Kevin was probably right, but I still wasn’t willing to admit it.
In the room next to that bedroom at the end of the tiny house was a laundry room, but there were no clothes in there either. Just a few supplies and a small combination washer/ dryer. Across the hall, on the kitchen side of the house, was a smaller bedroom with two twin beds, and in between that room and the kitchen, across from the master bedroom was a bathroom. I turned on the light (still feeling awe at having electricity) and then felt my eyes grow wide. “Oh, my God. We could take a real shower,” I said, feeling excited at the prospect.
“Shit.”
I smiled wide and stepped all the way inside, eager to stand under a stream of steaming hot water while scrubbing sweet-smelling shampoo into my hair. I pulled off my gloves, threw them to the floor, pulled off the hat I was wearing, and then slid the scrunchie off my hair before I saw Kevin taking his coat off. I wondered why the hell this stupid place only had one bathroom, but it was a small home, nothing overly ostentatious or pretentious like some of the mountain summer homes around here—like the wrought iron gate estate. I was eager, but I could wait if I needed to. I asked, “Did you want to go first?” He shrugged. “We should go fast…just in case someone is around.”
He grinned. “I’m tellin’ ya, Nina, no one’s here right now. No one’s gonna be here for a while. We got the place to ourselves.” I wasn’t so sure, and he saw it in my eyes once more. “Fine. Why don’t we shower together so it’s fast?”
After all the wicked thoughts I’d had about this man over the past month, why it didn’t feel sexual to me at first I still don’t understand. Maybe I was too eager to clean all the grime off myself…or maybe I was too preoccupied with my fear of being caught in a place where I didn’t belong. But I wasn’t thinking of the consequences of being naked around him…at first.
I began eagerly undressing until the gravity of what I was doing hit me. Then it became a tentative task, but I was already committed to it, and to stop now would seem more awkward than continuing. Still, I moved slowly, feeling self-conscious, because I hadn’t been seen naked by anyone in months, maybe years. I hadn’t even been fully unclothed since we’d come up here—bathing with a small pan of water and a cloth usually taking off one piece of clothing, running the wet cloth over my skin, then putting that article of clothing back on before removing the next. It was better than nothing, but a real shower—that was what had me moving forward with this fool’s task.
I continued by removing the heavy coat, and even though it was still cool in the house, I could feel the warm air circulating, could smell the burned dust odor that hangs in the air with the season’s first furnace blast. This one had been long overdue, and the smell was heavier than it normally would be…lending credence to Kevin’s theory that no one was here.
It was the first time in weeks that I’d taken off the coat and felt comfortable without standing right next to a fire or shivering under a pile of blankets, so my fingers gripped the bottom of the t-shirt to pull it over my head. I caught Kevin out of the corner of my eye. He was sitting on the toilet seat, one leg resting on the other while he unlaced his second black boot. I wondered if maybe he was feeling self-conscious too. But he had the right idea—the feet were less threatening—and so I leaned over to unlace my boots as well and let go of the bottom of my shirt. It would stay on for now.
He stood up from the toilet. “It’s easier if you’re sitting down.” How gentlemanly. I thought maybe he was trying to avoid the awkwardness of the moment. I took him up on his offer and sat down to pull the boots off my feet.
Ah. It was going to be nice to wash in between my toes. The only time I’d taken my shoes off had been to crawl into bed, but I didn’t think the others even did that much. I pulled off the double layer of socks and then stood.
I finally allowed myself to glance at Kevin, but I couldn’t bring myself to make eye contact. He’d unbuttoned his flannel shirt and was pulling it off, but he still had a white t-shirt underneath. My thoughts were not good. This was the man I’d always wanted to gaze upon lovingly, and after the past few weeks, my emotions had gone through the gamut when it came to him. Very quickly, he’d driven me to anger, then neutrality, then respect, then iffy friendship—friends here and now but what about once we left this place? I’d grown to accept him as a partner but wondered if it was because we’d been forced to work together. Once we left here, what would our relationship be like? It hadn’t taken us long to move into friendship, but my feelings had taken a step further, and I wondered if it was because I’d loved him, then hated him. Maybe there was a reason why it’s said that there’s a thin line between love and hate—because when you feel betrayed or unloved or rejected by someone you care intensely about, that passion behind the emotion is still there…only it’s transferred to the opposing emotion.
No matter my feelings for him now, I knew my gaze upon his body would be inappropriate. I could feel that in my bones. So I had to force myself to stop looking…no matter how desperate I felt.
I turned around to remove the rest of my clothes. Part of it was so that he wouldn’t have to face the same temptations I was. As noble a thought as that was, I hadn’t stopped to think that there was a mirror almost in front of me and he could likely see everything reflected in it if he wanted to. I unbuttoned the jeans and pulled them down, followed by the t-shirt that had been clinging to my frame. And, at that point, I wondered why the hell we hadn’t started the water running first. I noticed, though, that the air was warmer now, and it felt nice to be naked.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and immediately my hypercritical inner voice began picking myself apart. First, though, I noticed how much weight I’d lost. My waist was as thin as it had been back in my youth, making my breasts look unusually large—and age had made them not as perky as they’d been long ago. My hips too were bigger than they’d been when I was a teen, and I wondered if he even noticed. More than that, though, I saw what the weeks here had done—my few gray hairs that I’d covered up with hair coloring were visible now just like how a few of Kevin’s beard hairs were gray. His beard was filling out now and it looked soft…touchable. And I was thinking unthinkable thoughts again.
“I haven’t seen that in a while.” Oh. The sound of his voice—it was different. Husky, throaty.
Calling to me.
But I ignored that, remembering what I looked like without clothes. I didn’t have to look in that goddamned mirror again to know I wasn’t a beauty queen. I could see the toll my children had taken on me, the way time had ravaged my body. I was no fool. Still, I felt a blush heat my cheeks as I imagined what he must be thinking. “Uh, yeah. Eighties bush.” Over the past few years, I hadn’t been big on trimming, but what little effort I had put into maintaining my feminine hair had gone out the window the past several weeks. No razor, no running water, no need to attract a mate—no shaving.
I felt the urge to cover myself with my arms, but it wouldn’t have made a difference. He’d already seen me, all of me.
“No, not that.” I turned my head to the side but I just couldn’t make myself look at him. I could see him in my peripheral vision, could tell that all his clothes were off as well, but I couldn’t look.
“Then what?” In my head, I could see the horrors of long-dead stretch marks and the effects of gravity on my breasts.
“A woman’s body is a thing of beauty.”
Did I see him move closer to me? “Not mine.”
“Especially yours.”
A chill rippled through my body, making my nipples even harder than they already were. That was followed up with an internal shiver that I thought was going to give away what was going on in my mind. But I turned my head, unable to pretend not to notice anymore that something between us had changed. Kevin Savage might have barely remembered me from our youth, but maybe the attraction he’d once felt for me couldn’t be denied. Before I forced my eyes up to meet his, I could feel the heat of his body agai
nst my arm, and it merely underscored the coolness of my skin.
Kevin’s eyes were nearly black, causing my breath to grow shallow. All thought disappeared from my head and I felt animalistic need make my gut clench as my veins responded to the desire radiating from his eyes. I wanted him.
I needed him.
I sucked another quick breath into my lungs as his lips pressed down hard on mine and I wrapped my arms around his body. Now we were both moving on pure instinct, and I’d never felt more like an animal in my life than I did at that moment.
What hit me first (if thought was even involved at that point) was that his passion was consuming. He too must have felt the same way I did, only he’d been better at hiding it than I.
The tables were turned, it seemed.
I was almost painfully aware of every detail—of how his chest hair felt soft against my rigid nipples, and yet it stimulated them, making me desire his touch on every inch of my body, of the lingering scent of burning dust in the air, of the taste of his mouth on mine, making me feel like a starving woman.
Of his cock pressing into me.
And I would deny him no longer.
We seemed to move without thought and yet we seemed to understand by instinct what the other needed. He lifted me against the wall enough to enter and then slammed into me, taking my breath away.
A visceral moan erupted from my lips against his salty neck. Holy God. It had been so long since a man had been inside me, I’d almost forgotten what it felt like.
It felt good, so amazing, and I’d had no idea how much I’d missed it until now, now when I was getting the first taste I’d had of a man in ages. I was gasping with each thrust, nowhere near orgasm, but feeling pleasure nonetheless. Every stroke sent new sensations through my body, making me enjoy feelings I hadn’t experienced in years.
I could do this forever.
It made me breathless, this rough love, and my response was physical. I could feel my nails digging into his back, and I couldn’t think straight enough to figure out how to let go…
I didn’t want to let go.
Chapter Forty-five
“Adrenalize” – In This Moment
IT WAS OVER faster than it should have been.
And just when it was getting good.
I knew why, though. If Kevin had been feeling even half what I had been—not just at this moment but during all the days leading up to this explosive point in time—it was all he could do to hold out for as long as he had.
And I wasn’t going to make him feel bad about it.
We stood in each other’s arms, spent, for several minutes. He was still inside me, and I realized in the aftermath that we hadn’t used a condom. Nothing sane or rational or thoughtful had entered my mind before, so I wasn’t surprised I hadn’t even thought about it…not to mention I hadn’t had to worry about birth control in years.
Maybe I didn’t now, either. Over the past year, my periods had been coming more and more sporadically, and I knew I was premenopausal, so my hope was that pregnancy worries were a thing of the past.
Not that I could do anything about it now.
He lifted his forehead off my shoulder and took his hands off my ass, sliding them up my back and sending shivers up my spine. Yeah, I was still horny as hell, but the moment had passed and I was going to be happy with what I got. My nipples hardened again, but I planned to ignore them. No way was I going to whine about it.
But I should have known…Kevin was surprising me at every opportunity, and his sensitivity was what I was beginning to appreciate the most. His lips were warm and damp as he trailed them up my neck to my ear.
He wasn’t helping the state I was in.
“You weren’t even close, were you?”
I hoped the disappointment wouldn’t be evident in my voice. “No. Felt good, though.” That was true. Even though my body had seen it all the way through, it was something I’d been needing and craving for probably longer than I’d wanted to admit. I might need release later, but I was okay for now. I didn’t want him feeling bad, so I said, “How about that shower?”
I pulled my head back and kissed him on the cheek, just above where his beard was growing out. His eyes—they could have melted me. There were so many unspoken words in them, so many emotions, and I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. I wanted to kiss him on the mouth then but restrained myself. I didn’t need to work myself into another frenzy and I also didn’t want to read more into that expression than I already had. I wondered if maybe I was projecting my feelings onto him. It was too confusing, too raw, and I didn’t trust myself to know for certain.
How I extricated myself from his hold, I wouldn’t know, but I did, and I turned on the water in the tub, running my hand under the stream to gauge when it had grown warm enough.
Kevin sat on the toilet, holding his head in his hand. I assumed it was some strange emotional response until he said, “I’m wiped out. I need a minute or two.” Then, after a few more seconds, he added, “I’ll join you in a little bit.”
The water was perfect and I stepped into the tub, closing the curtain behind me.
Oh, God. I had never felt as good as I did at right that second. The warm beads of liquid spraying my back, running down my body, warming me more than I had been in weeks, the feeling of pure clean as the water washed away everything—it was ecstasy.
Shampoo first. I’d bathed my body several times since getting stranded up here in the mountains, but I hadn’t washed my hair since before leaving Winchester. I lifted the lid and poured a glob of shampoo into the palm of my hand. It was clear and thick and bubbly—sweet-smelling too, but I had no idea what real smell it was trying to imitate.
It was an amazing experience. It felt invigorating, massaging my scalp with the luxurious soap for my hair, and I immersed myself in the whole experience as though I’d never had a shower before, enjoying the feel of the spray, the smells, the warmth enveloping me, and I opened my mouth, letting the shower rain on my tongue before I spat the water back out. I continued rubbing my scalp and must have let out a sound of pleasure because I heard Kevin on the other side of the shower curtain. “That good?” He sounded sleepy.
“Oh, you have no idea.” I started rinsing out the shampoo, running my hand along the locks of hair. “I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed a shower this much.”
“I can’t wait.”
Then I felt greedy, wanting to hog all the water myself, but I said, “You can come in if you want.”
“I will in a minute. I need a little bit.”
In the meantime, I planned to enjoy every last second. I picked up the conditioner and worked it through my locks, running my fingers through the strands to work it in. I was beginning to doubt another shower had ever felt this good, and while I let the conditioner sink in to make those strands feel soft and smooth, just like I used to do at home, I picked up the bar of yellow soap.
My nose was overloaded with the scents of the shower, something I didn’t think about twice in my old life as a civilized human being. I noticed first that the water streaming from the showerhead didn’t smell like chlorine, something the water at home had often reeked of. The water here smelled fresh, if nothing else, and even the warmth seemed to have an aroma. That, I knew, was likely the product of my overzealous imagination and overloaded senses. But all the scents from the shower items were making me feel happy and at home, if only for a few brief moments, and I almost forgot I was stranded in the wilderness, away from the familiar, from people I loved, and from comforts that I’d taken for granted all my life.
I twirled that bar of soap in between my hands, creating a foamy lather that I then used on my skin. I cleaned every surface and crevice on my body, except for my face, because I’d always been under the impression that regular soap was bad for facial skin. Whatever the case, the wrong product would make my cheeks feel tight and dry, and I wasn’t willing to try. That didn’t mean I didn’t want to exfoliate and wash it, though, but it would have
to wait.
In the meantime, though, I spied a razor and took my sweet time shaving all that hair off my legs from my ankles to just past my knees. The hair had grown soft and almost downy and it wasn’t as thick as other women’s (I wasn’t sure if that was because of my age or not), but it wasn’t attractive.
After I finished and while I was rinsing the conditioner out of my hair, I said, “Hey, Kevin, do you see any washcloths out there?”
I heard him mumble something and then I heard him opening drawers and cabinet doors. After a minute, he pulled aside the shower curtain and handed a folded washcloth to me. “We forgot towels too. Mind if I get in?”
“No. Go ahead.”
“I found ‘em, though.”
I smiled and thanked him for the washcloth and ran it under the water to get it wet. I then used it on my face, running it along the entire surface.
Then I declared myself squeaky clean.
I smiled. “I feel brand new.” It took everything I had to not look him over from head to toe, because inside I knew I was still completely aroused and barely satisfied. I held out the washcloth. “Did you want to use this?”
His eyes were dark and I felt the smile slide off my face. The look coming from him could liquefy my insides…and it did. I couldn’t move. He moved his body close to mine so that he stood right in front of me. He wasn’t concerned about getting under the water. He was focused on me. “Maybe later.” He took the washcloth from my hand, draped it over the soap holder, and then took my face in his hands. He brought his lips to mine and touched them softly, gently, and so sweetly. The water dripped off my head and down my face, raining on our lips. His kisses were sensual and slow, not what I would have expected, but that was probably because earlier, we’d been animals—base, driven by need and instinct. Now, even though I was aroused and needy, I was able to move slowly and go at his pace, and it helped that he was leading the way.
Savage Page 24