Chapter 9: Dangerous Waters
I had a problem when it came time to bathe Max.
Max was a Labrador mix that Jake and I had rescued as a stray. He was a big dog, and bathing him was always a challenge. Several local groomers had refused his business because he was so rambunctious. His tail was like a weapon–I swear sometimes I thought my shins would break from the force of his happy whips. Jake and I had always bathed him together at my place. I couldn’t control Max
alone–he was too strong and wild.
But now that Jake had a girlfriend, asking him to come over and help me bathe my dog seemed inappropriate. After some deliberation, I called Alex.
“…So that’s the situation. No worries if you can’t help.”
Alex agreed immediately, sounding confident: “Don’t worry about it. It’s just one dog–I’ve got this.”
An hour later, Alex was grimacing as he rolled up his pants leg to examine the angry red marks across his skin.
“Seriously, Autumn, shouldn’t Labrador tails be classified as dangerous weapons?
This is assault.”
Max had taken to Alex immediately, mostly because Alex had bribed him with a
giant piece of cod jerky the moment he arrived. The dog kept circling him excitedly, his tail hammering against Alex’s legs.
Alex hissed in pain as he lifted Max into the bathtub and started lathering him up. As soon as water touched him, Max went berserk, frantically trying to stand up and leap onto Alex. When Alex turned his back to adjust the water temperature, Max
pounced, catching him off guard and sending him stumbling toward me.
The bathroom was tiny, and Alex was a 6’3” wall of pure muscle. With Max’s added
weight pushing from behind, he crashed into me with full force. I would have been
flattened if he hadn’t managed to brace himself at the last second, his strong arms
shooting out to cage me against the wall.
Even so, his body pressed fully against mine, trapping me between the cool tile
and
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his radiating heat. I could feel every hard plane of his chest, every ridge of his abs, even the buckle of his belt digging slightly into my stomach. My breath caught in my throat.
Steam swirled around us, intensifying the scent of Alex’s cologne–mint and citrus mixed with something deeper and more primal. His white button–down was completely soaked through, clinging to his body like it had been painted on, revealing every contour of his sculpted torso. Water droplets traced tantalizing paths down his neck, disappearing beneath his collar.
My eyes involuntarily traveled upward from his chest, where I could see his nipples hardening against the wet fabric. The thin material left almost nothing to the imagination. A flush crept up my neck that had nothing to do with the steam. We were so close I could feel his breath against my lips, coming slightly faster than normal. Maybe it was the steam, but his lips looked fuller and redder than usual, slightly parted as if in invitation. His eyes, normally so clear and light, had darkened to the color of stormy seas as they locked onto mine. I couldn’t look away from that intense gaze.
“I…” My voice failed me. I was painfully aware of my own rapid heartbeat, wondering if he could feel it hammering against his chest.
His leg had somehow slipped between mine in our collision, and I became acutely aware of his closeness, sending unexpected warmth through me. A single
movement would only bring us closer.
A drop of water fell from his hair onto my lips. Without thinking, my tongue darted out to taste it, and I watched his eyes track the movement, his pupils dilating further.
His hands, which had been braced against the wall on either side of my head, shifted slightly. One moved down to brush a strand of hair from my face, his thumb grazing my flushed cheek. The simple touch sent electricity shooting down my spine.
“…You okay?” His voice was lower than usual, rougher.
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I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. For a moment, I was certain he was going to kiss me. Part of me–a larger part than I wanted to admit–hoped he would. Alex paused, then slowly straightened up, though he seemed reluctant to put distance between us. His mouth curved into a suggestive smile that made my
knees weaken.
“I’m fine,” he said, his eyes never leaving mine. “But what about you? Your face is awfully red.”
He leaned closer again, tilting his head. His finger traced the outline of my jaw, coming to rest under my chin. His eyes feigned innocence, but that perfect M- shaped mouth looked anything but as he asked, “Autumn, are you running a
fever?”
The double meaning wasn’t lost on me. Every drop of blood in my body seemed to
rush simultaneously to my face and other, more sensitive areas. The bathroom
suddenly felt impossibly small, impossibly hot, impossibly charged with tension. “I just remembered something I need to do,” I stammered, ducking under his arm. “You finish bathing him, okay?”
I practically crawled out of the bathroom on all fours, my legs too unsteady to
trust. Behind me, I heard a soft, knowing laugh that sent another shiver down my
spine.
In the hallway, I leaned against the wall, pressing my cool palms to my burning
cheeks.
