Page 37 of Claim the Light
I kneel in front of the chair and take his hands. “We don’t know what Tyler’s power can do. But we survived it. We’re alive.”
As my hands close more tightly around his, I make him a promise. “I intend to keep us that way.”
CHAPTERFOURTEEN
Irise again, slipping my shirt up over my head and my jeans down over my hips, leaving me in my lacy bra and underpants. Between the steam and the warmth of the bathroom, any cold that threatened to seep into my bones is gone. And it makes no sense standing in a shower fully clothed.
I reach for Micah. “Now, let me get those clothes off you.”
His gaze flows down my figure and he takes a moment before he follows my instructions. Standing, he uses the handrail to balance so I can peel his wet clothes from his body.
I try to remain business-like, but damn, it’s not an easy task.
He’s sculpted all the way from his broad shoulders to his muscular stomach to his powerful thighs. I make a concerted effort to avoid staring at his pelvis, and when I glance up at his face, his expression indicates that he finds my efforts amusing.
I shake my head at him, bite my lip, and get on with it. Or I try to. Despite my best intentions, I find myself lingering as I direct the shower spray and run the cloth over his body.
What really sobers me is how cold his skin is. The tension in his muscles is worse where his body seems coldest—across his chest near the location of his heart and down his left arm. Even a little up that side of his neck.
Worry overcomes desire, and I focus entirely on making him warm, even increasing the temperature of the spray and making sure the water is on him at all times.
I know I’m succeeding when the tightness in his muscles starts to ease and his breathing evens out. When I run my hand across his chest, finally—finally—the cold is starting to fade. The pain lines in his face disappear and the tightness of his jaw relaxes.
The difference in him as he warms up is so distinct that I murmur, “Warmth.”
He makes a questioning sound in the back of his throat. “Hmm?”
“It’s like light,” I say, thinking it through. “It banishes the dark.”
I remember the way the ash on Micah’s cheeks washed away when my tears dripped onto them: myhottears.
Nothing is certain right now, but I file away the possibility that heat could also fight the numbing emptiness that Tyler’s power inflicts.
Heat and water. Either or both.
Micah’s voice is husky, the deep baritone bringing me back to the present. “Youbanish the dark.”
He’s standing on his own now, no longer leaning against the handrail. A very good sign.
Slowly reaching for me, he pulls me closer, taking me with him as he steps back toward the chair. When he lowers himself onto it, it’s with slow, deliberate movements, and it’s clear he isn’t sitting because he needs to. His hands linger on my hips as I remain standing in front of him. His arms are extended, but he doesn’t pull me onto the chair with him.
“Would you like to come here?” Despite the tug in his hands, the question in his voice sounds genuine and when he still doesn’t draw me onto his lap, I know the decision is entirely mine.
Without hesitation, I slide forward, slipping one leg to either side of his hips. The chair is low enough to the floor that my feet can touch the ground, but only with my toes pointed.
It brings my center to his and now there’s nothing more than a scrap of wet material—my underpants—between our two bodies.
I don’t try to hide my needy moan.
His hands rise from my hips and his fingers splay across my back.
“This isn’t how I pictured our first night together,” he says, his gaze on my lips. “You looking after me. Me barely able to remain standing.”
I arch my eyebrows at him and give a little shrug. “It’s not too different from how I imagined it. Steamy shower, lots of touching—”
I gasp as his lips connect with mine and all of the heat I’ve been stifling surges to the surface. My thighs clench, my core tightens, and it takes determination not to rock against him.
His lips burn a line from my mouth down the side of my neck, where he makes a husky promise against my skin. “I’m going to ask you what you want, Sophia. A lot. Over and over. I want you to tell me what you do and don’t like.”
