Page 92 of Shadows of Obsession

Directly opposite the door was the walk-in shower, spacious enough for two, a detail I noticed with a flutter in my stomach that had nothing to do with nerves. The lower half of the shower walls were clad in elegant marble tiles veined with bold gray swirls, while the upper half was crystal-clear glass, now completely opaque with steam.

Through the hazy glass, I could just make out Jaxon's powerful form standing motionless under the wide rainfall showerhead. His arms were stretched out before him, hands braced flat against the wall like he was holding himself up. His head was bowed, water sluicing over his broad shoulders and running in rivulets down the tense plane of his back.

Oh, Jaxon.

Every line of his body betrayed the heavy emotional burden he was struggling under, and my heart clenched painfully at the sight. Whatever was wrong, whatever he was dealing with, it was eating him alive.

And he was trying to face it alone.

I swallowed hard, my pulse kicking into overdrive, fluttering wildly at the base of my throat. I stood frozen for a moment, transfixed by the raw vulnerability on display, a side of Jaxon he'd never let me see before.

The steam hung thick in the air, making my bare skin prickle with damp heat. My breathing came in shallow, uneven pants that sounded far too loud in the enclosed space.

Now or never.

Gathering my courage, I released the knot of my towel with shaking fingers. The terrycloth fell away, puddling on the floor around my feet with a muffled thump that made heat flood my cheeks, even in the heavy humidity.

My steps were hesitant and measured as I moved forward, carefully stepping over the crumpled towel and onto the plush bathmat. My toes sank into the dense fibers as I approached the shower entrance, each step feeling monumental, like I was crossing a threshold I couldn't uncross. Entering a space where there would be no more hiding, no more walls, no more carefully maintained distance.

The heat radiating from the steaming water embraced me as I reached the step up into the shower, chasing away the chill and surrounding me in warmth. But it did nothing to quell the trembling that had my muscles quivering with each breath.

He might push me away. He might tell me to leave. This could all blow up in my face. But I had to try.

I felt acutely vulnerable, stripped bare both physically and emotionally, as I gathered my resolve and stepped inside. Steam engulfed me, as if drawn by an invisible thread.

The water was hot, almost too hot, immediately soaking into my hair and running down my skin. I blinked against the spray, my vision adjusting to the haze of steam and cascading water.

Careful not to slip on the wet tiles, I stepped farther into the shower, my gaze fixed on the powerful breadth of Jaxon's tense shoulders. The billowing steam swirled around us, diffusing the soft light and blurring everything until it felt like we were the only two people in existence.

Time seemed to slow and distort as I drew closer, the sound of my erratic heartbeat nearly drowning out the drum of the water against the tiles.I reached out with a trembling hand, my fingers hovered just above his back, close enough to feel the heat of his skin but not quite touching.

"Jaxon," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the sound of the water.

Despite being lost in his own thoughts, he seemed to sense my presence. His back muscles rippled as he inhaled deeply and stood up straight, his arms falling to his sides. The shift in his posture sent water cascading differently down his back, revealing the defined lines of muscle beneath.

I lifted my hand again, hovering for a breathless moment before placing my palm gently on the slick skin of his back, splaying my fingers wide. His skin was hot beneath my touch, smooth and wet. I tried to ground myself inthe solid warmth of him.

I felt his subtle flinch at the unfamiliar, or maybe just unexpected touch, followed by a shaky exhale that gusted past his lips, barely audible over the rush of water.

Summoning every ounce of courage I possessed, I stepped even closer. The steam-heated air seemed to part around me as I slipped my arms around his torso, pressing the entire length of my body flush against his back.

The contact was electric. Every nerve ending came alive where our skin touched, my chest against his back, my thighs against his, the water creating both a barrier and a connection all at once.

I rested my cheek between the sharp blades of his shoulders, closing my eyes and focusing on the sound of his heartbeat. Strong and slightly too fast beneath my ear, the rhythmic pulse grounded me, an anchor against the storm of emotions threatening to sweep me under.

"I heard you come in," Jaxon said, his deep voice barely above a murmur but still startling in the quiet.

The words were heavy with emotion—relief, apprehension, longing—all tangled together in a way that made my chest ache.

Jaxon turned to face me slowly, and I had to step back slightly to give him room. His large hands skimmed down my sides to rest tentatively on the flare of my hips, his rough palms a delicious abrasion against my water-slick skin. His touch was gentle but electric, sending sparks racing along my nerve endings and making my breath hitch in my throat.

He angled our bodies so his broad shoulders blocked most of the spray, shielding me from the direct stream. The gesture was protective, instinctive, and it made something warm bloom in my chest despite the anxiety still churning in my stomach.

His storm-cloud eyes never wavered as they mapped my face, taking in every minute shift in my expression. Unspoken questions hung in the charged space between us, a thousand unvoiced fears and desires threatening to spill from his lips. But still he held back, his jaw clenching with the effort to maintain his iron control.

I watched, mesmerized, as a single drop of water slid from his temple down the sharp plane of his cheek to catch in the dark stubble along his jaw. It clung there for a suspended moment before dropping silently to shatter on the tile below.

The air felt too thick to breathe. That single bead of moisture somehow a perfect representation of the fragile, tenuous understanding that stretched taut between us.