Chapter 16 - Riggs

CHAPTER 16 - RIGGS

I stand in the middle of the bedroom, just staring at the open bathroom door as the shower turns on. A minute passes and the pattern of splashing water changes, so she's not bothering to wait and see what I do.

I could have a long internal debate with myself right now about how getting involved with Clover in this way is a very bad idea, but then I'd just talk myself out of it. And I don't wanna talk myself out of it.

So I follow.

But I stop at the entrance and watch her for a moment. Most of the bathroom is marble—the floor, but also the walls and countertops—but the shower is encased in glass all the way up to the ceiling, trapping the hot steam inside. It swirls up and around the tall narrow space, partly obscuring her naked body.

She's standing under the water, not washing, but enjoying it with her face tipped up. If she notices me—or cares that I'm here one way or the other—she doesn't let on. There is no second invitation, she's made her offer and the rest is up to me.

There are plenty of reasons—very valid reasons—why I should turn around and ignore her. But I've made a habit of making bad decisions so why stop now?

A moment later I'm naked and pulling the shower door open. Clover has her back to me and her body goes still as I step inside and pull the door closed. She doesn't say anything as I study her from the back. She's got curvy hips and a nice round ass.

Neither of us says anything as I take a few steps closer and then gather up her long blonde hair in one hand, draping it over her shoulder, while the other hand pumps some soap from a dispenser into my palm.

I rub my hands together, making suds, then start massaging her shoulders.

Immediately, she relaxes. "That feels good."

I don't say anything. Just let my hands slip down her arms, getting her all soapy. Then I start washing her back, letting the bubbles froth up. She shivers a little, even though the shower is dense with steam now and there's no way she could be cold.

If she's not gonna say anything, then I'm just gonna keep going. I take my soapy hands to her hips, then bend down so I've got a front-row seat for that curvy ass of hers. My hands slide over her hips and down her thighs, pressing my fingertips into her muscles.

As I'm doing this, she slowly turns so I'm eye-level with her stomach. When I glance up, she's blushing. Or maybe it's just the steam, but either way, her flushed cheeks make her look innocent and fresh.

She's got her arms up now, crisscrossed over her breasts, and she's looking down at me with a flat line of a mouth and very serious eyes. I bet all the reasons why this is a bad idea are flooding her mind right now too.

"I trust you," I say.

Which makes her draw in a breath.

Then I stand up so I'm looking down at her now. My hands take hers by the wrists and I push them away so I can see what she's hiding. I stare a little, noting how round and firm her breasts are, and when she doesn't protest, I figure it's game on from here.

I get some more soap in my hands, then cup her breasts and slide my fingertips under and around them as she watches me caress her nipples and make them rise up into tight peaks.

"You're not gonna say anything back?" I ask.

She bites her lip, then gives a one-shoulder shrug. "What's there to say?"

"Oh, we've got millions of things to say, I'm sure."

"Why ruin it though?"

My mouth lifts up into a lopsided smile. "It wouldn't ruin anything. But it's fine with me if you don't wanna talk. We've got nowhere else to be, so whatever we have to say to each other, it can wait."

"It's just… sex, Riggs."

I bring my hands up to her neck, pushing her hair off her shoulders. "Is it?"

She nods her head. "It's not gonna mean anything."

I cup her face in my hands now. "Won't it?"

"No. It won't."

Then I lean down and kiss her. The first thing I notice is how wet her lips are. The second thing is that she's not opening her mouth for me.

Not yet.

I slip one hand around to the back of her neck, gripping it and drawing her closer so I can kiss her harder. I open my mouth and start nipping her lip with my teeth. She responds to this with a gasp, but it gets the job done because a moment later, our tongues are touching. I walk her backwards until she bumps into the marble wall.

We're kissing each other now. My hands are going wild feeling all up and down her body, while hers tentatively slide down to my waist.

I take one of her hands and push it down further until her fingertips are probing my rapidly growing cock. For a moment she hesitates, and I figure she'll pull back and refuse to follow my lead. But the moment passes and her hand opens, then closes again around my shaft.

I grit my teeth as the pleasure of having a woman touch me again stirs up feelings inside me. Mostly feelings of being cheated. Of losing all those years of my youth working underground inside an endless, dark tunnel.

But it's like Clover can tell I'm dwelling on things that are not her, because she begins to kiss me back with more intention, making a fist around my dick as she pumps it up and down. This pushes all the things I've lost aside and forces me to concentrate on the present.

I study her face as my hand slips between her legs, watching with equal parts fascination and lust as she closes her eyes and lets her head fall backwards and to the side, clearly enjoying it.

"I lied," I say.

She shakes her head a little, but doesn't open her eyes because I haven't stopped playing with her.

"I lied about you."

Her words come out as a whine. "I thought the talking was for later?"

"It is. But I just need to set the record straight. You're not a four, Clover. You're so out of my league, it's not even funny."

Now she does open her eyes. Then she narrows them down. And for a moment, I think… Fuck, why couldn't I just shut up already? I've ruined it. But then I realize she's not looking at me with suspicion, it's exasperation. "Fine," she huffs.

"Fine what?"

"You're a nine point seven five, OK? Collin Creed wishes he was you."

I chuckle a little as my fingers find her little sweet spot between her legs. And just before she gasps with ecstasy, I say, "And you're a ten. Hell, who am I kidding? Ten point two five." Her expression changes and she smiles, her eyes wide open now. "Standing next to you, Clover, Hattie Miller comes off as a burly, towering lumberjack."

Clover laughs out loud at this comparison, and while she's doing that I reach around, grab her under her ass, and lift her, pressing our bodies together as I hold her against the marble wall. Immediately, her arms come up and wrap around my neck. Her cheeks are bright pink now—either from the steam or the joke—and her eyes are shining and happy.

I'm happy too. Maybe for the first time in years, actually. But as we stare at each other, reality is rushing at us from all sides and our smiles fall in the same moment.

It's a natural segue into a real discussion. But it's not the time or place for a real discussion so I reach down between her legs, grab my dick, and push it inside her.

Then I watch her face as all thoughts of talking are set aside for later and once again, her eyes close and her head tips back.

I start slow. Easing in and out of her with deliberate care. Allowing us both to savor all the new, emerging feelings as the minutes pass. But eventually, we're worked up to the point where the time for savoring is over now too, and I go faster, pressing into her with more intention and force, until finally, she reaches the top of that hill and falls over it with a moan as her fingernails dig into my shoulders.

The look on her face is enough to send me over the edge too, and the next thing I know I've got my face buried in her neck and I'm biting the muscle just below her ear. It's not a real bite —I don't draw blood or anything—but it's hard, and serious, and makes her back stiffen as I explode inside her.

We stand there for a few moments, enjoying the residual sparks of the climax, and then she lets out a long breath and drops her head onto my shoulder.

"You can bite me back if you want."

She just chuckles.

"Sorry. I really didn't mean to bite you, it's just… something I like to do."

Her arms are still around my neck, but she holds me tighter after I say this. "I hope it leaves a hickey."

"A hickey." I almost snort as I lower Clover down and her feet find the floor. She looks up at me and for the first time I think I see the real her. An easy, relaxed version of the tense, scared woman I kidnapped and locked in a basement several days ago.

There's a thick clump of wet hair plastered to her cheek and instinctively, I slide it off her face so I can see her better. "Hi."

She smiles. "Hello."

"Would you like me to wash your hair?"

"Only if I can wash you back."

"Deal."

I turn and take her with me, pushing her back under the hot water. Then I pump out some shampoo from a container and start working it into her hair. She gets some soap and starts making suds on my chest. We don't say anything as we wash each other. We just take our time—like we've got millions of years ahead of us instead of one day—and when we're done, we wrap up in towels and go back into the bedroom.

I towel myself off as Clover finger-combs her hair in a mirror over the dresser, and then I walk up behind her—dry now, but still naked—and reach around to take her towel away. Our eyes lock in the mirror for a few moments. And even when I avert my gaze so I can towel her off too, she continues to watch me.

"You're a very nice lover," she says.

"Surprised?"

"Not really."

"That's a lie."

"No. There is a very kind person inside of you."

"Deep inside, you mean?"

"Not that deep."

"I kidnapped you. I made all those threats. I've killed people."

I know she knows this. Hell, I admitted it. But saying it so casually like this is something I've never done before. I don't want to be a killer. I'd prefer to deny it, at least to myself. But at this point in my life, it's just a fact.

Clover shrugs up one shoulder. "And yet here you are. Saving my life."

It's a consolation prize. We both know this. "I really did mean what I said."

"Which part?"

"You're really out of my league."

Her eyes go all squinty. "Don't say that."

"Why? It's the truth."

"Because if you truly believe this, Riggs, you won't come back for me."

"Do you want me to come back for you?"

She pouts her lips a little, taking time to think. Which I appreciate, because the honest answer here is no. She doesn't want me to come back for her. Life for us, if I do manage to get away again, would be hell. Clover has to know this.

Just as she opens her mouth to respond, I put up a hand, stopping her. Then I answer for her with the same words I was just thinking in my head. "You don't, Clover. If I came back for you, we'd be on the run. And Hattie Miller would be our hunter. We'd never have a moment's peace."

"I know," she says. "That's why I didn't answer right away. In another life, I'd date you, Riggs. But this is the only life I have and I can't see a future where that ever happens."

"Because there isn't one."

"Well." She blows out a breath. "If this day is the only one we get, let's enjoy it."