Two Can Play (Celeste and Dominic) novel Chapter 407

"We are supposed to be cleaning up."

"We are."

"That was not cleaning."

I looked at her, at the water streaming off her red hair, at the flush spreading down her chest, and something shifted inside me, a wall I had not known I was standing behind. "No," I said. "It was not."

We finished the job properly after that, and it was its own kind of strange. She washed me and I washed her, and this time we kept our hands honest, mostly, and the steam wrapped around us until my skin pricked with heat and the water ran cold at the edges.

I had never dried a woman either. She stood on the bath mat, dripping, and let me run the towel over her shoulders, her breasts, her stomach, her hips, and when I was done she took another towel and did the same for me, and it was the strangest thing I had ever done with a woman, stranger than the sex, stranger than the kissing, and I did not hate it. I did not hate any of it.

We went back into the bedroom, and I stripped the sheets off the bed, the evidence of what we had done earlier still pressed into them, and I pulled fresh white linen from the wardrobe and made the bed the way I had been taught, corners tight, hospital neat. She watched me work with that pleased smile of hers, and then she picked up a towel and nodded at the chair by the window.

"Sit."

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