“This is absolutely mortifying.” My cheeks burned. “I didn’t think you’d have to do this, I’m sorry.”
Elliot didn’t answer nor did he drop his eyes once as he removed my shorts and knickers. He grabbed my top from the ground and then placed my clothes on the far side of the room. When he came back, he put his hands on my waist and said, “Turn the water on.”
“No,” I gasped. “You’ll get soaked.”
“I’ll get a little wet.” He shrugged. “I’ll angle myself away from it as best I can.”
And then he could catch a chill and get sick.
“Or you could just take off your clothes, and that way they won’t get wet?”
Elliot’s eyes locked on mine, and he didn’t blink. I heard how my words sounded, and my cheeks continued to burn. I was making a fool of myself.
“I mean down to your boxer briefs, not na-naked,” I stammered. “I’m not trying to get you naked, I just don’t want you to get all wet and—”
“Noah,” Elliot interrupted with a slow smile. “I know what you meant.”
“I’m sorry.” I looked at my hand on his arm. “This is harder than I thought it would be.”
I wasn’t talking about showering, and I think Elliot knew that.
“I’ll take off my top and jeans.” He helped me lower myself back down on to the seat. “Don’t move.”
He removed his clothes slowly, and I knew he didn’t mean it like this, but Christ, it was like a slow striptease. I swallowed when his torso was exposed. He was so physically fit it was ridiculous; he was incredibly sexy. I always thought he fit the description of a Greek god – I remember being proud that I had someone as gorgeous as him on my arm.
I looked down at my naked body, and humiliation scalded my cheeks. He’d been with me when I was healthy and slim and didn’t have a gut that could rival Buddha’s.
Elliot was down to his boxer briefs and didn’t look below my neckline as he approached me, but I didn’t have that restraint. My eyes lowered to his chest as he helped me back to my feet, and I couldn’t stop myself from lifting my arm and brushing my fingers over the hair on his skin. It was a surprise to see him with chest hair because he normally waxed or shaved it . . . then I remembered why. He knew I loved to sleep with my head on his chest but his chest hair tickled my face, so he’d removed it . . . for me.
I guess since we weren’t together, he didn’t have a reason to remove it any more.
“Noah,” he said, his voice strained.
I didn’t look up at him, I was in a trance staring at the body I was once so familiar with. He had four new scars on his torso – not big ones, just a few lines. I ran my fingertips over each of them.
“What happened?”
“Little knocks I picked up on a few watches over the years, nothin’ major.”
Elliot was breathing heavily and his body was so incredibly tense that his veins stood out in his arms. My eyes dropped lower and I gasped when I saw he had an erection. The bulge was straining against the fabric of his underwear.
“I’m sorry.”
I looked up at him and found his cheeks burning with . . . shame?
I flinched. “Why? Are you embarrassed you have an erection for someone with a body like mine?”
I recoiled away from him, but his hold on me tightened.
“What?” he asked, his voice holding the hint of a warning. “What did ye just say?”
“Let me go.” I struggled. “I’ll shower myself—”
“What did ye mean?” he interrupted gruffly. “What d’ye mean, someone with a body like yours?”
I was mortified.
“Don’t pretend like you don’t know,” I said, lifting my chin. “I saw your eyes, you wouldn’t look below my face. I’m different than when we were together. I’m bigger.”
Elliot took a moment, then he cursed.
“I didn’t look at you because I didn’t want to make ye uncomfortable,” he stated. “I’m lookin’ at you now, and I’m still hard. So fucking hard. If I wasn’t physically attracted to ye, that wouldn’t happen.”
He was telling the truth – Elliot was never one for telling lies. He was always so forward about his thoughts and feelings; it was a trait I’d always admired. I hated liars, I hated when people chose not to be honest with a person, especially their partner. Elliot’s honesty was something I’d always valued.
“But . . . but . . . why would you looking at me naked make you uncomfortable?”
“Noah.” He exhaled a breath. “You’re married.”
The reminder was like a punch to my gut.
“I don’t know him.” I swallowed. “I know I’m his wife, I know it . . . but he isn’t in my heart like you are, Elliot.”
“Christ.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “You’re making this even harder.”
I didn’t want to tease or mislead Elliot, and I repeated his words in my head until I felt dizzy. I was married. Married to another man, and even though I didn’t remember a life with him, how I felt for Elliot was disrespectful to my husband. My behaviour at this moment was inexcusable.
“I miss you,” I said to him. “I miss your kisses, your touch, your arms around me, the feel of you inside of me. I hate that I’m married to another man . . . how can I be his wife when my heart beats for you?”
Elliot lowered his head and pressed his forehead against mine.
“I can’t imagine how much this hurts you, sweetheart. Ye look at me like you used to . . . I can see it in your eyes what ye feel for me. I won’t lie either, I’m happy you’re feeling the way ye are . . . but we have to be realistic, Noah. Ye could get your memories back tomorrow and any feelings
