Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
JESSE
W e finished dinner, and I helped with dishes, not that there were many. Casey was one of those people who cleaned as she went, so there was never much to do later.
I followed her to her side, going through the closet and leaving the doors all open.
“Might as well now,” I murmured. “You can shut them if you get mad at me again.”
“Easy fix to that,” she replied. “Don’t be an asshole.”
I had to laugh. “Easier said than done at times.”
I stopped at the entrance to her living room. There were a few small piles of clothing on the sofa. Shoes, hats, and scarves. She pushed me into her chair and handed me the photo album. “Look.”
I opened the cover, instantly recognizing the dress Casey had worn earlier, but not the vixen in the photo. “That’s Lou?” I asked. “Wow. She was a stunner.”
“I know, right? And did you know her full name was Luella Francis? She hated it and liked Lou. Gerard called her Lulu in his letters.” She sighed. “Lulu, my love, usually.”
“I did, actually. I found out when her will was read. I admit I always assumed it was Louise.”
“I did too. Sims never said her full name to me, and I never read the will. It hurt too much. But I know now. I think Luella is pretty.”
“It is,” I agreed, flipping the pages slowly.
Casey hung over my shoulder, pointing out things and, every so often, stood and held up an article of clothing Lou was wearing in the photographs.
One in particular caught my eye as she showed it to me.
Pretty and floaty, it was a pale yellow with flowers embroidered on it in gold.
“She married him in this,” Casey said, running her hand down the fabric. “It’s pure silk.”
“I’m shocked they’ve survived.”
“She had them well wrapped and in sealed bags. And, until she died, in the house.”
“If I had known, I would have kept them there,” I admitted. “I’m glad you found them before they got damp or ruined.”
She smiled, still holding the dress.
“You would look beautiful in that.”
She shook her head. “I doubt I would ever have an occasion to wear it. I ordered some more bags to store it in. I might donate it to a museum or something.”
“You should keep it for a while.”
“I will.” She pulled out a pair of short plaid pants with a wide grin. “These pedal pushers are awesome. I am going to try them on later.”
“What about the shoes?”
She shook her head. “Lou wore an eight and a half. I take a six. The leather hasn’t held up as well as the clothing. It’s dried out badly. And I can’t wear heels.” She showed me one to demonstrate.
“I can’t imagine the Lou I knew in any of these clothes.”
“They were part of a different life for her,” Casey murmured as she carefully refolded the dress.
“I’m glad we have pictures,” I mused.
“I know. I want to get some blown up.”
“That’s a great idea.”
“This one, for sure.” She handed me one of Lou and a man. I studied it. “The famous Gerard, I assume?”
Casey nodded, taking it from me. “He’s looking at her with so much love, and she looks so happy. See the dress? It’s their wedding day.”
“She does look happy. I know one of the guys at the station does photography as a hobby. I’ll ask him about having digital replacements done.”
She beamed at me. “Thank you.”
I smiled and touched her cheek. “Anything, Pixie. Anything for you.”
She leaned her face into my touch, making me feel warm. “We’ll check out the box of photographs,” I informed her, then yawned and chuckled. “Tomorrow.” I yawned again. “Sorry. Long day.”
“Let’s go to bed. You can read the journal and letters tomorrow.”
“Great.”
“Okay.”
We climbed the steps at my place, no questions asked about where she would be sleeping. I pulled my shirt off over my head and grimaced. “I need a soak.”
She looked around. “You have a hot tub hidden around here?”
I laughed, shaking my head. “I plan on one out back. But for now, I have a tub in the guest room bath.”
“You have a tub?”
I held out my hand, and she let me pull her across the hall and into the other bathroom. She clapped her hands in glee. “Oh my God, it’s an old claw-foot tub!”
“Original to the house. Long and deep—great when my muscles are sore.”
She nudged me. “You’re a bubble bath guy, aren’t you?”
“Never had one,” I confessed. “Hot water and my rubber ducky, and I’m good.”
She laughed gaily. “Well, get in and soak. It’ll do you good.”
“You wanna join me, Pixie?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
I turned on the water, plugging the drain, letting the tub fill. It was a good size—plenty of room for the two of us, given how tiny she was. Casey disappeared, returning clutching a bottle. “I haven’t had a bath for so long, but I have bubbles.”
“Oh, ah…”
She grinned. “Not fruity. Smell.”
I inhaled and was pleasantly surprised. The liquid smelled like citrus. Light. Airy.
“Fine,” I huffed.
She added a squirt, the bubbles foaming instantly. “I need to go put up my hair.”
She hurried away, pulling off her shirt, showing the bare expanse of her back. I could hardly wait to feel it against my skin.
I dropped my sweats and dug under the sink for a couple of things, then slid into the steaming water, the heat feeling good on my sore muscles.
I sank into the tub, hanging my legs over the sides so my torso was submerged.
I stuck the pillow under my neck, letting the water rise, the bubbles expanding into a mountain of foam.
Casey reappeared, wrapped in a towel. Her hair was piled on her head, and she held the cotton across her perfect breasts like a talisman. I grinned at her and balanced the rubber ducky I had on my knee.
“Come on in, Pixie. My duck is friendly, and he wants to say hi.” I winked. “So does my cock. He has a lot to tell you, actually.”
She looked between the duck and my face, unsure how to react. I squished the duck, and he emitted an odd quacking noise.
She dropped the towel. I caught my breath at the sight of her creamy skin, heavy breasts, and the sweet cleft between her legs. I had missed all of them. I held out my hand. “Come here.”
She slid into the tub, settling between my legs, and leaned her head on my chest. I sighed in contentment, feeling the tension begin to drain away. Simply having her close did that for me.
“Your duck is awfully quiet. Not even a peep,” she murmured after a few moments of silence.
I held the duck in front of her.
“‘Quack, quack, quack,’ said the little rubber ducky,
‘Keep rubbing back on me, and you’ll get a little fucky.’”
Her laughter was loud, and I kept going.
“Quack, quack, quack, the ducky loves your rack.
We’ll start off in here, and we’ll finish in the sack.”
Her amusement echoed off the tiles, making me laugh with her.
She took the duck from my hand and dropped him into the tub. He disappeared in the mountains of foam.
“Don’t give up firefighting,” she mumbled, still laughing.
“Probably a good idea,” I replied.
“But A for effort.”
“Dammit, that was a great poem for being off the cuff,” I teased her, bending to nip her neck.
She shook her head in silent amusement.
“Why do you have a rubber ducky?” she asked a moment later.
I chuckled. “My ducky surprises you?”
“It is a bit out of character for you.”
“Lou gave it to me years ago, not long after I moved in. I told her I used the tub on occasion for aches. She thought it was funny.”
“She’d be shocked at the things he says,” she teased.
“I highly doubt that. What would shock her is the fact that I still have it. Or that I showed it to you.”
“You don’t show your ducky to other lady visitors?” she asked.
I pulled her tight to my chest. “You are the only lady visitor I have ever had here.”
“In the tub?”
I pressed my lips to her ear. “In this house.”
“Oh.” She squeezed my knees, nestling against me. Silence fell, and we both drifted, the heat soaking into us, the bubbles slowly dissipating. I still had the need for her, but right now, I was content to relax here with her in my arms.
I barely recognized myself. Letting my colleagues and townspeople know we were a couple. Lying in a bubble bath with the same woman, making up stupid poems to get her to laugh. Looking forward to sleeping beside her tonight. Waking up with her tomorrow.
Who the hell was I, and when did Jesse Thorne leave the building?
Or, the voice in my head argued, had I finally found him again?
We got out of the tub when the water cooled. I wrapped her in a towel, dropping kisses to her wet skin. I dried myself off, following her to the bedroom, lying down and watching as she brushed her hair, the long swath of dark silk gleaming in the lights.
She caught my eye in the reflection, smiling. “What?” she asked.
“You are so beautiful.”
She smiled, setting down her brush and walking to the bottom of the bed. She dropped her towel and crawled up the mattress like a lioness on a hunt. My cock roared to life again, and she grinned as she sat on my thighs.
“The ducky made me a promise.” She smiled as she wrapped her hand around me, causing me to groan. “I hope he plans on keeping his word.”
Then she slid back, bent, and took me in her mouth.
My shout was loud, and I slid my hands into her thick hair. “Keep doing that, and you can have anything you want, Pixie,” I praised her. “Anything.”
She rubbed my thighs, working me with her tongue and mouth, sucking and licking.
Playing with my balls and teasing the crown.
Letting her hair tickle my skin. Cupping me and swallowing around my length.
Driving me insane with desire. She knew exactly how to touch me.
Make me wild. “I need inside you,” I begged. “Pixie, please.”
She released me, licking her lips. I sat up, wrapping my hand around her nape and pulling her to my mouth. I tasted the sharpness of me on her tongue, which only drove me higher. I kissed her, sliding my hand between us, finding her slick and ready.
“You love sucking my cock, don’t you?” I asked, lifting her and laying her on the mattress. “You like making me crazy.”
“You make me crazy too,” she whispered.
I hovered over her, wrapping her legs around my hips and sliding into her, hissing at the sensation of being surrounded by her. She moaned my name, arching her back so I slid deeper, our bodies meshed together tightly.
I thrust in long, smooth motions. Held her ass to keep her close.
Whispered her name, moaned in pleasure, reveled in her noises.
The way she whimpered my name. Gripped my forearms. Moved with me so perfectly, our bodies in complete synchronization.
Her breasts bounced as my movements became rougher, faster.
I lifted her, her head falling back, the delicate line of her neck showing.
This was her favorite position. Surrounded by me, my arms holding her tight.
I yanked her up, kissing her mouth, swallowing her cries of ecstasy.
I loved how her breasts rubbed against my skin, her hard nipples little points of contact.
How her hair brushed against my legs. The way she felt gripping me inside her.
I held her close as I orgasmed, the pleasure so great all I could do was breathe her name.
Hold her close and rock us together until the storm passed.
I lowered her back to the mattress, dropping kisses along her jaw and neck, the bridge of her nose, and finally, back to her sweet mouth.
I held her as she fell asleep, nothing between us but air.
And it was all I wanted there to be.