Chapter 139.

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Hardin doesn't even wince as I run the damp towel over his wounds. I dip the towel back into the sink full of water, attempting to dilute the blood from the white fabric.

He looks up at me as I stand over him. He is seated on the edge of the bathtub and I stand between his legs. He holds his hands up once more.

"We need to get something to put on your thumb." I tell him as I twist the towel to wring out the excess water.

"It will be fine." He says.

"No, look how deep it is. The skin is already purely scar tissue and you just keep tearing it back open." I scold him.

He doesn't say anything, he just studies my face.

"What?" I ask him.

I drain the pink water and wait for him to respond.

"Nothing.." He lies.

"Tell me."

"I just can't believe you put up with my shit." He says.

"Me either." I smile.

"It's a lot of shit to put up with."

"Yea it is.." I say and watch as a frown takes over his face.

"It's worth it though." I add, meaning it.

He smiles and I bring my hand to his face, running the pad of my thumb over the pit of his dimple.

"Sure it is." His smile grows.

"I need a shower." He says and stands up.

He removes his shirt before leaning down to turn the shower faucet.

"I'll be in the room then." I tell him.

"Wait.. why? Take one with me?"

"Your mother is in the other room." I explain quietly.

"So.. it's only a shower. Please?"

I can not refuse him, he knows this. The smirk on his face as I sigh in defeat proves it.

"Unzip me?" I request and turn my back to him.

I lift my hair into my hands and his fingers find the zipper immediately. The black fabric falls to the floor and I step out of it.

"I like that dress." He tells me and removes his pants and boxers.

I try not to stare at his naked body as I slide the straps of my bra down my arms. When I am completely naked Hardin steps into the shower, holding his hand out for me. His eyes rake down my body and stop at my thighs with a scowl.

"What?" I try to cover myself with my arms.

"The blood. It's on you." He gestures to the faint marks of dried blood.

"It's fine." I grab the loofa and rub it against my skin.

"Let me." He takes it from me and covers it with soap.

Hardin bends down to his knees and I can't help the goose bumps that form on my skin at the sight of him on his knees in front of me. The loofa moves up and my thighs, slowly circling around. Only Hardin can make washing his blood off of me feel this intimate. He has a direct line to my hormones. He brings his face close to my skin and I try not to squirm as his lips touch my left hip.

He keeps one of his hands wrapped around the back of my thigh, holding me in place as he does the same to the right.

"Hand me the shower head." He says, breaking me from my perverted thoughts.

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