Chapter 20

Chapter

Twenty

GRACE

W hat I needed was Amorette. What I needed was to have met with her for our girl’s weekend where we would both be safe and sound at the rental by the beach. What I needed was…

A sigh escaped me as I turned to face him. “Do you have a real name?”

“Voodoo not real enough for you?” The barest hint of humor slid into his eyes and his voice. One corner of his mouth kicked upwards, an invitation to play.

“Sorry, not judging, just—curious.” I glanced at his hands. There were no rings. No tan line where a ring might have been. No jewelry of any kind—well correction, he had a silver chain that stretched under his shirt, but that was it.

“Nothing wrong with curiosity, Firecracker.”

Weariness washed through me. I felt scummy inside and out. “Were you serious about helping me with the shower?”

“Yes,” he said without hesitation or flirtation. “Are you comfortable with me doing that?”

Was I? “It’s a body,” I told him, with a wave down at myself. “Being nude has never bothered me.”

“Good to know. If you’re going to shower, let me grab you some water and a couple of pain relievers. Best to get them into your system. Go ahead and have a seat,” he waved me toward the closed toilet.

The idea of getting the skin crawling sensation off of me was worth some discomfort. The seat was cold and sent a jolt through my system. At least it was distracting from the pain between my shoulder blades even if it couldn’t touch the worry or the pain in my heart.

Voodoo didn’t keep me waiting. He walked back into the bathroom with some clothes in one hand, a water bottle, and a pill bottle. He set them all on the counter next to the sink before he handed me a protein bar. “Eat that, drink the water, then take the meds.”

It was flavorless, tasteless, and had the consistency of cardboard. Arguing about it wasn’t really worth it. Methodically, I chewed each bite and then washed it down with the water. While I worked my way through it, Voodoo turned on the shower.

“How hot do you like it?”

“Scalding,” I admitted. “But that’s not good for my hair and I’m assuming the wound on my back.” The doctor had done his best to minimize scarring. He wasn’t a plastic surgeon though. Now, Voodoo had to reseal it. Was I going to have a scar there?

Maybe I could get a tattoo over it. I could hide it, disguise it—something. What I couldn’t paper over was my sister. If she were here right now, she would probably give me hell for being melodramatic.

I would so love to hear her teasing me right now. Just anything…

“Firecracker?” Voodoo snared my attention with the quiet emphasis on my nickname. I blinked to look up at him. He’d stripped off his shirt and had the belt on his pants was open. There was a gun visible on his hip and a knife in a sheath as well.

The broadness of his shoulders seemed to increase without his clothes. The light brown of his skin extended to his chest and across his abdomen. It was a deep, unbroken tan. Or maybe it was his skin tone.

At six foot plus, he seemed to fill the whole bathroom. Somehow his shirt had blunted his attractiveness, fuck knew how, because he was beautiful, cut, and toned everywhere. Well, there were some scars and a tattoo but I forced my eyes upward. Ogling him was hardly polite. The faint smile on his lips deepened.

“You can look if it helps,” he said, then motioned to my shirt. “Can you get out of that?”

“Yes, sorry.” I rose slowly, my legs weren’t the steadiest. The whole world seemed to be weighing on me. I tugged the shirt off slowly, pulling my arms in and then trying to tug it up and over without stretching my arms.

Voodoo didn’t say anything as I tugged it over my head. I was panting a little when I was free of it. He removed his gun and set it up on a high shelf next to the shower right on the extra towels stored up there.

His knife was gone, but I didn’t see where it went. His jeans went next and the cut muscle he had on his chest extended down his thighs. Apparently, he went commando too or he’d taken his briefs with the jeans. His dick was right there and impressive, considering he wasn’t hard at the moment.

I tried to reach behind me for the bra clip and winced. “Okay, maybe I need a little help with this.”

Twirling his finger, he indicated I should turn. Facing the mirror, I couldn’t miss the way he studied me as he undid the bra. Then he hooked his fingers into the sides of my panties and tugged them down where he waited until I stepped out of them.

The heat rolling off him chased away the chill. Voodoo rose, panties in hand and he set them on the shirt I’d taken off. I dropped my bra on it while meeting his gaze in the mirror. He was over a full head taller than me. I was hardly blocking my own view of him.

“Still with me?” His voice might have held some humor, but his nearly black eyes were intense and sober.

“Yes,” I said, then turned to look up at him. There was something unnerving about staring at him in a mirror. “Are you married?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Not wearing a ring, Firecracker.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. Lots of married guys don’t bother. I know more than a few married women who don’t either.”

“Ah,” he said, then gave me a gentle nudge toward the shower. “You’re starting to shiver.”

I was? I glanced at my hand when I braced it against the tile wall before I stepped over the edge of the tub and into the shower. The bottom of the tub was toasty where the warm water had heated it up and the water splashing against me was so damn welcome.

Showering before had helped. That shower felt like a million years ago. And all I wanted to do was scrub away any reminders of the past few days. Turning my face into the water, I let it stream over me and soak down my hair.

If only I could wash away the memories with the same ease. The throb between my shoulders beat away sullenly like an angry bruise.

I listed a little, leaning to the side as the water kept beating on my face. Light hands rested on my hips and kept me upright. The contact reminded me that there was a naked man in the shower with me and I’d asked him for help.

Stepping back, I brushed against him but he didn’t retreat. “I’m not married,” he said, answering the earlier question. “Not dating currently. Haven’t in about seven or eight months. Last woman I went out with was a waitress at a country club. We saw each other for about two weeks, had a good time and then I had to move on.”

Huh. I glanced around the shower and then reached for the pumps of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash fixed to the wall. I kind of hated when hotels did that, but I also understood the whys behind it.

“Did you miss her?” When I raised my hands to my hair, however, I couldn’t quite reach my hair. The intensity of the pain between my shoulders had me dropping my arms immediately. Frustration welled up and tears burned in my eyes.

I rinsed off my hands and then scrubbed them against my face. Even raising my hands that high made that wound throb. I hated this. I hated every damn minute of it.

“Not so much,” he answered in an easy tone as he slid his hands into my hair. The unexpected contact jolted me. Then he worked his fingers against my scalp. “To be fair, I wasn’t much more than a distraction for her too. Sex can be calisthenic. The release of endorphins helps with stress and it can definitely relax a person.”

A weak laugh escaped me. “Not all sex.”

“No,” he said, agreeably. “Usually, only the sex where you enjoy pleasing your partner and they enjoy pleasing you. When it’s just about getting your rocks off—well, I can do that just as well with my hand as a pretty girl’s cunt.”

God I appreciated the bluntness. It helped to chase away the tears. With the lightest of touches to my shoulders, he turned me to face him.

“Keep your eyes closed, Firecracker, we need to rinse your hair.” I wanted to protest not being able to see him but I never lost contact with him. When he nudged me backwards and into the spray, I put a hand on his chest and took a deep breath in case the water against my bandage hurt.

He finger combed through my mass of hair as he rinsed it. The contact with him helped, particularly when my nipples went tight as tingles spread out from where his fingers glided over my scalp.

“There we go.” He guided me forward and I used a hand to wipe the excess water away from my face. Voodoo watched me with hooded eyes as he leaned toward me, his arms extended as he pumped out the conditioner.

Then he set those magical hands in my hair again, combing the conditioner through it and alternating with massaging my scalp and my neck. Every touch had weight to it, but not too much.

Drinking in the contact, I let my eyes fall closed.

“Stay with me,” he murmured.

“Not going anywhere.” That was a promise. “At least not yet.” I would have to eventually. “What you’re doing feels really good.”

“I’m glad,” he said, his voice low and almost melodic. “I can make you feel even better if you want.”

That offer had me opening my eyes once more. He ran his tongue over his lower lip and I swore my insides clenched. It was both intimate and open.

“To be perfectly clear,” I answered in a rough voice. “We’re discussing sex still, right?”

“Yes,” he answered, his smile growing.

It was the absolute sobriety in his eyes though that held me captive. He wasn’t getting himself off by staring at my body. In fact, we were close enough to be in contact everywhere but I only had one hand on his chest and he had his hands in my hair.

“We are definitely discussing sex. I can eat you out, let you fuck my fingers if that will get you off or I can sit down and keep you on my lap while I fuck up into you. We have a few options we can explore.”

Heat scored through me at the offer. It was decadent, direct, and desired. Voodoo was a good looking guy. He wasn’t model perfect or movie star styled. If anything, he was grounded and so very real. From his strong jaw, to his dark hair and eyes, and light brown skin—he was everything I wasn’t.

The dick that had been impressive before thumped against his belly now. It was red and engorged.

“The offer is there,” he continued as he nudged me back toward the water still keeping his contact light. “You can take it or not. There is no demand.”

“You’re not interested?” The question escaped me before I could quite think through the implications of it. His chest was flush to mine this time as he rinsed my hair. I couldn’t see him, but I could feel him everywhere.

“Firecracker, if I wasn’t interested and if I hadn’t seen similar interest in your eyes, I wouldn’t have offered.”

Another shiver went through me. My nipples tightened even more painfully. The brush against his skin was electric, but it was the light dusting of hair that tickled and felt so good.

“All of that said, I know where you were and what likely happened. So this is not on me demanding anything from you. When we fuck, Firecracker, it will only be when it is one hundred percent mutual.”

Another shudder went through me. This time when he nudged me forward, he did so with his hand palming my ass. The heat and ease in the contact, crumbled whatever feeble resistance I’d been considering.

“I really want to fuck you,” I admitted, lifting my gaze to his. “I want to feel you fuck me—I want to wipe away everything else and never think about it again.”

“Then use me, Firecracker,” he murmured as he tilted his head downward. I pushed up on my toes. Before our mouths connected, he lifted me like I weighed nothing, his arm an iron band around my waist.

I barely had time to process the feeling of grinding against him then his mouth was on mine. The world just kind of slowed as he teased my lips apart. At the first sign of them parting, he thrust his tongue against mine. It was equal parts gentle coaxing and wild demand.

The weight of his cock pressing against my stomach had me lifting my thighs to his hips. Despite how tightly we were both hanging on, he didn’t shift our positions or break off the kiss.

The way he teased my tongue, then sucked at it to pull it toward his mouth, made everything inside of me go hot and soft. I forgot how to breathe without him, lifting his head in between sensuous explorations. Each time our lips collided, the kiss changed.

His beard was so soft where it teased against my face. I wanted to thrust my hands into his hair. I wanted to dig my nails into his shoulders. The desire to touch him competed with the need to avoid more pain.

“Tell me,” he said, his lips mere millimeters from mine. “How do you want me?”

My brain short-circuited briefly. How did I want him? Licking the taste of him off my lips, I forced my eyes open. This near, there was no hiding our expressions. Heat licked through his dark eyes now. A kind of black fire that seemed to be held in check by the man currently cradling me to his chest.

What would it be like if he cracked and unleashed all of that heat? My pussy clenched so hard, I shuddered. The ripples of desire eddied out from my core.

“I want to feel you inside of me… everywhere. I want to feel hot pleasure, I want to come so hard I forget my back hurts. Then I want to do it again.” I wanted to blast through every memory of the past few days and overwrite them until the only hands I imagined on me belonged to him.

His eyebrows raised and his lips lifted into a deeper smile. “Firecracker, have I mentioned how much I like your style?”