Page 93 of His to Keep
“Mostly little animals. I can show you later.”
I sink deeper into the water. “I’d like that.”
“But first, let’s wash your hair.”
“Oh, you don’t have to?—”
“I want to,” he says before leaning down and silencing me with a kiss so intense I forget what we were talking about.
“W-want to what?” I ask, half dazed and desperate for more.
“Wash your hair.” He laughs under his breath as he grabs a bottle of shampoo. The very same shampoo I use. “Take your hair down for me?”
I move as if in a trance, tugging my hair tie out before sliding down and dunking my head into the water.
He pops the cap and squirts a dollop into his palms, rubbing them into a foamy lather, before massaging the suds into my scalp.
“This... is... divine,” I groan in delight, literally curling my toes as he works his talented fingers through my hair.
“Yeah?” He sounds smug, like he knows exactly how good it feels. “Glad you think so.”
“You don’t have to sound so cocky.”
“Is that how you think I sound?” he asks, running conditioner through the ends of my hair.
“Obviously.”
“You’re wrong.” He twists my hair into bun and clips it in place. “You’re mistaking pride for cockiness. I’m proud I can take care of you. That I can bring you pleasure.”
My heart beats wildly in my chest. “Who in the hell are you?” I ask, mildly bewildered. He’s not an asshole, a fuckboy, or any other mean things I’ve thought about him over the years. He’s kind, caring, and outrageously perceptive.
“I’m Ellis fucking Wilder, baby girl.”
“Oh my god.” I burst out laughing. “You’re so cheesy.”
“Don’t act like you don’t love it.” He grabs a bottle of body wash, the very same kind I use, and flips open the top. “Because we both know you do.”
“Yeah,” I say softly, almost as if I’m confessing something. “I really do.”
“Stand for me.” His words hit me like a command, and I rise from the water, his eyes roving over every inch of me.
I feel my cheeks heat, but I’m chalking it up to the warm water, and not the way he’s looking at me like I’m something precious.
“Are you going to wash me or just stare?” I sass, fighting off the urge to shiver as the air cools my damp skin.
“Honestly, I might just fucking stare.” He walks forward on his knees until his legs are flush with the front of the tub. “You’re...” he swallows roughly. “A fucking goddess.”
“Ellis.” My hand trembles as I reach for him, curling my fingers into his hair. “Please.”
“Please what?” he asks, his voice rough as he stares up at me reverently.
“Put your hands on me.” I tighten my grip on his hair and tug his face closer. “Put your mouth on me. Make me forget all about this day... about anything other than you.”
“Are you sure?” He licks his lips.
I swear, my knees go weak as I tug on his hair again, and he falls forward.
“Shit, Princess,” he rumbles, pitching forward over the edge of the tub. He manages to catch himself just short of falling in, but he’s close enough that I can feel his warm breath fan across my lower belly.
