“No shampoo?”
“This isn’t a spa, Ginger Snap,” he retorted.
I glared at him as he smirked. Gods, I wanted to smack him. I clutched the bar of soap, and as I tried to reach my head, the soap slipped out of my grasp and fell to the ground.
“Haven’t you heard you aren’t supposed to drop soap in prison?” he teased as I went to bend down. I sprang my body up before I was able to reach the soap, and when I met him with wide eyes, he busted out laughing.
“You are a piece of shit,” I spat.
“I was just teasing. Have a sense of humor.” The bastard smirkedagain.
I reached down, making sure to bend my ass away from him, and tried once more to bring it to my head.
I groaned. This was going to be impossible.
“Might need my help with that, too.”
“Why would you bother helping?” I muttered.
He crossed his arms. “I can’t stand smelling your stench,” he replied.
I scowled at him for a few seconds, then sighed as I handed over the bar of soap. Roland was no longer wearing his full armor, just a grey long-sleeved tunic, brown trousers, and boots. It was clear the soldiers were able to shower first, as he looked and smelled clean. With his sleeves pulled up to his elbows, exposing skin as tan as Silas's, he began to lather the soap in his hands before setting the bar down and motioning for me to turn around.
Hesitantly, I obeyed.
Roland wasn’t as tall as Silas, who was around 6'3". He was probably a couple of inches shorter, but he still towered over me. He began massaging my scalp with his fingertips, and I tensed as chills spread across my body. I let out a deep exhale.
This feels good.
Roland actually put in a decent effort, making sure to scrub my head nicely. He ordered me to rinse it once before washing my hair again with more fresh soap.
“I can help with your body, too,” he said cautiously as he massaged my head. “I’ll avoid any areas you wish.”
I angled my head towards him, and he pulled his hands back, still covered in soap. He didn’t look smug or cruel. He looked sincere. It was confusing.
I turned my head away, and he resumed washing my hair. “Very well,” I mumbled.
After I rinsed my hair a second time and Roland rinsed the suds off of his hands, my heart quickened as I prepared for the next part.
He looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “Well?”
I took in a breath. “Not my breasts, crotch, or ass,” I said as plainly as I could.
He gave another half-smile and began to lather his hand once more. “I’ll start with your back.”
He began at my shoulders, and I tensed as he touched me, his grip firm but not painful. No, it feltgood. He wasn’t just lightly running his hands along my shoulders; he was massaging them, and it felt amazing.
“What are you doing?” I breathed, beginning to feel pressure in between my thighs.
What the fuck, Lena?
“I assume your shoulders hurt from sleeping on the ground. I know mine sure as hell do.”
He continued kneading my shoulders, and a small moan left my lips, causing me to stiffen. Roland let out a small laugh.
“N-no more massaging. Let’s just get this over with.” I blushed, and I was grateful I wasn’t facing him. Being touch-deprived for so long had apparently messed with my head.
“Whatever you wish, Ginger Snap.”
