Chapter Ten
Lily lit the vanilla-scented candles then put the lighter back into a drawer. She’d snuck out of the room and asked Marie for candles and a lighter, and the sweet lady gave them to her quickly, no questions asked. She scanned the majestic bathroom, which looked like something straight from the pages of an upscale decorating magazine. Ever since she’d arrived that morning, she’d been dying to take a bath in the oversize marble tub. But she hadn’t had the time, so she’d chosen the stand-in shower instead.
Now she had a much better reason to use it with Marco.
She withdrew travel-size shampoos from her toiletry bag. When he’d admitted how much he enjoyed the way she made him feel when she washed his hair, something warm and fuzzy had enveloped her. She’d expected him to be mad for the setback she’d caused regarding his cousin, but he surprised her by finding a way to work together in the end. Would he be like this in a real relationship?
Lily snorted. Yeah, like it mattered. She’d never know. He’d been clear from the start about his intentions. In fact, he’d paid her so there wouldn’t be any lines crossed. Shaking her head, willing away any silly hope of their hot sex contract leading to something more, she took the luxurious shower gel from the cabinet. Several exquisite bottles occupied the three shelves, filled with all kinds of skin care and beauty products.
She turned on the tap, made sure the warm water filled the tub, and poured in a generous amount of gel. Quickly, bubbles formed, and a white foam took over the tub. Hmmm… He’d asked her to wash his hair. What was stopping her from joining him?
Not a thing.
Liquid heat pooled in her core. She peeled off her clothes and folded them on a chair. Then, she picked the bottles she’d need and placed them on a stool next to the tub. Giggling, she stepped inside and sank into the hot, scented bath, luxuriating in the water as it skimmed over her bare skin and covered her breasts. The foam kissed the tips of her nipples, making them pebble into taut points. “You can come inside,” she called, already anticipating him coming in her.
The door swung open, and he greeted her with the most gorgeous, devilish smile on his face, his eyes darkening as soon as his gaze landed on her. “Well, well… This should be fun.”
“I figured it’d be easier to wash your hair if I’m in here.”
He removed his shirt and dropped it to the floor. “Of course.”
He pulled down his pants and underwear in one swift movement and shoved them to the side. God, he was beautiful. She gave herself a few seconds to gape at him, appreciating how his muscles moved as he walked up to her. The ridges and planes of his body were like a map she wanted to explore again and again.
She didn’t allow her gaze to slide past his six-pack, knowing full well she’d find a hard-on waiting for her. A delicious current went up her spine. How in the heck would she be able to do what he asked when she wanted to fuck him right now? She had to be strong and wait to give in to her arousal, which would only make the sex even better.
She scooted against the end of the tub. “I want you to sit between my legs, with your back against me.”
“But then I’d be missing out on the view.”
“I need to do a good job. Just follow my lead for once.”
He let out a sigh of amusement, with the silent statement he doubted either of them would manage to keep their hands off each other for long.
When he dipped down in front of her, she wrapped her legs around his torso and lifted a bit so she’d be taller than him.
“If anyone opened a hair salon with this technique, they’d become a billionaire overnight,” he said.
She chuckled and reached for the bottle on the chair. She opened the cap, added some water, and splashed some of it in his hair, wetting it until the ends curled under her touch. She heard a groan from him. They hadn’t even started, and he was already out of sorts.
“Hair washing is one of my favorite things to do. I know it must be so uninteresting to a guy who takes out CEOs and the like,” she said, wondering about the kind of women he dated. Did he prefer powerful business types who knew the score? Or long-legged top models? A Google search would give her the answer, but her stomach tightened with dread.
“You’re the most interesting person I’ve ever met,” he said.
Her heart flipped, and she almost wished she could excuse herself and go deal with her unleashed emotions in private. He hadn’t asked her to move in with him, for crying out loud. He hadn’t even offered her any clues that he’d like to take her on something as trivial as an actual date after their contract came to an end.
She swallowed. He’d complimented her on something other than her looks, or her sexual skills, and the part of her that yearned for acceptance was far too excited. More excited than she was by the way his back rubbed against her sensitive nipples, sending electrical charges into her clit, making it pulse. “Thanks. You’re not bad for a money-hungry Italian billionaire. Because I meet those every day, you know.”
For a time that stretched for longer than she counted, she massaged his scalp, her fingers working through his hair. His shoulders relaxed, and she felt rather than heard his sigh. He enjoyed this. “You weren’t kidding me, huh. You like me to play with your hair.”
“I’m sure if you find a shrink, she’ll say I wasn’t touched much as a child.”
“Were you?”
“Not really. I got used to it, though.”
“Did your brother suffer the same scrutiny you did growing up?” she asked. The little he told her always involved him being shunned, but nothing about Nico. She hadn’t met Nico yet, so she couldn’t appraise if the treatment he received from their father was as cold and distant as it was for Marco.
“No. He was born already, and our mother didn’t have any problems when he was the only child. When she became pregnant with me, she had a complicated pregnancy and after my early arrival, she started to lose it.”
“Did your brother ever tell you if he remembers any episodes, any events prior to you being born? Mental illness doesn’t happen overnight.”
She watched his back muscles tensed temporarily, and she squeezed him tighter for a moment, hoping her silent act of encouragement would keep him talking. “It doesn’t. She was a brilliant woman, I hear. She married at eighteen and got pregnant soon after. She had a somewhat erratic behavior, but my father, being older, assumed it was an age thing. When I came along, she found herself with a toddler and a baby, and it was too much for her to handle.”
She drifted her hand down to his shoulders for a moment and traced an invisible pattern on his flesh. “Didn’t she have help?”
“Yes, but my father played dumb at first. He didn’t want to admit she had problems until the situation spun out of control.”
“It was probably hard for him to see her that way,” she said, by no means justifying his actions. “When my father was diagnosed with cancer, my mom took it pretty hard. They were happily married, and she knew he wouldn’t make it for a long time,” she said.
“I’m sorry. Sounds like you were very close to him.”
“I was. He was a straight shooter, but also protective of me,” she said, finding it difficult to continue speaking without a strained voice.
Closing her eyes, she willed away the sadness lurking under the surface. Maybe her father wouldn’t approve of her recent decisions, but he still would want her to live her life and not succumb to melancholy every time she remembered him. Happy memories. Think about happy memories. “Every birthday he gave me a bouquet of lilies. That was our thing. One night, I went out on a date and came home way before my curfew. I didn’t say anything, but he could see in my eyes I’d been crying. I felt embarrassed. My mother was working until late that Saturday in the beauty shop.” She grabbed a small decorative glass bowl and turned on the tap to pour some water and remove the shampoo from his hair. Then she added some minty conditioner and continued to massage his head.
“What happened?” he asked.
“The next day, I woke up and there was a vase filled with lilies on my nightstand. He must have left at night or early in the morning to buy those for me. It was his quiet way of cheering me up, saying he was there for me.”
“No wonder you have a great head on your shoulders.”
She could laugh at the irony—she’d agreed to screw him for a month for very wrong reasons. Since when did that make her remarkable in any way? She pursed her lips, deciding to keep the mood light. “Does this feel all right?” she asked, deepening the pressure on his scalp.
“Hmmm.”
She took that as a yes. “Maybe after this crazy month is over, you can visit me at the shop once in a while. You know, to make sure your hair is being washed properly,” she said, and a second later, bit her lower lip so hard, she swore she tasted blood. Idiot, idiot. She opened her mouth to take it all back, but only managed to let out a groan filled with regret. Shit.
“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”
Sweat broke on her forehead, and it had nothing to do with the warm water or the proximity to his body. “Forget it; that was a bad idea.” In her unadventurous and somewhat limited love life, she’d never really asked guys out or imposed relationship rules. She’d been happy to play along if the men were good guys who cared about her. And now, for some reason, the idea of parting from Marco upset her, made her frustrated and sad, and at the same time—
“No,” she said out loud.
He turned around until he faced her, his hair still mussed from her hands. “What?”
“I’m sorry. I was thinking if I had DVRed Game of Thrones, and I realized I forgot to do it,” she said, waving it off.
He flashed her a smile, but there was a flicker of regret in his eyes. She wondered what it meant, but he shook his head, maybe willing intrusive thoughts away. He cupped her cheeks, making her stare at him. “You’re adorable, Lily Jenkins.”
“Are you being condescending?”
“No. I mean it. I don’t think I can visit you at work, though, because one day I’ll see you and you’ll be with a boyfriend. A man who deserves you. A man who will bring you lilies.”
Why can’t you bring me lilies? The thought stabbed at her before she could shake it off. She hated herself for the strand of disappointment in her chest. “And you say that just like that?”
“I want to see you happy.”
“What about you? What would make you happy?”
His jaw clenched, a silent warning he really didn’t enjoy talking about the future—his or hers. “Happiness for me isn’t the same it is for most people. I…haven’t been given lilies, so I don’t know where to start. I like to know what to expect from people. I like to be in control, even if I miss out on other things. That’s how I operate.”
She made an effort to keep a neutral expression so he wouldn’t pick up on the nugget of frustration. “That sucks.”
He lifted his hand and caressed her cheek. His touch was like a miraculous cream on a wound. “It does. That’s why I’m focusing on what’s bringing me joy right now…and that’s you,” he said hoarsely. A warm expression washed over his face, the heat of his gaze burning her flesh. “You’re vibrant, real, honest.”
Her breath caught in her throat, and she opened her mouth but hesitated. Why did he have this delicious quality of making her feel so unique? And why, even with all those compliments he gave her, did he still believe they couldn’t have a future? A real one?
He pulled her to him, and she sat on him, her legs to his sides. “Come here. It’s been far too long since I was last inside you.”