Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 106003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Is it wrong that I find the dark eyes watching me from behind damp tresses sexy? He lets me lead him back inside.
“I mean, we’re both wet now anyway,” I laugh, locking the door behind him. “So what’s with the shower? Do you have a secret waterfall in the caves that you prefer? I did hear there are hot springs nearby.”
Creep’s… trembling and hunches his shoulders even more than usual. “It’s loud. So loud. I hate that moment when it starts, and hits the tiles, and then it just doesn’t stop making noise.”
Oh… Oh.
Regret and guilt wash over me with such intensity they’re making my stomach ache. “Why… why didn’t you just say that? I’m so sorry, it didn’t even occur to me,” I mumble, rubbing his arm up and down. He smells of the rain now—a cool, earthy aroma, with just a hint of musk. “So you’re sensitive to noise, huh—”
"Because it's stupid, so I deserve this. Who's afraid of the fucking shower? I could have it. No one can tell me what to do," he mutters and, to my utter shock, slaps the side of his head.
I grab his wrist and touch the reddened spot on his cheekbone. “No! Don’t hurt yourself! I’m sorry!”
Goddamn it, now my voice is cracking, because I’m an emotional wreck. No wonder normal guys stay away from me. Unfortunately, I don’t have a tub I could fill up for us, so the shower is our only option, but it’s not like this place has crazy water pressure anyway.
“How about we put on a very weak stream, so it just drizzles out and doesn’t bang on the tiles?” I will be investigating much deeper into what’s going on with Creep, but I don’t want to overwhelm him with questions on day one.
I want to cuddle him so badly, but I’m not sure if that wouldn’t be too much for him right now, so I let him take his time instead of babbling on as usual.
“That… maybe. Can you turn it on yourself?” he whispers.
I nod, offering him a smile I hope is encouraging. “So it hits my skin instead of the tiles? Yes. And you can choose how hot you want it too. I don’t mind.”
His shoulders relax a little. “Your skin…” he repeats. “Naked?”
I meet his gaze, and instead of taking hold of him again, I step back, inviting him in with my eyes. “I have very nice skin, because I use lotion after every shower. Do you want to feel it?”
His breath becomes shallow, and when I take a step back, toward the bathroom, this time he follows. “In the shower? I have to shower to touch you?”
What kind of question is that? Isn’t that the bare minimum? But I already see this is a touchy subject, so I step right into the small space with tiles in a mixture of primary colors to go with the clown theme of the living room.
“You do. But don’t worry, I’ll be gentle,” I add, offering him a wide smile. After all, I’ve handled men way more difficult than he is.
I expect him to balk, bristle, tell me he doesn’t need that, but he just nods and scoots down to take off his shoes. I’ve noticed them before. Unlike the ones the other bikers wear, they have a thinner sole and no steel caps.
“Can I keep my clothes on?”
My mind stalls like something caught in the cogs with a loud screech.
Deep breath. He’s different. A bit weird, but if I want to peel away the layers and see what’s inside him, I need to act with caution. So I smile and pick on the hem of my T-shirt with two fingers. “I’ll remove mine if you remove yours.”
I can only imagine the war going on in his head as he puts the shoes away, because he’s watching my fingers as if his life depends on it, yet it still takes him forever to speak.
“Okay,” he says with a deep breath and first takes off his leather vest, then peels off the T-shirt underneath. It clings to his face like it doesn’t want to let go.
Oh was it worth the wait. He is solid muscle. Not in a bodybuilder way, but he’s so lean his abs are visible even in the low light. He doesn’t have much hair, and his skin is milky perfection over sharp lines with a few scars and a constellation of beauty spots. There’s something so strange about him, as though he’s not a man but a creature evolved through crawling in caves and disappearing in the shadows. And if that’s the case, I’m starting to understand why he doesn’t know how to take care of his hair or skin.
Now I’m dying to see what’s in his pants too, but he’s waiting, watching me as if he’s starving but doesn’t know how to eat. He trembles a little.