Titus: Book Two of the Cantrell Brothers Series

Chapter Eighteen

“Fuck,” Titus cursed, icy cold spray beating against his back in unrelenting fists.

It hurt. God, did it hurt, but anything was better than not being able to see straight because he was too unfocused around her – too wanting when they were just alone. But the freezing water help. It washed away his sweat, while at the same time pressing down this need that he knew would never dissipate.

It sluiced over his aching shoulders, stiff back, and tired legs, unforgiving in a way that Titus needed. It knocked sense into him, telling him in its harsh frost-like talk that this was Anna and that he needed to give her time. She needed time, and he needed it to think of something more efficient, more concrete that would finally just get her to fall.

A hurried knock on the door had him almost slipping on the smooth, bleached white floor of the shower stall. He turned the shower off quickly and covered his lower half with a cotton towel from the sleek, metal rack.

“What?” he asked, opening up the bathroom door with the towel barely above his hips.

Instead of answering, she barged right in and immediately rushed to the toilet where she emptied out the contents of her stomach into the clean bowl. Everything inside of him cried out to her, wanting it all to stop but knowing from past experience that he couldn't do anything about the morning sickness.

“You're okay. You're okay,” he said softly, managing to pull her hair back with his only free hand.

Anna nodded her head, not even opening her mouth before she went to the sink and brushed her teeth three times. “You know,” she said, actual smiling with recently polished teeth, “I read that it's a good sign because-”

“It's associated with a reduced risk of miscarriage and a greater chance that the pregnancy will have a healthy outcome,” he finished, smiling along with her. It never failed to amaze them that she could turn a bad situation – like yacking it up into a toilet bowl – into a good one with smiles and good humor.

“And it'll go away by week sixteen, and right now, I just want to go walk on the beach!” she rambled on and on, looking well-rested.

“Then we'll go to the beach,” he said simply and immediately turned his back.

The last time they had gone down to the pool had been their very first night. Anna had clutched one of the hotel towels to her chest like a shield, casting him nervous glances the entire walk to the pool. She had pointed to something in one of the palm trees, but he had caught on and turned around just in time to see her wearing the skimpiest swimsuit he had ever laid eyes on.

Titus cleared his throat, going through his side of the dresser until he found the appropriate clothing. “I'm going to get dressed now.”

“Oh,” Anna said from behind, “I'm just gonna take a shower.”

After hearing the door close, he donned a pair of cargo shorts and a light blue striped shirt. His body was completely dry by the time he heard the shower start. The picture of Anna's naked body, wet under hot water, had him hardening once more. Distraction. He needed a distraction.

Falling back onto the plush bed, Titus turned on the TV just loud enough to drown out the sound of her shower. The Shawshank Redemption was on, its brilliant plot line soon capturing him until he felt himself relaxing into the luxurious pillows that eased his back.

Images of Anna and her lithe, mouthwatering body were almost fully replaced by Morgan Freeman and Tim Robbins. Almost. By the time the bathroom door opened and steam poured out, he was feeling in control once more, even as he was met with the beautiful sight that was just her.