For a second, I find myself wondering what it looks like. What it would feel like in my palm. Or more importantly, buried deep inside me. Would it hurt? Of course, it probably would. But it would also feel good, I think. A good hurt.

My face flames with heat, and I shake my head again, silently cursing myself. Judge doesn’t acknowledge my strange behavior. He continues to wash me, not shying away from any of the areas on my body. When his palm glides down between my thighs, I almost buckle in his arms, and I don’t know why. But the gentle caress of his fingers in such an intimate place is doing strange things to me. Things that shouldn’t be happening. If Santiago ever found out he even did this much, my brother would murder him.

Still, it gives me a secret thrill I can’t deny. We might hate each other, but there’s no arguing a part of him wants me too. And I find myself wondering if a part of me wants him? Or am I just reaching for comfort in a terrible situation, even if it is from my captor?

That question is laid to rest when he releases me momentarily to let me rinse. When I’m done, he moves on to shampooing my hair, which is a whole other sensory experience. My hair is long and thick, but he takes his time working through each strand, even pausing to massage my scalp when he notices the way it gives me goose bumps.

He rinses me again, and, to be extra thorough, washes my body one more time. I’m grateful for that small gesture because I would have done the same. But I’m also slightly relieved that it’s not over yet.

God, there is seriously something wrong with me. By the time he releases me, my legs feel like jelly, and I can barely stand.

“Go dry yourself off,” he says. “I’ll be out to join you in a minute.”

I do as he bids, stepping out to towel off, lingering in the bathroom for far too long. I’m curious if he’ll undress completely, and I can admit that maybe a part of me wants to get a glimpse. Just to see what he’s packing down there. To see the weapon between his thighs.

Judge turns away and doesn’t acknowledge that he knows I’m still there. He yanks off his briefs and tosses them onto the wet floor, then turns the spray to cold. I freeze, unable to move as my eyes survey the perfect globes of his muscular ass.