He held out his hand. "What?" she said. "Put your head in the sink," he said. "I'll do it." "Why?" "Because it'll be hard for you to know if the soap's out. It'll be faster and easier if I just do it for you." She picked up the towel he'd laid out on the short counter, pressed it against her face and bent at the waist, dipping her head in the warm water. She could feel him use a cup to wet her hair, then begin to gently lather it. Those big calloused hands were slow and gentle, his fingertips kneading her scalp in a fabulous massage. She enjoyed it with her eyes closed, trying not to moan in pleasure.
( Robyn Carr )
[ A Virgin River Christmas ]
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