breathless, and I resist the urge to gawk. Funny how that after a week of travel, Aron still looks as glorious as ever and I'm like, entirely made of dirt.
Of course, then Aron unbelts his pants and shoves them down, kicking them across the floor, and my mouth goes dry. He's completely hairless and as perfectly sculpted on top as he is on bottom. I remember touching him—vaguely, so vaguely—but seeing him naked again makes me get all flustered. His cock is thick and long and brushes against his thigh, and his muscles flex with his movements. He's huge. Definitely a show-er not a grow-er. I watch as he moves toward the tub in a few powerful strides and with a flex of his too-perfect butt, seats himself in the tiny tub.
Damn. I blink repeatedly, trying to focus my thoughts while the slow-motion reel in my head plays back his casual stride to the tub. Over and over and over again.
Aron settles into the tub, shifting his big body and splashing the water everywhere. He splashes a handful over his skin, rubbing it and completely ignoring me. After a moment, he looks over his shoulder at me. "Well?"
"Well what?" I snap out of my dick-fueled trance.
"Aren't you going to wash me?"
Wash him? Is he serious? As I gape at his back, he casts another impatient look over his shoulder, his arms resting on the edges of the wooden tub and I realize that yes, he is serious indeed. I get that I'm his servant—of a sort—but this is the first time he's demanded I actually serve him.
Maybe he doesn't know how to wash himself, my brain chimes in.
Maybe he wants you to touch him, my other body parts chime in.
I feel a hot flutter in my belly. Even if it's innocent, it gives me a chance to touch him again, and I hate myself for wanting to do it…but I do.
So I shrug my dirty cloak off and pull one of the two pitchers of water near me as I sit behind his tub. I'm so close to him that I can see the beads of water on his shoulders. I swallow hard and wet a cloth, then lightly swipe it over his shoulders. "So…what did you think of all that downstairs?"
He grunts, which isn't much of an answer. "I think they were more interested in how to get between your thighs than what's going on in the land."
I drag the cloth over his shoulders and then rub the cake of soap over his skin, since I need to make it look like I'm actually washing him and not just drooling over his physique. "I thought they had some interesting things to say. I mean, some of it was garbage but that thing about another god being to the east?"
"Mm. It's not enough to go on. It could be Gental, like they said." He gives his head a shake, his hair playing over my hands. "I have no wish to travel for weeks only to say hello to Gental."
I mentally count back through the laundry list of gods that Omos made me memorize. "Gental is…the sea?"
"Family. Home. Hearth."
Ah. "Yeah, I guess he's not one of your closest buddies."
"We have nothing in common." He leans forward so I can dip lower with the washcloth. And of course, now I'm noticing how much his hips taper, and how there's two dimples at the base of his spine where his glorious bubble of a butt rises. Damn it, Aron. I wonder if he's going to want me to wash his front, and I squeeze my thighs together tightly because my body likes that idea more than it should. "It's a lead, though."
"We need more leads before we go in pursuit of one. Travel is not cheap. We'll need mounts. Guides. Supplies. Yshrem is inland and it will be a long journey."
"My favorite," I say dryly, and then run my hand over his soapy shoulders. Shit. Why did I just do that? I make sure to use the washcloth for the next swipe, because I'm an idiot who can't stop thinking about touching this guy. It's just because he's so damn pretty. It's certainly not his winning personality, that's for sure. "Okay, so tomorrow we wander around the city a bit more? Maybe find another inn to snoop around in?"
"It is as good a plan as any."
I continue to swipe the cloth over his shoulders and back, doing my best not to pay attention