Zyah laughed and turned to him, her arms sliding up his chest, hands linking behind his neck, fingers teasing his hair. “You’re becoming obsessed with my body.”
“Baby, I’m way past obsessed. Water on. Isn’t every man obsessed with your body?”
“Most definitely not.” She turned at the sound of the water pouring down. Steam rose. The inside of the shower was all rock, smooth so it was easy to walk or sit on the stone bench, but it looked like one was walking into a large cavern. The rocks were various shades of brown, black, gray and white.
Once they stepped into the structure, water swept over them from various directions. Player pulled Zyah back to him, protecting her from one of the jets so he could adjust it better to her height. “Is the water too hot?”
She shook her head. “It’s perfect. I like hot water.”
They were compatible in every way. She was adventurous. Playful. She lifted her hands to her hair as the water cascaded down. Laughing. Uncaring that her hair was going to be soaked even in the tight braid she’d woven.
“Do you want me to take your braid out?” Truthfully, he wanted to take it out more than anything. He didn’t get many chances to play with her hair.
“Not unless you have a blow-dryer in this house.”
He grinned at her and reached for the end of that long, luxurious, very thick braid. “Have you taken a look at my hair? I have one, I just don’t use the thing. Lana got me one. Then Alena did because she thought I didn’t like the first one.”
Zyah’s soft laughter made him happy. She drove away every demon just with that genuine sound. She let him wash and condition her hair and then her body. He took his time, using the gel to wash every inch of her. She took her turn, washing and conditioning his hair and then washing his body, paying attention to every nook and cranny. Zyah wasn’t shy about the human body, and he liked that.
It did occur to him that she might not be the kind of woman who would ever enjoy the kind of parties Torpedo Ink had, where the men and women often had open sex. They tended to feel much freer when their brethren were around to protect them, when they had eyes watching to ensure no one could harm the ones they loved. They all felt a little vulnerable when they had sex without someone watching their back. Zyah most likely would have a difficult time understanding that. He was already going to be asking her to forgive too many sins and understand too many of his issues to add that one to the list right at this time. He’d put it on the back burner.
“Where’d you go, honey?” Zyah asked as they stepped out of the shower.
“Water off,” he ordered. At once the water went off. He handed her a warm towel to wrap her hair in and another one to dry her body off with. She smiled at him when she put her feet on the warm tiles. For just that smile alone, he was glad he’d spent the extra money to put in the heating.
“I’m sorry I got you into this, Zyah, and very grateful to you that you’ve stuck it out with me. I know you didn’t have to. It’s important that you know how much I appreciate you sticking with me, trying to sort out the bomb business as well as going to Czar.”
She looked up at him, and then unexpectedly touched his mouth with the pads of her fingers, an intimate gesture, tracing his lips. “We’re in this together, Player, all the way until the end. I’m not deserting you. And tonight is our night. Everyone else can go away for tonight. Agreed?”
Damn straight he agreed. A slow smile spread across his face until it almost hurt. “Agreed. Come on, I’ll show you the living room. There are two. They sort of flow into each other. The large one, I suppose, was originally designed for entertaining, and the smaller one would be more intimate, for friends and family. Since I have rowdy friends and a lot of them, the larger of the two rooms, which would be more formal, is the one I use when they’re over. I prefer the smaller of the two rooms, which is strange because I like wide open spaces.”
“I have to dry my hair, crazy man.”
“We’ll dry it in the other room. Both have fireplaces. I’ll bring the blow-dryer as well and the brush and comb.”
“Are we just going to walk around naked?”
“Why not? If you put on clothes, I’m just going to keep taking them off of you, not that I mind, but you may as well be comfortable. There’s a hot tub and an indoor heated saltwater lap pool at the other end of the house. I think the man who built the house used them for his therapy. Do you like to swim?”
“I do, but I don’t like to rinse out my hair all the time. The doctor said water therapy would be good eventually for Mama Anat’s leg.”
Player nodded. “She mentioned that to me. I told her about the pool and said she could use it anytime she wanted to. I can give you a key.”
“That’s generous of you, Player.”
He laughed. “The others will tell you, I’m such a generous man.”
He pulled her through the kitchen to the living room, the one he particularly liked. Snatching up the remote, he flipped on the fireplace so the light would play through the room, illuminating it enough that she could see what he’d done with it. As with the dining room, he’d kept it simple. He didn’t like clutter. The hardwood floor gleamed with the firelight spilling across it. He noticed Zyah pressing her bare feet instantly into the wood. She liked to do that the same way he did.
The hearth was made of gray stone, and he had utilized that color throughout the room. The chairs faced the stone fireplace built into the wall. The stones were great blocks of various sizes and textures of dark and light shades of gray. The only rug was on the floor in front of the fireplace, a thick gray- and- black mat of hand- knotted silk and wool. The chairs were wide and comfortable, both in black, which matched the carpet and the darkest of the stones. Over the fireplace was a picture framed in gold, a burst of color: a very large painting of a forest in vivid detail, done by an artist he particularly admired.
He sank down into his favorite chair, the one closest to the fireplace, where his acoustic guitar was near to his hand on a stand. He kept it there to play at night when he couldn’t sleep, and he composed. He watched his woman walk around the room with that flowing grace she had, like a dancer, his private dancer. He wished she wore her anklet of bells. He had loved the sound of them as she’d moved around the room their first night together. Just that memory stirred his cock.
Zyah circled back to stand in front of him, the flames from the fireplace dancing over her body, licking at that secret place between her legs. “I can see why you love this room.”
He caught her hips and urged her toward him, hungry for her taste. One hand skimmed down her hip, trailing to the inside of her thigh. “I’m suddenly so hungry, baby, you’ll have to feed me before I starve.”
She threw her head back. “You’re supposed to be drying my hair.”
“After. I need to build up my strength to be up for the task.”
Her fingertips trailed over his cock, brushing fire over him. “You’re up for something,” she whispered, and stepped right into him, offering him everything.
THIRTEEN
Player walked very slowly, moving casually down the sidewalk in Sea Haven, glancing into the store windows as he passed them by. He targeted one store in particular. The sign was clever, wooden, in the shape of a hat, although what the name had to do with a tea and organic bath and lotion shop, he didn’t know. The Floating Hat sounded intriguing, but aside from cups in the windows looking like hats and the bells shaped like hats on the doors, the shop had nothing whatsoever to do with hats. What the hell did that even mean? Women. Always a mystery. Still, when he looked inside, the store felt inviting.