Strong Enough (Tall, Dark, and Dangerous #1)(21)

“Cleaning you up. You smell like vomit. Stand still.”

My pulse trips up a notch, but I don’t argue. I’m too tired and too sick to care that much.

With a sigh, I gingerly raise my arms so as not to move too much as he tugs the soaked cotton over my head. I hear the wet slap of it hit the ceramic of the tub behind me. I keep my eyes closed as I lower my arms. Jasper’s movements are efficient yet surprisingly unobtrusive. I stand still, almost in a daze, as he tugs my yoga pants down my legs. I hold on to his shoulder as I step out of them, feeling better than I have since I left the tavern. The coolish shower was a good idea.

I smell a familiar scent seconds before big, warm hands materialize at my neck. Jasper rubs small, soothing soapy circles over my skin, working his way down over my collarbones and onto my chest. His fingers slip under my bra straps to rub my shoulders and upper arms, his palms grazing my breasts. I let my head fall back, losing myself to the sensation of being cared for like this, of being touched like this—so innocently, yet so erotically. It’s like I’m doing something I shouldn’t, enjoying something I shouldn’t, all under the guise of something purely functional.

Jasper’s movements slow even more as he works his hands back toward my center. I feel his thumbs dip into the cups of lace covering my breasts, coming dangerously close to nipples that are now tingling with awareness. In the quiet, I hear his breathing, heavy and steady. I listen to it, letting it lull me as he cleans my chest. Mesmerized, I follow his every stroke with anticipation of what he might touch next.

A tiny whimper escapes my lips when he moves away from my aching breasts to wash my ribs. I crack my lids just enough to see Jasper. His eyes are trained on my face, his lips parted slightly. His expression is still the blank mask that I’ve become accustomed to, but it’s his eyes that seem different. They’re sleepy and dark and even more intense than usual. The change, although slight, is potent enough to turn the cool water to steam.

I watch the whiskey-colored orbs follow his hands as they work their way over my ribs and down to my waist. I sway gently, back and forth, with each languorous circle he makes.

He reaches for the soap and rolls it between his fingers again before attacking my stomach. At the first touch of his palm to my navel, I gasp. It scorches my cool skin and sends a gush of heat into my core. The muscles between my legs throb painfully and I let my head fall back on my neck again.

The water sluices down my face and throat, pouring into my bra to tickle my prickly nipples. Jasper’s hands are tantalizing my skin with slippery caresses that draw ever closer to my core. With every pass of his hands on my belly, he dives a bit more under the elastic of my panties.

My breath is coming faster and faster, my concentration fully focused on his touch. The water coursing down my stomach trickles under the raised band to bathe my sex in cool liquid, a sharp contrast to the hot touch of his hands.

I sway again, unsteadily this time and I reach for Jasper. I grip his granite waist as I widen my stance to keep my balance, still absorbed by his sweet torture.

Jasper moves his sensual assault from my belly to my hips. He bends to stroke me in long ovals that trail down to the tops of my thighs. Then he moves both hands to my left leg, one broad palm splayed over the outside, one on the inside. As his slick hands move over my skin, one slips in and out between my legs, his wrist grazing me as it passes. I feel my muscles clench, every nerve and thought I have concentrated on the stimulation of his caress. Back and forth his hands glide around the top of my thigh, his right thumb slipping under the edge of my panties to tease my heated flesh as it passes.

I’m panting by the time Jasper moves to treat my other leg to the same kind of unnerving attention. My insides are already on fire and I’m so aroused that I moan at the first pass of his wide wrist against my sex.

Jasper resumes his rhythm, back and forth, slow and steady, rubbing between my legs with every gentle stroke. I reach for his thick biceps, a silent plea for him to keep doing what he’s doing, as I poise on the precipice of an unexpected orgasm. It’s the pinch of Jasper’s teeth at my left nipple, nibbling at it through the wet lace, that pushes me right over the edge.

I dig my fingernails into the smooth skin of his arms as I grind against his wrist. He presses up, increasing the friction of my soaked panties against my aching flesh and helping me to ride out the wave.

Heat spears through me almost violently and my breath comes in harsh bursts. Pleasure. So much pleasure!

After the first few seconds, my knees threaten to give out beneath me. Jasper wraps one arm around me, cupping his hand between my legs and stroking me until the very last spasm tightens and releases.

I’m limp and exhausted when Jasper scoops me up into his arms and steps out of the shower. He sets me on my feet and turns off the water before wrapping me in a towel. I can barely stand as he rubs my skin dry.

It’s when the euphoria of my climax completely abates that embarrassment slips in to take its place. I drop my face into my hands as Jasper dries my legs. “Oh God!”

When I’m dry except for my underwear, Jasper tugs my hands away and forces me to look at him. “Stop it,” he says in his no-nonsense way with his no-nonsense expression.

“Why did you do that?” I ask, my residual intoxication making me blunt.

“Because you needed it,” he replies, matter of fact.

“Oh God!” I moan louder, covering my face again.