Page 43 of Inked Desires

He sighs, resigned. I’ve won this round, and he knows it. I pull his shirt over his head without protest.

“What are you gonna do now?” he asks, a bit wary.

“Push you into the shower,” I answer simply.

He helps by removing his pants, and I guide him under the hot water. He closes his eyes and lets the water wash over his face, soothing his expression.

“Feeling better?” I ask softly.

“Mhmm,” he replies with a sigh.

I grab the shampoo bottle, waiting until his hair is fully wet. Then gently, I pull him against me and start washing. My fingers glide over his scalp, applying just the right pressure. A sigh of relief escapes his lips, and a strange satisfaction fills me. Sometimes, life can be that simple.

“Were you a hairdresser before?” he jokes.

“Why do you ask?” I laugh softly.

He leans against my chest, seeking support I give willingly.

“Because you’re really good at this,” he murmurs dreamily.

“Maybe I’ve just had a lot of men under this shower,” I reply with a smile.

“Asshole,” he grumbles, making me burst out laughing.

I’m almost scared by the sound.

“I never claimed to be anything else,” I say.

“Your laugh is beautiful,” he whispers so softly I almost miss it.

For his confession, I press a quick kiss to his neck.

“You’re gorgeous, little bunny.”

I give him a playful smack on the ass and hand him the shower gel. I take care of the rest of my body. Andrew’s already out of the shower, drying off. Soon after, I follow.

The yellow marks on his back are healing well.

I find him in the bedroom, half-dressed on the bed, staring out the window.

“What are you thinking about?” I ask.

I hold back a smile seeing him run his fingers over his forehead. That habit, he never seems to shake it.

“Isn’t all this moving too fast?” he answers with a question.

“What exactly?”

“This. All this. Why am I living at your place?”

My mind blanks. I search for an answer, but everything seems wiped away. I can barely concentrate.

“Why not?” I finally say, dodging the question.

He presses harder with his fingers on the thin skin of his forehead. He frowns, clearly disappointed with my answer.

“Do you think that’s normal?”