I leaned my forehead on the cool tiles, widened my stance when he directed me, and enjoyed his free hand sliding over my flank.
“Aaron,” I gasped.
“We need to talk.”
“We are talking.”
“No, I mean, really talk, about everything.”
Christ. I couldn’t think of anything worse than that. “Really? We have to?”
“I’m not like this,” he said, kissing the back of my neck as the hot shower spray ran down the crease of my ass.
“Not like what?”
He spread my cheeks, and the water bathed my tender opening. I shivered at the sensation.
“Feels good,” I murmured.
“Don’t move.”
I stayed where I was and heard him bumping around in the stall, opening shower gel, and then the mesh sponge was gliding over my back, down over my ass, and between my legs. He took his time washing me, making sure he missed nothing, and then did my hair, massaging my scalp until I put my head down on his shoulder.
“Let me rinse you off, and we’ll go get some dinner.”
I lifted up to look in his eyes. “I actually need to talk to your brother.”
He shook his head. “No.”
“I—”
“Just let me get this soap off you.”
I closed my eyes and put my head back as he combed his fingers through my hair.
“Okay, you’re good,” he rumbled, kissing my throat. “Now get out so I can shower. You smell all clean, and I smell like sweat and cum.”
“I’m not complaining,” I said, my eyes drifting open. “And I should return the favor and bathe you.”
“I’m not the one who never gets any tenderness thrown his way, Detective. It should always be me taking care of you.”
“That doesn’t seem fair.”
“It is. Believe me, it is.”
I found myself frozen there, unable to leave him.
“What’s with the look?”
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” I was checking.
“No, Duncan, you never hurt me.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure,” he sighed. “Now go already.”
I got out, dried off, and ran product through my hair. I put on lotion because, otherwise, my skin got really dry. I had to hunt for a minute for the deodorant because it wasn’t where it was supposed to be, and then I left the bathroom for my bedroom.