26. Scarlet #2
“This is... unexpected.” I look up at him, trying to search for some kind of hidden meaning. “Beautiful, but unexpected.”
“Glad to know you think I have good taste.” He offers up a grin that perfectly straddles the line between cautious and cocky. “It might also be a tracker.”
“What the hell, Ellis. How?” I inspect the necklace with fresh eyes, turning it over in my hands. “This is all too much...”
“This is the bare fucking minimum,” he growls, sounding so damn certain, it almost sounds rational. But there is nothing rational about any of this.
“Don’t you get it? If it was up to me, I'd keep you chained to my side until the threat was neutralized. If anything, I'm being incredibly reasonable. Did I mention it also has a built-in panic button? It will alert me immediately upon activation.”
“I thought this kind of stuff only existed in, like, spy movies.”
“Surprise, they’re real.” The charming idiot does jazz hands. “Knowing you’re wearing it will bring me more comfort than I can adequately express. Please, Princess? Please wear it for me?”
I hold it between my thumb and index finger, softly rubbing the butterfly pendant. “Only because you asked so nicely.” I pass him the necklace and then gather my ponytail over my shoulder. “Help me put it on, please?”
He fumbles with the clasp before bringing the chain around my neck. His callused fingers skate along my skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
“There we go,” he whispers, his warm breath fanning over my skin before he presses the softest kiss ever to the crook of my neck.
“Thank you,” I say as he retreats. “For all of this... for everything.”
“You don’t need to thank me, Scarlet. Any decent—”
“Be so fucking real, Ellis. I can’t think of any other person on this earth that would go to the lengths you have to protect me. I...” I suck in a shuddering breath. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.” He rises to his full height, extending a hand my way. “Now, how about that bath?”
I slide my hand into his, allowing him to pull me up. “Yes, please.”
He guides me into his bathroom. “Strip, and I’ll fill the tub.”
“Aren’t you bossy?” I quip, toeing off my shoes. Shoes that will soon have GPS trackers in them, pinging my location at all times. The thought is as unsettling as it is comforting. A total mindfuck of a paradox.
“Only when I think you’ll fight me every step of the way.” He nudges the faucet then checks the temperature.
I finish undressing while he adds bubbles and a bath bomb. “You just have all of this stuff handy?”
“What?” He has the gall to look offended. “Men can’t enjoy a bath?”
“Of course you can.” I roll my eyes and cross my arms over my chest. “I was just surprised.”
“I’m full of surprises, Princess.” He tests the water one more time and hums his approval. “Plus, I gotta keep you on your toes, somehow.”
My mind wanders back to earlier, and I once again find myself wondering about his hobbies. “What do you do for fun?”
“Let’s get you in the tub, and I’ll tell you.
” He steps into my space and wraps an arm around my middle, guiding me as if I’m incapable of walking the few steps from the sink to the bath on my own.
I don’t complain though, because deep down, I like his pampering.
It’s been a really long time since anyone’s wanted to take care of me.
Ellis steadies me as I step into the tub, his lush lips curling into a satisfied grin as I groan in delight as the steaming hot water surrounds me. “This is perfect.”
He taps his temple. “I know you like your water uncomfortably hot.”
“Guilty.” I lean my head back against the little pillow he has suction cupped to the wall of the tub. “Now, about those hobbies.”
“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours. Quid pro quo, Princess.”
“Sure, sure.” I skim my fingers through the bubbles. “But you first.”
“Obviously TV. Running.”
I scrunch my nose. “Like, for fun?”
He nods. “Helps clear my mind. I enjoy cooking, which you also know. I whittle.”
“Like with wood?”
“Do you know of any other way?”
“Smartass.” I flick my fingers through the water, splashing him. “What do you whittle?”
“Mostly little animals. I can show you later.”
I sink deeper into the water. “I’d like that.”
“But first, let’s wash your hair.”
“Oh, you don’t have to—”
“I want to,” he says before leaning down and silencing me with a kiss so intense I forget what we were talking about.
“W-want to what?” I ask, half dazed and desperate for more.
“Wash your hair.” He laughs under his breath as he grabs a bottle of shampoo. The very same shampoo I use. “Take your hair down for me?”
I move as if in a trance, tugging my hair tie out before sliding down and dunking my head into the water.
He pops the cap and squirts a dollop into his palms, rubbing them into a foamy lather, before massaging the suds into my scalp.
“This... is... divine,” I groan in delight, literally curling my toes as he works his talented fingers through my hair.
“Yeah?” He sounds smug, like he knows exactly how good it feels. “Glad you think so.”
“You don’t have to sound so cocky.”
“Is that how you think I sound?” he asks, running conditioner through the ends of my hair.
“Obviously.”
“You’re wrong.” He twists my hair into bun and clips it in place. “You’re mistaking pride for cockiness. I’m proud I can take care of you. That I can bring you pleasure.”
My heart beats wildly in my chest. “Who in the hell are you?” I ask, mildly bewildered. He’s not an asshole, a fuckboy, or any other mean things I’ve thought about him over the years. He’s kind, caring, and outrageously perceptive.
“I’m Ellis fucking Wilder, baby girl.”
“Oh my god.” I burst out laughing. “You’re so cheesy.”
“Don’t act like you don’t love it.” He grabs a bottle of body wash, the very same kind I use, and flips open the top. “Because we both know you do.”
“Yeah,” I say softly, almost as if I’m confessing something. “I really do.”
“Stand for me.” His words hit me like a command, and I rise from the water, his eyes roving over every inch of me.
I feel my cheeks heat, but I’m chalking it up to the warm water, and not the way he’s looking at me like I’m something precious.
“Are you going to wash me or just stare?” I sass, fighting off the urge to shiver as the air cools my damp skin.
“Honestly, I might just fucking stare.” He walks forward on his knees until his legs are flush with the front of the tub. “You’re...” he swallows roughly. “A fucking goddess.”
“Ellis.” My hand trembles as I reach for him, curling my fingers into his hair. “Please.”
“Please what?” he asks, his voice rough as he stares up at me reverently.
“Put your hands on me.” I tighten my grip on his hair and tug his face closer. “Put your mouth on me. Make me forget all about this day... about anything other than you.”
“Are you sure?” He licks his lips.
I swear, my knees go weak as I tug on his hair again, and he falls forward.
“Shit, Princess,” he rumbles, pitching forward over the edge of the tub. He manages to catch himself just short of falling in, but he’s close enough that I can feel his warm breath fan across my lower belly.