Chapter Thirty-Five - Victoria
The tub is small and round. Not oval, like they normally are so people can stretch out and relax. It’s big, don’t get me wrong. But it’s round. How does a person relax in a round tub? Obviously whoever designed this ship didn’t ask a woman’s opinion.
So I opt for a shower. And the water is wonderfully hot and soothing. The steam relaxes my muscles and I relish in this new calm we have settled in.
I know there’s more to the story than anyone is telling me at this point, but I can’t afford to make a big deal about it. The last thing I need is that scary Mr. Mysterious asking me how I got involved in all this.
I frown.
It’s gonna come out. There’s no way I’m not gonna get asked that question.
I’m just rinsing the conditioner out of my hair when the bathroom door opens and West walks in. He’s already naked and he says nothing as he steps into the shower with me and lets the water pound down on top of his head.
I grab the soap and start washing his chest, which makes him open his eyes and smile. “I’m OK,” he says.
“I know you are,” I say back. “Just trying to make it easier.”
He smiles bigger at that and starts shampooing his hair. I rub the soap up and down his arms, scrubbing away the dirt and grime, then bend down and get his legs, starting at his feet and working my way up. I look up at him and he’s got his head tilted to the side, with a big questioning grin on his face.
“Really?” he asks.
“What?” I say back, blinking my eyes innocently. “I’m just trying to help you out here Mr. Conrad. Get you nice and clean.”
“Miss Arias. If you get on your knees in front of my cock, I’m gonna come up with some expectations.”
I laugh. “Something like this?” I ask, taking his dick in my soapy hands and lathering it up. My motion is slow, way too fucking slow for what he’s thinking about right now. I look up at him as I do it. “Or am I reading you wrong here?”
“I’ll take that first,” he says, with a chuckle.
I’m relieved that he’s not as tense as he was when we first came aboard. I know something is going on between him and his friends. Maybe something he doesn’t want me to know. But I’m too tired to worry about that right now. I just want a night of peace. Just one night next to him in a bed with his arms around me.
Tomorrow can wait. Everything else can wait.
West lifts the shower head off the holder and starts spraying the soap off his body. The white frothy bubbles run down his abs, his cock, his legs.
I smile up at him as I bring the tip of his head to my lips, licking him as the water trickles into my mouth.
He inhales deeply, his hands automatically on the back of my head. And the next time I look up, he’s got his eyes closed.
I go back to work. Sucking him, my hands pumping up and down, his skin slick and smooth from the water.
“Let’s get out,” he says, reaching for my arm and urging me to stand. “Come on, let’s get out and finish this in bed. I just need you next to me right now.”
I stand up and we both rinse the leftover soap off us real fast, and then West shuts the water off. He reaches past me for a towel hanging on a rack and begins to dry me off. First my hair, ruffling it up. And I don’t even care. It will be a wild tangled mess when it dries, but I don’t care.
He likes me wild, right?
I grab another towel and dry him as he continues with me. I rub it down his perfect chest and hard abs, bending down again to dry his legs. When I come back up, he bends down to dry mine and I ruffle his hair too.
“That’s super-sexy,” I say.
“Why do you think I did it to you?”
We smile, and I might even blush a little.
How long has it been since we were this comfortable?
Years. Maybe even ten years. It was like this in the beginning. Everything was fun and new. He could do no wrong in my eyes and he never complained that I wasn’t listening or didn’t understand his point of view.
We just… accepted each other the way we were.
Maybe that’s the secret to a long-lasting relationship? Acceptance.
People say those vows when they get married. For better or worse and all that. But do people really mean them?
Maybe I’m just cynical?
Maybe I should be less cynical?
“What are you thinking about?” West asks.
“You,” I say. “Us.”
“This fucked-up shit I got you into?”
“It’s not your fault, West. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine. For fucking up your job.”
“Nah. I have a feeling this shit was coming no matter what. I told you about my friends, remember? Something is happening, Tori. And I’m really not sure how it’s gonna all shake out.”
“It’s gonna be fine, OK? I know it.”
“You can’t know that.”
“I know. But I’m gonna go with it anyway. I can’t do this anymore, Weston. I really can’t. I’m tired of making decisions and putting out fires, and worrying about every little thing. And maybe this is the absolute worst time to make this change? Maybe this is the perfect time to keep doing what I’m doing, considering what we just went through. But I don’t care. I’m tired. So just take me to bed, Weston Conrad. I feel safe here. As long as I’m in your arms tonight I know we’re going to be OK. I’m just glad we’re together.”
West has a very serious look on his face when he nods and puts his hand out for mine.
I take it and he leads me into the cabin, turning off the light as he passes a switch on the wall.
He pulls back the covers, only partly visible in the low light coming through the portholes, and I climb in, relishing the softness of the sheets and the warmth of his body as he presses himself up to me.
“We’re safe here,” I say. “I can feel it.”