“I should have checked the water first.” He keeps one hand on my hip and reaches around me. The splash of water tells me he’s checking it. “It’s still pretty warm. You might not want it very hot anyway. Ready?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He lifts me by the hips and sets me in the tub. “I’ve got you. Sit on your bottom, Baby girl.”
I lower onto my butt and grab the sides of the tub to steady myself. Keeping my eyes closed makes me feel disoriented.
“Can you tip your head back so I can pour water over your hair, Little one?”
I squeeze my eyes tighter as I do what he asked.
“Good girl.” He wets my hair and then starts gently massaging shampoo into it.
It smells so good. “Is that my shampoo?”
He chuckles. “I don’t know if it’s the same brand, but I’ve smelled lavender on you since I met you, so I bought it, assuming you liked it.”
I purse my lips to keep from crying again. He did arrange all of this for me specifically. Holy shit.
While he massages my scalp, he asks, “Were you at Surrender earlier tonight, Simone?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Is there any chance your attacker followed you home?”
I frown. “I don’t… I don’t know. I guess he could have. I didn’t think of that.” I shudder. What if he did? What if he’s a member of Surrender? I didn’t recognize him, but I don’t know every club member. Not even close to all of them. I don’t pay any attention to anyone who isn’t a Daddy Dom.
“It’s not super likely, but just in case, I’m going to call Roman tomorrow and see if he recognizes the description you gave the police. Did they say anything about doing a sketch?”
“She said someone could do it in the morning if I felt up to it.”
“I have her card. I’ll call her.”
“I didn’t even get her name,” I mumble.
“It was Davidson. Carol Davidson. I got it, baby.”
Thank goodness one of us was paying attention. I have a lot to be thankful for, including the fact that this amazing man is currently massaging my scalp so well that I’m about to moan.
Chapter 5
Camden
* * *
It’s taking every ounce of self-control for me not to react to the multiple bruises and scrapes on my girl’s perfect body. The only saving grace is that my anger is keeping me from drooling over her.
I’ve imagined what she might look like naked thousands of times, but she’s even better in person than I could ever conjure up. Fuck me. She’s perfection.
The bruises will heal. The scabs will go away. Nothing is broken. I know she’s not going to want to see herself for a while. Yes, I’m angry as fuck, but damn, she’s sexy. I can overlook the temporary marks that asshole put on her skin.
I take my time washing her hair, mostly because it seems to be calming her. She’s moaning softly. I’m glad no part of her scalp hurts. He probably pulled her hair, but she’s not wincing, so I’m grateful for that one small blessing.
I put conditioner on her hair next and then grab a lavender loofah and pour some body soap on it. She’s shivering. She might be nervous, but also, the water is getting chilly, so I let some of it out and turn it back on.
I start on her back and arms before moving to her front. She takes my breath away. I’m glad she’s not looking at me because I’m gritting my teeth. Her breasts are fantastic. Full and high. They’re also bruised. He grabbed them. There are blue fingerprints all around the globes.
I’m not ordinarily a violent person, but I’m feeling murderous now. Fuck whoever thought he had a right to grab my woman and hurt her. I know I’m going to find bruises on her inner thighs, too, because I heard the officer asking her to spread her legs to take pictures.
