Odd, how a year ago he’d suggested just that and ruined her joy for what had seemed like forever. Now she jokes so easily, and the sting he feels thinking about it is hidden by his face against the side of hers.
"I'm sorry to have denied you the opportunity," he murmurs against her chin as he steps over the side of the tub, leaning his shoulder into the wall as he sets her down. It's still wet from her own bath, and neither of them are fully undressed, so he just tugs at her nightdress.
Absolutely not. That she can move him at all in their bed is only because he humors her. Glancing down at his hands on her breasts, she reaches out with a cheeky smile to plant her hands on his chest. Ha.
He looks down at her hands, momentarily confused by the symmetry between them, and then chuckles under his breath. He looks her in the eyes with a matching smile.
"Now what do you think you'll do with those, my lady?"
"You're very handsome," she says, watching him with a smile. Rare for her to say it so plainly, but she's in a mood. He knows she adores his heart and his bravery, but she's also just a woman desperately attracted to his body, too.
"And you always have been." She fancied him the moment she saw him, and it's only gotten worse. She reaches for the red loofah (hers is blue, of course) that she bought for him and is unsure he even uses.
"I'm starting to think it was the smell that drew you in," he replies, shifting the angle of his head, the water bouncing off the back of his neck. He has most certainly never touched the loofah. "Even when I was narrow and thin, I came home smelling of morbols and their ilk."
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"I'll have to find a new man, I suppose."
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“I hope he isn’t bigger than I am.”
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"There would be the problem. No man can compare to you."
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"Oh. I was just about to carry you into the shower," she jokes.
He smells ripe.
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"Next time."
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Absolutely not. That she can move him at all in their bed is only because he humors her. Glancing down at his hands on her breasts, she reaches out with a cheeky smile to plant her hands on his chest. Ha.
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"Now what do you think you'll do with those, my lady?"
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"Well... these are my pillows, sometimes," she says. "But here? The possibilities are endless."
But she just squeezes them.
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"Oh, I'll touch all of you, sweaty or bloodied or covered in guts."
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Like the man can't do it himself.
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"I always hoped to be handsome to you," he replies.
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"Even when you stink."
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She smiles sweetly at him before lathering up the loofah with her body wash, some floral scented gel, and passing it over Clive's chest.
Her free hand brushes over his belly.
"You're far from narrow and thin these days."
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