Without removing her gaze from his—and trying very hard not to think about the fact that she was standing in front of the house where she lived with...her parents—she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her red shorts, and, in one motion, pulled them down around her ankles. She heard him take a sharp breath as she did so and thought, I’ve shocked him—good. As she stepped out of her shorts she pulled her t-shirt over her head, dropping it on the ground beside them. Then, she stood, feet. Her eyes closed, not that he ever got water or shampoo in her face. He loved washing her hair, not just for the pleasure that it clearly gave her but because he loved the feel of her hair sliding through his hand. Making her happy made him happy, content even. He felt her hair fall into his lap, heavy enough now to fall below the water line and come to rest softly against him, soaked by the hot water cascading over it. Pouring half a palm full of shampoo into his big hands, Henry gently scooped. More

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