She raised her eyebrows at the ‘please.’ That sounded almost foreign coming from his lips. But she passed him the hair ties.
He drew her hair back and braided it. He must have done this for his wife. She felt sad at the thought of how much he must have loved her. How much he must miss her. She wondered how she’d died.
He twisted the braid into a bun and then secured it with the second hair tie. Then he took hold of her hand and led her to the bathtub.
“You need to keep your injured foot out of the water.” He helped her sit while laying her foot on the outer edge of the tub. She sighed as the warm water soothed her muscles.
Spike grabbed a clean washcloth from the cupboard and then walked over to crouch beside her. She foolishly reached for the cloth.
He drew his hand away, giving her hand a light tap. She flushed even as her insides danced. He really was going to wash her, wasn’t he?
Sliding the cloth around in slow circles, he had her sit forward to do her back and arms first, then he moved around to her front. To her surprise, he didn’t linger on her breasts.
“Lie back, baby doll.”
She lay back so her neck rested on the edge of the tub. Then he tapped her shoulders. She opened her eyes to find he’d rolled up a towel. She sat up slightly and he put it behind her head before guiding her back.
Wow.
She hadn’t realized men this thoughtful existed. Who were protective and caring, who would also find her attractive. Sexy.
Seriously, he was ruining her for all other daddies.
The washcloth went lower down her stomach and she stiffened slightly. Having someone touch her stomach wasn’t her favorite. But he must have sensed what she was thinking, because he rubbed the cloth back and forth until she relaxed.
Then he moved to her feet, cleaning them more thoroughly than she ever would have, avoiding her burn of course, before moving up her legs. He slid the cloth over her pussy lips. She let out a small groan. Opening her eyes, she saw the way he was bent over the tub, concentrating on his task.
Oh, she knew she shouldn’t.
But she just couldn’t resist.
He was so serious all the time. He needed a bit of messing with, right? She put her hand under the water, cupping it then quickly pushed it forward, splashing a whole lot of water up into his face.
Far more than she’d meant to, actually.
And she’d been aiming for his shoulder.
Whoops.
He froze. Almost as though he couldn’t believe she’d just done that.
Truth was, she couldn’t believe she’d just done that either. She sat there, staring at him, her heart racing. Either she’d made a huge mistake and she was in a world of trouble . . . or he’d find the funny side.
Somehow, she thought it might be the first.
When he turned to face her, water dripping off his face and down onto his T-shirt, she squealed and slid under the water.
Oh Lord save her.
Strong hands slid under her arms and he drew her up with a stern look.
“Don’t do that. You could drown.”
“In a bathtub? I don’t think so. I know how to swim, or you know, sit up.”
“You want to watch your sass right now, Millicent Margaret.”
Uh-oh. Two names. Definitely in trouble.