Chapter 25
PAMPER SESSION
Taylor
Taylor felt like a coiled spring after finding the place in the woods, but Isla had completely killed his buzz by insisting they’d have to go about it the right way.
Get a warrant, work out logistics, speak to surveillance.
Blah, blah, blah. All the shit that sounded far too sergeanty for Taylor’s liking.
He sighed as he lifted a cucumber slice from one of his eyes, the minty face mask the girls had slathered over his cheeks beginning to itch.
For some reason, when he’d returned to the pack house that afternoon, they’d decided that both he and Johnny needed a pamper session, and he’d been handed a white robe and a hair-band when he walked through the front door.
Johnny had already been laid out on the sofa with whale music blasting from the CD player, and a towel around his head with Gabriella screaming at him, “Relax! This is relaxing!”
Johnny did not look relaxed.
“Damn, this is some good pudding,” Taylor sighed, digging a spoon into the glass pot Maman had handed to him partway through having his nails painted.
Maman chuckled as she hovered in the doorway. “It has crushed soybeans for creaminess and pears for your sweet tooth. Both are excellent for digestion.”
Taylor took another spoonful from the jar and shoved it into his mouth. “Bloody delicious.”
“How long are we going to have to stay like this?” Johnny complained, placing his own half-eaten jar on the coffee table. He’d taken off his cucumber eye circles ages ago, and Taylor may have accidentally eaten them.
Gabriella scowled as she yanked Johnny’s foot and rested it across her knee. “Stop moving,” she said, repositioning the foam toe separator as she tried to paint his toenails the most disgusting shade of bile green.
Johnny grumbled, wiggling his foot and running the risk of turning his sister’s impatience absolutely nuclear. Clementine was more compassionate, and Taylor sighed with contentment as she gently slathered some cream across his hands.
“Drink, sir?” she said, holding up a glass of apple and blackberry squash.
Taylor hummed and sucked on the end of the curly straw. “Lovely, thanks.”
“I’d like a drink,” Johnny said, knocking Taylor’s knee. “In fact, I’d like whatever the hell this is to end as soon as possible.”
He waved his injured arm, which was now without its massive bandage, and in its place was a plastic finger splint and a long compression sleeve covering half his hand and forearm.
Maman had taken him for his check-up that afternoon, which had apparently gone better than expected.
He was healing fast, and it had been a relief to see that most of the swelling had gone down across his face.
“Shut up and enjoy the spa,” Gabriella replied.
Johnny sighed. “Is this because I threw water in your hair?”
Gabriella scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Please. Payback for that will be slow and painful, and will come when you least expect it.”
Yep, Johnny was most definitely a dead man.
“We just wanted to do something nice for you,” Clementine said, repositioning Taylor’s hair-band as she rubbed small circles across his scalp. Man, those tiny fingers were like magic.
Johnny tutted. “I don’t believe that for one second.”
“It’s true,” Maman said, giggling as she pushed herself up from the archway. “In fact, girls, why don’t you fetch Marty and William in from the woods and we’ll make a start on dinner?”
Both girls groaned, because although a couple of days under the same roof wasn’t enough for them to accept William, at least they weren’t trying to actively kill him anymore. Gabriella couldn’t dump Johnny’s half-painted foot fast enough as she sidled up to Maman and walked into the kitchen.
“I saw that!” Johnny called as the three of them disappeared through the archway.
Taylor leant forward. “Saw what?”
“Maman just slipped both of them a tenner.”
“I did not!” Maman called, but there was laughter in her voice.
Taylor smirked as he peeled the cucumber off his other eye and ate it. “Shady behaviour aside, Gabby’s done an absolutely atrocious job on your nails,” he said, sliding off the sofa and onto his knees. Johnny eyed him as he picked up the discarded nail brush and propped his foot on his thigh.
“Jesus, did you want this colour?” Taylor asked.
Johnny sighed and let his head loll back against the sofa. “I’m beyond caring, Tay. Between the three-hour hospital appointment, whale music, moody kids and Papa’s singing I think I’ve gone colour-blind. I don’t know why we thought coming back to the pack house was a good idea.”
Taylor hummed, resting his cheek against Johnny’s smooth knee. He had bare legs beneath the robe, with only a tiny pair of tennis shorts poking out from beneath the hem.
“We can go home if you want.”
Johnny shook his head. “One more night. I want to make sure Manders doesn’t try anything stupid now he’s out.”
“Relax,” Taylor cooed, running his fingers along the length of Johnny’s calf. “I’m here. If he turns up I’ll sort it, won’t I?”
Johnny looked down at him, his serious expression falling away as he reached forward and fingered the plastic band in Taylor’s hair. “I’m sure he’ll take you seriously in a face mask and dressing gown. You look like a middle-aged woman.”
Taylor smirked, turning his head to nip Johnny’s wrist. “You take me seriously, don’t you?”
Johnny huffed out a laugh. “So seriously.” He hooked a finger around the hair-band, pulling it out and running his long fingers through Taylor’s hair.
“You look better,” Taylor whispered, turning his mouth into Johnny’s knee. He kissed it, enjoying the way Johnny’s calves twitched.
Johnny pushed Taylor’s hair back from his forehead. “I look harassed.”
“Mhm. Am I harassing you?” Taylor smiled, ghosting his mouth over Johnny’s inner thigh.
There was an immediate tremor of arousal across the bond as Johnny gripped his hair tighter. “What do you think?”
“I think I’m on my knees for you, JP.” Taylor let his fingers trail down Johnny’s legs, dipping into the curve of his ankle. “And I think you like it.”
Johnny’s black eyes were locked on Taylor’s mouth, watching as he sucked his bottom lip.
“Tay,” Johnny whispered, shifting his hips so his robe parted around the tenting in his shorts.
Taylor pushed up on his knees, letting his hands glide up Johnny’s thighs. He grinned, pressing his nose under the hem of his shorts, and inhaling the soft scent of arousal peaking in Johnny’s groin.
Someone cleared their throat by the kitchen door, and heat shot up Taylor’s neck as he yanked his head away. He picked up the paint bottle whilst Johnny threw the dressing gown back over his lap. Maman was standing there with a bemused expression.
“I-I was… er… finishing the nails,” Taylor stuttered.
Maman tipped her head, drumming her fingers idly across her elbow. “Uh-huh.” Her eyes trailed along the white smudges of face mask all along Johnny’s legs. “The kids have decided to camp in the woods tonight. Papa and I are going to join them.”
Johnny raised his eyebrows. “What a great idea.”
Maman nodded slowly, looking like she was about to say something more, but she just smiled, turned on her heel and marched back into the kitchen.
Taylor let out a breath. “Well, I for one fucking hate camping.”
Johnny laughed, nudging his chin with his big toe. “I don’t think the invitation was extended to us.”
“Thank God for that.”
The girls never returned to finish off their ‘pamper session,’ and after half an hour of shit TV Taylor was feeling so fidgety he’d taken to squeezing a hunk of Marty’s sparkly slime just to keep his hands busy.
His earlier sense of inner peace was slowly evaporating the longer he sat alone in Johnny’s presence, because he just wanted to touch him. Squeeze him. Bite him. Lick him. Pinch him. Scratch him. Feel the way his skin grew raised under his nails.
“Shower,” he suddenly announced, throwing the slime ball onto the coffee table and jumping up.
Johnny glanced at the slime, then at the kitchen door, smirking as he looked back up at Taylor. “I think the face mask needs longer to cure.”
Taylor growled, ripping off his dressing gown and throwing it over Johnny’s head. Johnny kicked and flailed as Taylor leant over him, grabbing a handful of the material and scrubbing at his face. “There’s your fucking face mask,” Taylor said, gripping Johnny’s elbow and dragging him up the stairs.
“Taylor!” He pawed at Taylor’s bare chest, laughing as he stumbled backwards.
“JP, I swear to God if you don’t get up those stairs right now I’m going to throw you over my shoulder.”
Johnny was still laughing as they tripped into the bedroom, and as Taylor pulled off his robe and threw it onto the floor. Shoving Johnny into the en suite, he growled “Stand there” and placed both of Johnny’s hands on the white porcelain sink before turning to the shower.
Cold water shot out from the old-fashioned copper head, the ancient farmhouse pipes clanging behind the olive green tiles. It sprayed across Taylor’s face and chest, making the face mask run into his mouth.
He stripped off his shorts, his dick hard against his hip as it sprang out, aching and attentive. Johnny glanced over his shoulder, running his eyes over Taylor’s body as he pulled towels and a washcloth from the airing cupboard.
Grinning, Johnny said, “Wow, this really is a nice sink.”
“Shut up,” Taylor snarled, pressing himself to Johnny’s back and tugging down his shorts. “Will you just shut up and fucking kiss me?”
Johnny was still grinning as he turned round and hooked an arm around Taylor’s neck. They smashed their lips together, Taylor’s blood pressure shooting through the fucking roof when Johnny’s tongue darted into his mouth.
“Better?” Johnny murmured, sucking Taylor’s bottom lip.