never see her angel again.
But then he turns and strips off his jacket. He reaches down, wraps her in it and scoops her up into the safety of his arms. She automatically feels a pang of guilt for, once again, only seeing the worst in him.
Her step brother has two faces. That much she knows now more than ever.
She wraps her arms around his shoulders, breathing out and resting her head against his chest. He carries her for what feels like a good 20 minutes. “I can walk the rest of the way I you want me to?” she says softly him. He shakes his head, hiking her up higher in his arms.
It feels good, being held by him. Her eyes flutter shut, lashes brushing his bare chest, as she lets her mind drift off.
Finally she hears a creak and opens her eyes. Much to her surprise they're not back at the car and the creaking sound is a door—a door to an unfamiliar cabin.
“ Where are we?” she asks, glancing around and taking in the interior of the cabin.
“ Remember when dad I used to take those fishing trips?” he says as he carries her through the house.
Oh, it all made sense now. They used to leave for the weekend several times a year for “bonding” trips. She never really paid much attention to it, she was just glad Cole was out of her hair. She squints to get a better look at the décor—the place is fairly spacious, and definitely has a masculine vibe to it, but it's comfortable and homey. All this time and she had no idea they owned a cabin.
He takes her through the bedroom and into the bathroom, setting her down in the old fashioned tub. The last thing she wanted was to leave his arms, but the second he puts her down she realizes just how dirty and grimy she actually is.
She watches him carefully as tests the water against the back of his hand before letting it fill the tub. She leans back as the warm water pools around her ankles and slowly rises higher. Its the most relaxing thing she could imagine after a day like this.
She lets out a sigh as he takes the washcloth and soap and lathers it, scrubbing her gently, starting with her arms. He makes his way down her body, over her chest and back first, before trailing down her breasts, torso, thighs, and finally her feet.
She watches the muscles in his strong arms twitch as they dip beneath the surface of the water. He rings out the cloth several times before placing his hand lightly on her back. “Up,” he tells her, prompting her to sit forward. He rinses her back, with the cloth first and then just with his bare hands. With the clean water he rinses her hair, adding a few drops of shampoo and lathering her with his fingers against her scalp.
He scoops her out of the bathtub and on to her feet, drying her off with a fluffy towel and then wrapping her in it before sitting her on the toilet.
He pushes his hand under the towel against her thigh, revealing a gash that's no longer bleeding. There's another, smaller one on the same leg right below her knee. They're both flesh wounds but he takes care of them anyways, pulling out a first aid kit, sterilizing them both, which makes her wince. And covering them with band aids. She watches him intently as he works, his brows low and furrowed, his eyes focused as if he were creating an immaculate piece of art.
He runs his finger lightly along the edge of her bandage, making sure it's sealed and in place. Then he brings his lips down to her skin. “I'm sorry,” he says, and presses them against her thigh.
“ Don't be,” she replies. He looks up at her, as if he's surprised to hear her response.
“ You should get some rest now,” he says, his voice quiet and surprisingly soothing. She runs her hand through his lush hair, only to have him grab it and press his lips against the inside of her wrist.
He lifts her up into his arms once more, removing her from the bathroom and placing her in bed, under the covers. He kisses her temple and she wants nothing more than for him to slide into bed next her , but he
But then he turns and strips off his jacket. He reaches down, wraps her in it and scoops her up into the safety of his arms. She automatically feels a pang of guilt for, once again, only seeing the worst in him.
Her step brother has two faces. That much she knows now more than ever.
She wraps her arms around his shoulders, breathing out and resting her head against his chest. He carries her for what feels like a good 20 minutes. “I can walk the rest of the way I you want me to?” she says softly him. He shakes his head, hiking her up higher in his arms.
It feels good, being held by him. Her eyes flutter shut, lashes brushing his bare chest, as she lets her mind drift off.
Finally she hears a creak and opens her eyes. Much to her surprise they're not back at the car and the creaking sound is a door—a door to an unfamiliar cabin.
“ Where are we?” she asks, glancing around and taking in the interior of the cabin.
“ Remember when dad I used to take those fishing trips?” he says as he carries her through the house.
Oh, it all made sense now. They used to leave for the weekend several times a year for “bonding” trips. She never really paid much attention to it, she was just glad Cole was out of her hair. She squints to get a better look at the décor—the place is fairly spacious, and definitely has a masculine vibe to it, but it's comfortable and homey. All this time and she had no idea they owned a cabin.
He takes her through the bedroom and into the bathroom, setting her down in the old fashioned tub. The last thing she wanted was to leave his arms, but the second he puts her down she realizes just how dirty and grimy she actually is.
She watches him carefully as tests the water against the back of his hand before letting it fill the tub. She leans back as the warm water pools around her ankles and slowly rises higher. Its the most relaxing thing she could imagine after a day like this.
She lets out a sigh as he takes the washcloth and soap and lathers it, scrubbing her gently, starting with her arms. He makes his way down her body, over her chest and back first, before trailing down her breasts, torso, thighs, and finally her feet.
She watches the muscles in his strong arms twitch as they dip beneath the surface of the water. He rings out the cloth several times before placing his hand lightly on her back. “Up,” he tells her, prompting her to sit forward. He rinses her back, with the cloth first and then just with his bare hands. With the clean water he rinses her hair, adding a few drops of shampoo and lathering her with his fingers against her scalp.
He scoops her out of the bathtub and on to her feet, drying her off with a fluffy towel and then wrapping her in it before sitting her on the toilet.
He pushes his hand under the towel against her thigh, revealing a gash that's no longer bleeding. There's another, smaller one on the same leg right below her knee. They're both flesh wounds but he takes care of them anyways, pulling out a first aid kit, sterilizing them both, which makes her wince. And covering them with band aids. She watches him intently as he works, his brows low and furrowed, his eyes focused as if he were creating an immaculate piece of art.
He runs his finger lightly along the edge of her bandage, making sure it's sealed and in place. Then he brings his lips down to her skin. “I'm sorry,” he says, and presses them against her thigh.
“ Don't be,” she replies. He looks up at her, as if he's surprised to hear her response.
“ You should get some rest now,” he says, his voice quiet and surprisingly soothing. She runs her hand through his lush hair, only to have him grab it and press his lips against the inside of her wrist.
He lifts her up into his arms once more, removing her from the bathroom and placing her in bed, under the covers. He kisses her temple and she wants nothing more than for him to slide into bed next her , but he
Similar Books
