Chapter 30 #2
One of his big shoulders shrugs. “You were so determined. Didn’t want to ruin your decision, spoil it by saying it wasn’t unique.”
I snort. “I don’t care about that. I just…” I pause, suddenly wondering if the psych tests were right. Maybe we were meant to be. “I have the same tattoo as my husband.”
Carefully, he brushes back some of my hair. Like he could damage me if he went too fast. “Yep. We’re a unit.”
The steam doesn’t just rise from the tub. I feel it inside. We’re certainly acting as if we’re a unit. And I like that. More than I’m willing to admit.
I break away enough to step inside the bath, dropping my towel. A moan of pleasure escapes my lips.
“Well, I’ll just…” Apollo turns to leave, but I stop him.
“Wait! Will you— Will you stay with me?”
That makes his entire face light up. “Of course.”
Something about his very presence soothes me like the hot water can’t. He plops onto the toilet and leans his elbows on his bent knees, hands propping up his chin.
“Did he mean something important to you, then? It seems as if—”
“Ayan Dutta?” My jaw drops.
He looks down at the white tile floor, taking his time to respond. “Yeah. If he’s so hellbent on getting you back or for revenge or whatever—”
“No! Not at all. We were just… He was convenient and part of my list.” The water drips off my arms as I stroke my skin with the loofah doused with soapy bubbles. “I’ve never been in love.”
With a flash, his gaze whips toward me, and I suddenly blush all over. His eyes grow intense. “Never?”
I shake my head, almost laughing at the thought of feeling something for Ayan. “No.” It dawns on me. What if my husband has… “H-Have you?”
He doesn’t move an inch, his eyes locked on my face. “Once.”
It hurts more than I thought it could. My heart thuds against my ribs.
“Ah.” With slow motions, I wash my neck and try to make it sound casual as I ask, “Who was she?”
“Do you need help?” Leaning forward, he gently takes the sponge from me and strokes my back as I hug my knees.
“I would say get in, but—” I wave my finger at his body.
He laughs hard. Harder than I would expect. “I won’t fit.”
It’s a few minutes of him making sure every inch of me is washed, then rinsed. His fingers dig into my scalp as he shampoos my hair. Then he asks for the conditioner to smooth it through all my locks with tenderness. Silence feels warm and comfortable. But the burning question inside remains.
“What happened to her?”
“Who?” he asks, hanging my sponge to dry and pulling me out of the tub with extra care. With a big hug, he wraps me in a towel, then sheds his pants.
“The-the girl. The one you were in love with?”
“Oh, I uh…” He strokes a hand through his hair and turns on the shower, deafening the sound in the room as he drains the tub. “Just gotta jump in and get cleaned up myself. Get dressed. But don’t go too far.”
“I won’t.” I already feel the pull to be closer to him. Like if we put too many feet between us, my fear will eat at my nerves again.
As I slip into my underwear and pajamas, I realize he’s put me off his answer once again. So I decide not to press. Mainly because I’m not sure I could bear to hear the answer.
And I wonder what that says about me…and how I’m feeling.
I perch on the edge of our bed as he emerges from the bathroom, skin dewy. His towel clings to his hips, and when it falls off, I have to take a deep breath to steady the thudding pulse in my clit as I spot his thick dick swaying between his thighs.
His plump, firm ass.
Broad back that flexes as he bends.
He tugs up some shorts and slides his feet into a pair of ornately embroidered slippers.
When he reaches for my hand, I get dizzy.
Especially when pulls me into his warm chest. “Come on, tulip.” Pressing his lips to the top of my damp head, he guides us to the living room. “Let me take care of you.”
We settle on the sofa, him lying back and patting his pecs. “Right here. Get comfy.”
I smile and snuggle up to him. The steady beat of his heart is like a lullaby to ease my worries.
He reaches for the remote and turns on football. His team is playing.
I shiver until he covers us with the blanket from the back of the couch, making sure every inch of me is protected.
“This okay?” he asks, and I nod.
Suddenly, I think about Delta. The parties. His fraternity life. What kind of routine does he have? “Sorry to ruin any plans you may have had for tonight.”
He snorts, breath hitting my shoulder. “This is my perfect evening.”
I rest my chin on his sternum to look up at him. “Really?”
“Are you kidding? Lying on the sofa with my girl in my arms watching football? Yeah. This is the stuff, tulip.”
Smiling, I rest my cheek on his chest again and listen to his strong heartbeat. I think we have a lot in common.
His earlier statement about being slow creeps into my mind. “Will you teach me?”
“Teach you what?” When he speaks, the resonance of his bass vibrates through his ribs to my cheek.
“About the Stallions. I want to know more about our team.”
And that’s when his arms tighten around me and the deep lull of his voice soothes me to sleep.
Held in my husband’s arms.
Safe.
For now.