I drop to my knees, pull off her shoe, and set it on the floor. When I look at her, those stormy blue eyes finally calm, and a hint of a smile dances at the corner of her lip. My hands run up her legs slowly, leaving plenty of time for her to object to my touch, but she doesn’t. When my fingers find the hem of her oversized sweatpants, I cautiously drag them down while grazing her hips, round ass, and thighs. I don’t miss the way her breath becomes labored or that her eyes have filled with the same desire as mine. But I don’t dare take this too far. I’m not here because I want to fuck Grace, but because I love her and need her to let me close to her again. I need her trust more than I need my next breath, so I’ll slowly take each and every article of her clothing off and keep all of my own firmly on.
I force myself to my feet when she’s down to a pair of cotton black panties and bra.
“I’ll go draw your bath,” I say, walking backward just to look at her.
“Good luck with that,” she laughs, and when I turn around, I notice why.
“You don’t have a bathtub…damn it.”
“Nope.”
The walk-in shower is impressive but doesn’t offer her any support, not even a place to sit down, and she needs to rest as much as possible. An idea comes to mind, and I take off downstairs and out onto the balcony, grabbing the metal chair and shrugging my shoulders at my daughter, who’s eating with my parents, but I don’t stop to explain.
Back upstairs, I catch Grace leaning against the bathroom wall, adjusting the water. A trash bag is secured around her cast. Her soft skin seems to glow, wild blonde hair falling around her face.
“Do you want this chair?”
“Oh, yes thank you.”
I place the chair over a towel so it doesn’t scratch her tile and won’t slip.
“Well, what mama wants, mama gets.”
That makes her laugh. God, I love her laugh. She takes my arm and lets me guide her to sit in the shower. The spray instantly changes her bright blonde locks darker, each strand clinging to her body. I’m frozen in place as she slips off her bra, then pushes those black panties down her hips and past her feet.
“Will you hand me that?”
I faintly hear her question over the roaring blood in my ears as her beautiful body sits before me, bare, vulnerable, and soaking wet.
Shaking out of my stupor, I clear my throat and hand her the bright pink loofah hanging from the hook just out of her reach.
“Thank you.”
“Would you like me to leave? Wash your back? Watch you wash your back?” I mutter like a fool.
“I’d like you to stay. I don’t want to be alone,” she says so quietly I barely hear her.
Grace could ask me to do anything, and I’d do it, but she never asks, so this is a big moment. I don’t hesitate to kick off my shoes, strip down to my boxer briefs, and step inside the shower. Steam billows around us, but all I see is Grace. All I smell is her chamomile soap, and all I hear is her heavy breathing and the rhythmic downpour of the shower. I kneel again at her feet, taking the soapy sponge and running it up her left leg. Once I reach her hip, I repeat each stroke across her right leg.
“Marcus,” she whispers, almost breathless.
“I could make you feel good, Grace.” I lick my lips, feeling bold. “Might not take all the pain away, but I could make you feel so good you forget about it for a while.”
“Yes.” She nods with a longing look in her eyes, I swear I’m not imagining.
“Tell me, baby.”
“I want that. Make me forget Marcus.”
“What Mama wants; Mama gets,” I tell her again, then press my lips to her sweet-smelling skin. I kiss her ankle, her calf, and I nibble the inside of her thigh, which earns me a gasp from her pretty little mouth. This is escalating quickly, but if it’s all I can give her, I plan to ring as many orgasms out of her as possible.
Running my tongue the rest of the way up, I adjust my weight and dive into her sweet center. Her moan is loud, but I don’t think about the consequences of being heard. All that’s on my mind is her pleasure.