Chapter Thirteen

Sophie's POV

Was there anything more relaxing than lying back in a claw foot tub, immersed to your shoulders in warm, almost hot, water that was frothy with lavender and chamomile scented bubbles? I suppose there may have been, depending on who you asked, but for me, there was nothing that worked the tension from my muscles and made my eyes flutter, then close, while I sighed with contentment, the way that a soak in the tub did…at least, that was what I had thought, until Eames came in to the bathroom to wash my back for me.

I'd forgotten the luxury of baths, they were something that I had taken for granted, before everything had changed, and I'd always been content to grab a shower instead in my former life, but I felt differently now. Now I longed for the time to lose myself in the calming heat of the water, and I loved to lower my body into it slowly, and revel in the comfort as it surrounded me. The scent of the bubbles relaxed me, and took all of my worries away, if only for a moment, but how could I possibly unwind when he was in the room with me?

I knew that I ought to have been angry with him, after he'd behaved the way that he had, thrashing Detective Raymond like it was his right to do so, but I was quickly learning that he had a way about him that made it almost impossible to truly get mad at him, let alone to stay that way. Detective Hollis had assured me, more than once, that he would make sure that his partner wouldn't retaliate against Eames in a way that would see him arrested and charged with the assault and battery of a police officer, but who was to say what Raymond would do outside the boundaries of the law? I knew that Eames' actions had been in my defense, and I appreciated that he cared enough to protect me, no matter how foolhardy his actions might prove to be.

I knew that it was wrong of me to feel the way that I did, but I couldn't help but be thankful that his behavior had hindered me entering the place where I'd been held captive. Detective Hollis had felt that it was in everyone's best interest if we returned at another time to do so, and I can't even begin to describe the feeling of profound relief that had come over me when he told me that I didn't have to go inside. I'd felt like a coward, for not wanting to face the demons of my past, but it scared me to think about it, it made me sick to my stomach, I had a hard time breathing, and, quite frankly, it just hurt too much to even contemplate what waited for me inside that place, much less to make myself walk through the front door.

I'd managed to convey that I was irritated with Eames on the way back to his home, even though there had been a part of me, a weakness for him, that had longed to forgive him for his behavior, as well as for any wickedness that he might be responsible for in his past, present and future, the moment that he'd looked at me. I'd managed to hold on to my lukewarm temper during the entire ride back, but my resolve had melted as soon as I'd laid eyes on his hands as he unlocked the door, and I'd had no choice but to clean them for him, and even to blow on his knuckles after I'd applied peroxide to the abrasions, and that meant that I was a complete softy at heart, at least, I was where he was concerned, wasn't I?

He'd retreated into his study, with Arthur and Dom close on his heels, and there had been a part of me, that foolish weakness in me, that had wanted to follow them, because I'd known that they meant to chastise him, but I'd resisted the urge to stand by his side in favor of the comfort of the bath that had awaited me. I'd slowly filled the tub, pouring in plenty of bubble bath, and had just sunk down into the water when I'd heard his soft knock on the bathroom door.

I suppose that I ought to have told him to go away, because it wasn't proper for him to come into the bathroom while I was in the tub, stark-naked, even though I was covered to my shoulders with bubbles, but I hadn't wanted him to leave. Of course, I wasn't completely convinced that I wanted him to stay either, so I didn't say a word, I waited for him to make the decision for both of us, and he chose to open the door and step inside.

His eyes met mine and he smiled, a curving of his lips which began as something that was hesitantly friendly in nature, but changed to that which was something different altogether, something that was beguiling, and almost, well, that was downright seductive, as he shut the door and crossed the room, to stand beside the tub. I felt a quickening deep inside of me, manifesting itself between my thighs, when I saw that smile, and the look that was in his eyes, and I felt my nipples harden, almost painfully, in response.

"Hello, my dear," he said softly, in a tone that made me shiver, not that he needed much help in that area, given how his normal way of speaking never failed to make my heart beat a little faster. "It occurred to me that you might need someone to scrub your back for you, and I thought that I would volunteer…or am I being too cheeky, hmm?"

I suppose that I should have told him that yes, he was being too bold, but looking up at him, I realized that I wanted him to stay there with me, and, even more shocking, I did want him to put his hands on me. If the truth were to be told, I wanted him to reach beneath the cover of the bubbles, and run his fingertips over the slopes of my breasts, then to my nipples, to tease them and pinch them, and then, the most wicked epiphany of all, was that I wanted him to run his hand down my stomach, until it slipped between my thighs, so that he could caress that deliciously naughty fingertip over my…..

"Come now, darling, don't keep me in suspense," he murmured, hunkering down beside the tub, so that we were eye to eye with one another. "Shall I help you with your back, my sweet, or would you prefer that I stay out of your sight?"

He must have thought that I was still miffed with him, and I suppose that I could have pretended that I was, just to toy with him, but it never even occurred to me that I ought to make him squirm. I took a deep breath, gathering every last bit of courage that I possessed, and sat up in the tub, leaning forward, ensuring that my breasts were completely covered, while I bared most of my back, almost down to my waist.

"I would like that, Eames," I whispered, hiding a wince when I heard how trembly and breathless my voice sounded. "I have such a hard time reaching my back on my own."

I was pretty sure that we were both aware of the fact that I wasn't excited by the notion that my back would be so clean, and that was why I wanted him to put his hands on me. I was certain that he knew, just as well as I did, that I wanted him to touch me simply for the sake of doing so, but I wasn't about to admit that out loud, and fortunately, for me, he refrained from mentioning it as well. He was always careful to take things slowly with me, as though he was afraid that he might scare me if he moved too quickly…so I must have shocked him by taking the next step all on my own.

I reached out and took hold of his hand with mine, flesh that was wet and covered with soap meeting that which was wonderfully warm and calloused. I linked my fingers with his, and caressed him the way that he always touched me, and I had to hide a smile when I heard the way that his breath caught in his throat. I used my hold on him to tug him closer, boldly brushing the back of his hand against the side of my breast as I moved it to my back.

"Please don't bother with the washcloth," I said, reveling in the way that his eyes were darkening, and the fact that I could see his chest rising and falling rapidly as his breathing sped up. "I'd much prefer the feel of your hand instead, if you don't mind."

Eames' POV

She was trying to drive me mad. She was testing me, to see how strong I was, and how long I could stand the sweet torture of touching her soft, silken skin before I lost control of myself and allowed my hands to seek out places which were undoubtedly forbidden to me. Perhaps she was punishing me, for behaving like a Neanderthal and doing my damnedest to thoroughly beat Detective Raymond…or perhaps she was simply trying to kill me.

I suppose that I ought to have been concerned about her motives, I probably should have been outraged as well, but I was too busy enjoying the fact that I had her permission to run my hands up and down her back. Her flesh was warm and wet and slickened by the bubble bath that she'd added to the water and, the very best of all, it was bare, it was naked, and, for that moment, it was mine.

I knelt beside the tub, gently massaging her nape, which was beautifully bare, because she'd gathered her hair in a messy bun, then her shoulders, before I worked my palms down her back, to her waist, hovering over the swells of her backside, before I forced them back up again. I wanted to reach down and take her sweetly rounded bum in my hands, I longed to hold her that way while I kissed her, but I didn't dare do so, no more than I would have the nerve to take her breast into my hand, even though she'd brushed the back of my hand against the side of the right one as she directed me to the place that I was supposed to wash.

"Mm-hmm," she moaned, arching her back, in the manner of a cat that was blissfully engrossed in the stroking of your hand. "Oh, Eames, I could stay like this for hours, if your knees wouldn't get too sore, but can you imagine how my body would look afterward, all wrinkled, like a prune?"

I was already deeply immersed in the throes of twitterpated arousal, so let's just say that her breathy little moan did things to the intimate parts of my anatomy which were becoming increasingly painful, due to the tightness of my trousers. Needless to say, I was already in a bit of a fix, but then she brought the image of her naked body to my mind and that was enough provocation to send a burst of white-hot need coursing through my body, wrinkled flesh be damned.

"My knees are holding up just fine, my dear," I said, with a smile, thinking of the places on my body that were aching much more insistently. "I'll be happy to stay as I am just as long as you want me to…though you are bound to get chilled, once the water has lost all of its warmth."

I suppose that I could have mentioned something about how embarrassed she would be, once all of the bubbles had disappeared from her bathwater, but I didn't want to make her self-conscious, lest she lose her desire to be bold. I wasn't accustomed to her taking on the role of the aggressor, but I had to admit that I enjoyed allowing her to lead things in the direction that she preferred. The shadows that I had seen lurking in her eyes all day had faded, and I was happy to do anything and everything in my power to keep them away…though I had to admit that wasn't the only reason that I was so eager to allow her to have her way with me.

"Well, then, maybe I ought to get out now, before it gets too cold…or all of the bubbles are gone."

Oh, hell. She was looking at me expectantly, and though I'd never thought that I was all that dim, I had second thoughts at that moment because it took me a second or two to realize that she was waiting for me to take the thick red towel that she'd placed on the rod beside the tub in my hands and wrap it around her as she stepped out of the water. Dear God, did I dare do that? Did I have the strength to control myself? What if I was to catch a glimpse of her body, in all of its naked splendor? How could I possibly….?

"Of course, I can always manage on my own, if you'd rather I do so….." she murmured, her voice trailing away uncertainly, as she blushed and looked away from me.

Oh, yes, I was definitely an idiot, there were no ifs, ands, or buts about it, and, even worse than that, I'd embarrassed Sophie, and I'd undoubtedly hurt her feelings as well, and those were two things that I'd never intended to do. I'd wanted to keep the shadows out of her eyes, not cause more of them to come to life.

I reached out and pressed a fingertip to her lips, shushing her before she could continue, and then I rose to my feet with the full knowledge that she would see the proof of how she'd affected me, but there was nothing that could be done to help that, was there? I took the towel off of the bar and held it against my chest, to warm it, and then I reached out my hand to her, and hoped that she would still be inclined to take it in her own.

"Now why in the world would I want that?" I asked, and took a deep breath, one that was born from relief, when I felt her palm slide against mine. I trained my eyes on her face and used my hold on her hand to tug her, very gently, onto her feet, and she took the towel away from me and wrapped it around her body, saving me from myself in the process. She'd chosen one of the oversized bath towels, and it covered her luscious figure from my gaze, from her breasts down past her knees…though I have to be honest and admit that I caught a healthy glimpse of her chest, almost to her nipples, and I wouldn't have been the least bit surprised if my cock bore a permanent imprint of my zipper as a result of that not so innocent peek.

I bent my knees, wincing a bit and muttering a curse beneath my breath when the crotch of my trousers constricted my erection even further, and lifted her into my arms. I'd meant to lower her to stand on her feet, truly I did, but once I felt her in my arms, I was hesitant to let her go, and I moved my hold on her, then carried her, as a groom would a bride, out of the bathroom, and down the hall, to my bedroom.

I worried that Archie would be inside, waiting for us, because, though I loved the little fellow, his presence would definitely change the mood for Sophie and me, but thankfully he wasn't inside. I continued on my way across the room, until I reached the bed, where I laid her down, careful to keep her covered, and then I straightened and headed to the bureau where she kept her nightclothes and her panties. I drew out the gown that I liked best, the one that bared her cleavage to my appreciative eyes, and the purple knickers that were silky and soft and just barely covered her bum, and then I turned to face her…and nearly dropped both of them to the ground.

She'd sat up on the bed and turned so that her back was facing me…and I could see all of said back, because she'd dropped the towel, baring her flesh to the waist, so much so that I could see the upper swells of her backside. God, help. She was trying to drive me insane, it was the only explanation for her behavior, other than the one that said that she was a tease, and I knew better than that. She was alluring and beguiling and it was something that came naturally to her, a state of being that needed no practice at all, so she had to have been intent on making me mad instead…unless she was trying to kill me, that is.

"Would you be a dear and bring my brush as well, Eames?" she asked, her voice low and husky and tantalizing, a tone that I swore I could feel, like a teasing fingertip that traced its way up and down my spine, then around to the front, to caress my cock. "The bath worked wonders to relax me, but I wouldn't say no, if you wanted to be a dear and brush my hair for me…and then we'll see what I can do for you, to make you content, if you'd like that, my love."