Her Melting Point

So Healthy It Shines

She yelped when his teeth sank into her shoulder.

He rasped out a sincere remorseful 'sorry' and kissed the sore spot.

"I'm sorry." He stroked the bite mark with his thumb. "I was relieved you kissed me, and I lost control."

"We've just had sex," Jackie pointed out. "Why wouldn't I kiss you?"

"You could've been done with me." Another light peck on her shoulder followed. "You feel very nice. And taste good too. It's rare for me. Let me know if I'm touching you too much."

She was quite certain that wouldn't happen. He felt 'very nice' too. She dropped her head back, offering him the other side of her throat.

"We don't have any more condoms," he said mournfully between licks and kisses. "Maybe we could do something in the shower after supper. If you're up for it."

***

She was, and they did.

***

Since they'd stumbled into the shower already very much 'in the mood,' she hadn't had time - or desire - to ponder the fact that she would have to confront his young athletic body when his perception wasn't distorted by arousal.

She was rinsing the evidence of their activities, when he wrapped around her from behind.

"Is this OK?"

"Yeah," she lied.

Maybe he wouldn't notice that she was sucking her stomach in.

"Will you be washing your hair?" he asked and nuzzled behind her ear.

"Do I need to?" she asked, tensing up. "It's always this mess. I've probably got the wrong shampoo, but I just can't figure it out." She bit her tongue. "Anyroad, yeah, I reckon I should. Do you want me to wait till you're out?"

"May I?"

He was already holding the bottle in his hand. Jackie's jaw slacked.

"You want to– wash my hair?"

"May I?" he asked again imploringly.

All she could do was to nod. He looked almost animated now, eagerly popping the lid open.

"Alright, bend down," he said.

The purple liquid poured into his hand.

"What?! Why?"

It was his turn to peer at her in bewilderment.

"How do you do it?" he asked.

A large drop of shampoo escaped his palm and plopped into the tub.

"It's curly," he said and glanced at her ginger mop. "You need to scrunch it."

"That's the first time I'm hearing about this," she blabbed and then folded at her waist. "What do you mean by 'scrunch?'"

She felt his strong fingers tangle into her wet hair. She only remembered that he'd had acupressure training when, after lathering the shampoo into her curls, he gently spread the conditioner and started massaging her scalp. She was sitting on the edge of the tub - and suddenly sloped forward. He supported her by her shoulder.

"Jackie?"

"You've got magical hands," she muttered.

"In what sense?"

Jackie laughed weakly. "In the sense that it's almost as good as sex."

He paused, and she had no strength to lift her face to check his reaction.

"Let's wash it off now." He sounded coarse. 

She didn't realise she'd been nodding off until he called her name, making her jerk.

"Yeah?" She rubbed her eyes. She simply couldn't keep them open. "Sorry, you've–" She couldn't find the right word. "It's like I'm– melting."

"I've washed you. Are you ready to go to bed?"

She nodded, her head heavy and foggy. He wrapped her into a bath sheet. She once again jolted out of her sleep when he sat down on the bed. She was cocooned in the towel, and he softly nudged her forward and proceeded to scrunch her hair, which apparently involved gathering it in a small towel, squishing it, and pushing it up. As much as she appreciated his efforts, she kept slumping into him, trying to curl into his warmth.

"All done," he said and manoeuvred her onto the pillow and under the duvet.

He pulled the bath sheet out, and she stretched with a content moan. And then she noticed that he was still sitting on the edge! Her eyes flew open, and she grabbed his forearm.

"You can join me!" she exclaimed - and he grinned and dove under the duvet as well. Jackie chortled, entertained. "Did you really think I'd kick you out after all this?"

"You can, if you don't fancy me here," he muttered, while, for the lack of a better word, snuggling into her and making happy chuff-like noises. "But please, let me stay. It might work."

His arms around her waist, he pushed his nose into her sternum.

"Don't suffocate there," she grumbled, already half-asleep.

He snorted, and his hand migrated on her backside. The last sensation she was aware of, before she drifted away, was his silky curls running between her fingers.