Breathe You - C.R. Jane Page 0,65
get up!”
“No! Just leave me alone, Carter!” she yells back, turning her head to throw a hateful look my way.
“Oh, you’re angry at me? Good! Be angry, but at least taking a fucking shower as you do it.”
“Fuck you!” she yells, and a crack of a sinister smile unleashes from me.
Valentina isn’t prone to cursing. She’s never been. But once in a while, it comes out of her. Either by our influence all these years or by sheer anger. This is the latter. Anger I can deal with. It’s her pain that cripples my soul.
I walk over to her and pull back the covers of her bed in one fast swoop.
“Get up, Valentina.”
She rises up on her knees on the bed, her eyes gleaming with hatred.
“I said no!”
“Well I said yes!” I yell, grabbing her and throwing her over my shoulder.
I feel her fists hit my back as I walk her over to her en suite. She’s still hurling those punches at me as I turn on the showerhead and place her on the floor mat.
“Get in!”
“No!
Another evil smirk tugs on my lips as I pick her up and place us both under the spray of water. Clothes and all.
“I hate you!” she cries.
“Good. Hate me all you want. I don’t care,” I yell, shaking her shoulders.
She huffs, disdain still burning in her amber eyes. But I’ll take that emotion any day of the week and twice on Sunday if it finally destroys the sadness underneath.
Her oversized T-shirt begins to cling to her body from the spray of the water above us. I start to pull at the hem of her shirt, but she grabs my wrists, halting my next move.
“No.”
“I’ve seen you naked before, Valentina.”
“I said no. I can do it,” she replies, her temper simmering down.
“Fine, but I’m not leaving until you shower.”
She throws me another loathsome glare and pulls the large T-shirt off her body. She turns her back to me and puts herself right under the showerhead.
My cock—the fucking asshole—has the indecency to get hard, while my gaze only inflates it by trailing over her olive tone skin, her ass begging for me put my hands on her. But I don’t. I just keep still, getting my own clothes wet and not bothering to take them off.
She bends to grab the soap and starts washing her body. I lean as far away as I can, just watching her. My hands itch for my camera so I can record this image, but my memory will have to do.
After she’s cleaned her whole body, she picks up the shampoo.
“Wash my hair for me,” she asks, no longer a bite to her voice.
She hands me the bottle, spilling some of the shampoo onto my hands. I massage her scalp and watch her body relax. Valentina leans her head against my shoulder as I try to wash her hair to the best of my ability. It’s difficult this way, but the adrenaline that was pumping in her veins a few minutes ago has officially withered down. The way she melts into me shows that she no longer has enough strength to stand on her own.
After I’ve made sure her silky hair is clean, I rinse the shampoo off in quick haste and turn off the faucet. Her body is limp against mine, needing me to help her out of the shower. Wrapping her body in a fluffy towel once I’ve dried it, I pick her up in my arms and walk Valentina back into her room. If she had more energy in her, I’d comb her hair so it wouldn’t be an tangled mess later on, but her lids are already too heavy for her to keep them open.
I pull the duvet up over her shoulders and press a chaste kiss on her temple. Deciding it’s best to let her rest, on padded feet, I walk over to her door, but stop when I hear her voice once more.
“Thank you.”
It’s all she says before sleep takes her under to a place where I can only hope heartache can’t touch her.
Quaid
When Logan and I get back from the supermarket, Carter is sitting on the stairs, waiting for us. His black hair is wet, and he’s wearing one of Val’s dad’s sweatpants. I don’t ask what happened, but go to the kitchen instead with the paper bags I have in my grasp. I put everything away in exactly the spots I know Mr. E would have them. This used to be my