Unleashed by the Defender (Brides of the Kindred #25) - Evangeline Anderson Page 0,22

it? She wondered what else had been done to him there and felt a surge of pity.

At last his face and scalp were free of the black paint. To finish the bath, Imani had the big Kindred lean back and stick his feet out of the water. She noted, as she scrubbed, that he would probably wear a size fourteen or sixteen shoe—he was really just huge all over.

“There,” she said at last, throwing the sponge into the tub, which was now filled with floating strips and scraps of the shiny black paint. “All done.”

J’are shook his head.

“Not done.”

“Really?” Imani wiped her forehead with the back of her hand tiredly. “Do you have paint someplace else?”

“Not done,” J’are insisted. Then he stood up in the tub, naked and dripping wet.

Imani bit her lip.

“Well…all right,” she said.

Picking up the sponge again, she stood and went around to wash his lower back, where there were still a few patches of paint she had missed earlier. The markings he had called his k’dra extended all the way down to the top of his buttocks, she saw.

“There—I think I got all the paint off now,” she told him at last.

J’are twisted halfway around to frown at her.

“Wash more,” he said. “Wash everywhere.”

“What…you mean here?” Imani took a tentative swipe with the sponge over his round, firm ass which didn’t have any paint on it at all. This seemed to make J’are happy, however because he nodded.

“Keep washing.”

Bemused at the weirdness of actually giving her client a bath, Imani dipped the sponge in the water and washed some more, running it over the big Kindred’s muscular ass and the backs of his upper thighs until J’are seemed satisfied.

“There, finished,” she said and was about to throw the sponge in the water when J’are turned around to face her.

“Not done,” he said, frowning and pointed between his legs. “Not done—wash everywhere.”

“What?” Imani stared at the shaft between his muscular thighs. Even only half hard, it was absolutely huge.

He really is like one of the stallions I used to groom back at the farm, she thought and shook her head.

“No, J’are—not there,” she said firmly.

The big Nightwalker got a stubborn look on his face.

“You Claimed me,” he pointed out. “You wash me!”

“But I can’t…I shouldn’t…” Words failed Imani. How could she explain to him in a way he would understand that she was just his attorney and that she had already done much more for him than was strictly ethical? How could she make him understand that she really shouldn’t be washing him there?

“You wash me,” J’are said again, frowning. “Or you don’t Claim me.”

“I didn’t know that was part of the bargain!” Imani protested. But his pale green eyes were looking more and more upset and his fangs were beginning to show. She didn’t think he would bite her, but she didn’t want him to feel like she was rejecting him, either.

Telling herself this was a necessary action in a difficult situation, Imani finally gave in.

“All right,” she said, wringing out the sponge and getting some fresh water. “I’ll wash you everywhere.”

She reached for him but J’are flinched away at first contact with the sponge.

“Too rough!” he exclaimed, frowning. “Wash better.”

“With what?” Imani protested. She looked around for something—anything else—she could use but there was nothing. Not even a washcloth or a face cloth. What kind of fancy hotel didn’t provide a washcloth?

At last, in desperation, she scooped up a handful of bubbles and reached for his shaft.

J’are seemed to approve of this. He made a soft, humming growl in the back of his throat as she stroked up and down his shaft with the bubbles.

“You like that?” Imani asked him and her voice came out sounding strangely breathless. She found that she was no longer washing his shaft so much as just stroking it. It had gotten much harder and bigger now—so much so that she couldn’t fit her fingers all the way around it. God, how could he use something like this on anyone? How could any woman possibly accommodate such length and girth?

“Like…that,” J’are echoed her in a soft growl.

Looking up, Imani saw that his pale green eyes were half-lidded, like half-moons in his dark face. She saw desire in his gaze—desire and need and hunger…hunger for her.

Oh God, I should really stop now! This is getting to be too much!

But she didn’t stop. Instead, she found herself reaching between his thighs with her other hand to stroke the heavy sac hanging there.