The sensation of Harper combing through Oliver's damp hair was unexpected, intimate, and sent a pleasant warmth spreading through his chest that had nothing to do with the hot water. "Careful now," he warned playfully, his voice dropping to a husky murmur. "Keep that up and I might fall asleep right here in the shower." He remained still under her touch, allowing her to explore the texture of his hair as it became softer under her ministration. One of his hands came up to rest on her waist possessively while the other braced against the tile wall for balance. "You are getting really good at this," he complimented sincerely. "Maybe I should hire you as my personal stylist instead of letting you sit behind a desk all day." His blue eyes stayed closed as he savoured the feeling of her fingers combing through his usually untamed locks.
"I have actually never washed someone else's hair before," Harper admitted softly, her one hand leaving his hair to reach for the shampoo on the shelf. "But I guess I could give it a try." Oliver's lips curved into a soft smile at her admission, his blue eyes opening to watch her prepare to tackle his hair for the first time. The vulnerability in her voice was endearing, reminding him of how different this relationship felt compared to his previous experiences. "Just be gentle with me," he teased lightly, turning to give her better access to his head. "I am not used to having someone else handle my hair. My barber usually just yells at me to sit still." Harper giggles lightly at the image of him wiggling around in a barber's chair like a child. Her leaned forward slightly as she began lathering shampoo between her palms. The trust implicit in allowing her this intimate task was not lost on him; it felt significant in a way he had not anticipated. "Take your time," he added quietly, closing his eyes again to fully surrender to the experience. "I don't have any meeting tomorrow morning anyway. We can take as long as you want in here."
Harper giggled again. "I am not going to take all night washing your hair," she said lightly and applied the shampoo to his hair and gently massaged it in. Oliver's body visibly relaxes under her gentle touch, a content sigh escaping his lips as the warm water and shampoo begin to work through his thick hair. His head lolls slightly to the side, giving her better access as she massages his scalp with practiced movements. "Fuck, that feels amazing," he admits freely, his voice carrying notes of genuine relaxation. "You are a natural at this. Where did you learn to do that?" The steam swirls around them both as the shower continues its steady rhythm, creating an intimate sanctuary where their voices echo softly against the tile walls. Oliver's hand remains loosely at his sides, but his posture suggests complete surrender to the sensation of her fingers working through his hair. "I could get used to this," he murmurs half-jokingly, eyes remaining closed in blissful submission. "Maybe I should start paying you extra for personal grooming services.
"Alright, all done," Harper said quickly as she removed her hands from Oliver's hair. "Go ahead and rinse off." Oliver chuckles softly at her abrupt announcement, shaking his head slightly as water droplets flew from his hair. "Efficient as always," he remarked with a hint of amusement in his voice. He turned to face the direct stream of water, tilting his head back and letting the hot spray rinse away the suds. Water cascaded down his muscular back and broad shoulders, creating rivulets over his defined abs. "Much better," he declared once his hair was clean, running a hand through it to push it back from his forehead. "You have magical hands, you know that? Best hair wash I have ever had." His icy blue eyes met hers again, holding a warm appreciation that softened the usual seriousness in his gaze. The steam continued to swirl around them both as he stepped closer again. "So, what is next on this agenda of yours?" he asked playfully, reaching out to trail a finger down her arm.
"I was wondering that myself," Harper said and turned the shower faucet, stopping the rapid flow of water. "It is still early. We could watch something," she suggested as she stepped out and reached for one of the black towels hanging against the wall. Oliver followed her out of the shower, stepping onto a smooth black mat just outside the shower, grabbing a second towel and drying himself off briskly, his movement efficient but not rushed. His blue eyes never left her from as she wrapped herself in the black towel, appreciating the way it clung to her curves. "Something to watch?" he repeated thoughtfully, running a hand through his damp hair. "What genre are we thinking here? Action movie? Horror flick? Or maybe a drama so I can pretend to keep track of all the social entanglement while you fall asleep on my shoulder?" he stepped closer, his bare chest glistening with residual wated droplets under the bathroom lighting. The towel was slung low around his hips, revealing the tantalizing V-shape of muscle leading downward. "I am open to suggestions," he added with a casual shrug that stretched his pecs nicely. "Just warn me if it is one of those romantic comedies with terrible dialogue. My tolerance for cheesy pick-up lines is extremely low."
"Hmmm," Harper said thoughtfully as she grabbed a smaller towel to dry off her hair. "How about something with action and spies?" she asked as she walked into her bedroom to stand in front of her wardrobe. Oliver's blue eyes lit up at her suggestion, a genuine smile replacing his usual stoic expression. "Spies? Now you are speaking my language," he said enthusiastically, following her into the bedroom with his towel still draped around his waist. He leaned against another wardrobe while she rummaged through her wardrobe, enjoying the view of her towel-clad figure moving around the room.