Chapter Twenty-Five #2
“Cats are terrified of water.” She washed the kitten gently, holding him firmly and doing her best to avoid his sharp little claws. “My dad and I had a cat for thirteen years. She was adorable, but hated baths. I usually gave her treats throughout the washing.”
I sat on the edge of the tub, ready to help if necessary.
“Robin doesn’t look like he could eat anything else,” I said, watching the kitten’s bulging sides. “I hope he doesn’t get sick later. I should have monitored how much he ate, but I got distracted.” I reached out to stroke her sexy ass.
“You’ll need to learn these things if you want to be a cat dad. It’s a real commitment.”
“I don’t have commitment issues. Not anymore.”
I watched her carefully, willing her to look at me, to understand what I was really saying.
I’d been the guy who kept things casual, who dated without getting attached, who prided himself on his independence.
But Jesse had changed everything. I was ready for commitment—to the kitten, yes, but more importantly, to her.
She kept her eyes on Robin, her voice carefully casual. “I don’t have commitment issues either.”
“Good to know.”
I wanted her to say more, to acknowledge what was building between us, but I could see she wasn’t ready yet. Time to change the subject for now.
“How’s the job with Richie Rich going?” I asked.
She spared me a glance. “You mean Ben? It’s going well. I’m really enjoying it.”
“I’m sure you are.” I tried to keep the bite out of my voice.
I’d been thinking about this a lot over the past few days—Jesse spending time with Ben, who clearly had money and charm, and who’d been obviously interested in her at the exhibit.
“Has he made another move on you yet? Because he was definitely all over you at the opening.”
Robin splashed water into her face, and she focused on rinsing him quickly while he growled his tiny kitten protest.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said distractedly. “Ben was there to see more of my work before I started decorating his house. He’s my employer. That’s it.”
I snorted. “Right. He looks like exactly the kind of guy who considers women part of the décor—expensive, beautiful objects to complement his expensive, beautiful house.”
She gave me a sharp look. “I didn’t know you were the jealous type. Weren’t you dating Candi just a few weeks ago? You didn’t seem to mind that she was seeing other guys at the same time.”
“You’re not Candi.” My voice was serious. “And I’m not the same guy I was a few weeks ago. Everything’s changed, Jesse. I’ve changed. I would never accept you dating other guys while you’re with me.”
The thought alone made my stomach twist. These past few days without her had been agony, and we’d just been fighting. The idea of her actually being with someone else, choosing someone else, was unbearable.
She swallowed, and her eyes softened. “I’d never do that. And it goes both ways. When I came over here tonight, I expected to find you and Candi playing cowboy.”
“Cowboy?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Or cowgirl. I didn’t have all the details straight in my imagination.” She wrapped Robin in a towel. Her cheeks were slightly flushed. “I didn’t know who would be on top, but I definitely expected you two to be naked and… occupied.”
I scoffed. “I don’t know whether to be insulted or amused.”
“Come on. How many men can resist Candi, with her wasp waist and perfect legs?”
Amusement made my lips twitch. “A wasp waist sounds like a warning sign.”
“Okay, then hourglass shape.”
“Makes me think of a fast-ticking bomb.” I reached for the kitten. “Here, let me take over. I need to learn, right?”
As I took Robin and began carefully drying his small, squirming body, I went on. “So, you expected to find me and Candi naked. Let’s set aside your apparently low opinion of me for now. What brought you here tonight? Were you planning to join us?”
Before she could answer, Robin decided he could outsmart his dad, the weak link.
One second he was in my hands, the next he twisted like a tiny, slippery eel.
His back claws raked my wrist, and he shot out of the towel with a startled ‘mrrrp!’ that sounded offended to the very core of his feline soul.
“Shit!” I lunged, but my fingers closed on empty fabric.
He skidded across the small strip of counter by the sink, paws scrambling for traction, then launched himself in a blind panic toward the nearest escape route—which happened to be the toilet sitting right next to us.
“Close the—”
Too late. In cinematic slow motion, Jesse and I stared at the open toilet lid. There was the soft scratch of claws on porcelain… and a splash.
For a heartbeat, there was stunned silence.
Then Jesse slapped a hand over her mouth, her shoulders shaking. “Oh my God! He Robin-ed right into the toilet.”
“Thank God I cleaned the bathroom this morning.”
The miserable, soggy kitten was clinging to the inner rim like a tiny, furious bat, eyes huge, fur plastered to his body in pathetic spikes.
I scooped him out, water dripping down my forearms. “Holy toilet bowl, Batman. You okay, buddy?”
Robin answered with an outraged squeak and tried to climb my chest, leaving wet paw prints on my T-shirt.
Jesse lost it, bending over with laughter. “You wanted to learn to be a cat dad,” she wheezed. “Lesson one: they are tiny, suicidal escape artists.”
“I’m adding ‘always close the toilet lid’ to the list.” Grimly, I returned to the sink, kitten squirming madly in my hands. “Okay, round two. This time we’re washing off eau de toilet.”
Jesse was still giggling as she turned the faucet back on.
Robin, apparently deciding there was nothing left in the universe that could surprise him anymore, resigned himself to a second rinse. He only yowled a little as Jesse worked quickly and efficiently, washing away his brief toilet baptism.
“Okay, buddy.” I held him more firmly this time as she shampooed his back. “No more parkour into open plumbing. That’s a house rule.”
Jesse snorted.
A few minutes later, Robin was once again a damp, resentful puffball wrapped snugly in a fresh towel, glaring in turn at me, Jesse, and the toilet.
Jesse huffed out a breath, wiping her hands on a towel. “What were we talking about before this untimely interruption?”
I thought for a moment. “Oh, I was asking if you planned to join Candi and me in whatever depraved activities you presumed we were doing.”
She glanced at me, running her tongue over her teeth in that way she did when she was annoyed. “Funny. Actually, I decided to learn from my previous mistake and not give in to assumptions this time. I came here to talk to you, to find out the truth instead of imagining the worst.”
“Well, well.” I arched my eyebrows, genuinely impressed. “Look at you, all mature and communicative. I’m grateful. Really grateful.”
I meant it. She could have stayed away, could have let her assumptions fester, could have written us off completely. Instead, she’d come here, taken the risk, and given us another chance.
Eventually, despite my best efforts, Robin managed to worm his way out of the towel and leaped onto the floor, taking off as though his tail was on fire. He bounced off the walls, sliding on the tile, clearly searching for somewhere to hide and groom himself in peace.
I looked at Jesse. “Should I—?”
She burst into laughter. “Let him be. It’s hot, and he’s dry enough. Once he calms down, we’ll show him where the litter box is.”
“And that’s it?” I was skeptical. “We just show him where it is, and he’ll magically know to use it?”
“Pretty much, yeah. As long as you keep it clean and accessible, he’ll figure it out. Oh, and always keep fresh water available.”
“That sounds manageable.” I leaned over to give her a quick kiss, already addicted to the easy affection between us. “I’ll be a great cat dad.”
“I believe you will be.”
“And you’ll be a great cat mom.” I watched her reaction carefully, saw her eyes widen slightly before she looked away.
She cleared her throat. “We should check on him before we get in the shower. Make sure he hasn’t destroyed anything or gotten stuck somewhere.”
We found Robin on the bed, perched regally despite his spiky, damp fur, furiously licking himself.
“We literally just washed him. Twice.” I stood there baffled, watching this tiny creature undo all our work—well, Jesse’s work mostly. “Why is he doing that?”
Jesse giggled. “In his mind, we completely ruined his fur with our stinky water and awful-smelling shampoo. Cats only feel truly clean after they’ve groomed themselves. It’s just how they are.”
“Nothing like taking matters into your own... tongue, huh?” I turned to her with a playful expression, my mind already heading in a different direction.
She caught my meaning immediately, a smile playing at her lips. “Sometimes it takes another tongue to get the job done.”
I slid my own tongue into her mouth and kissed her slowly, savoring her taste as we made our way back to the bathroom. We turned on the shower, and I adjusted the temperature to lukewarm. This was the first time we’d showered together, and I wanted to take my time.
We were still hungry for each other, even after the intense encounter in the kitchen less than an hour ago.
But this time was different—slower, more deliberate, more tender.
We lathered each other with shower gel, turning the simple act of washing into something intimate and sensual.
My hands worshiped the curves of her body, the places that made her breath catch, the spots that made her press closer.
Once we’d rinsed off, I couldn’t resist anymore.
I tore my mouth from hers and moved lower, my hands and tongue tracing a path down her body until I was kneeling before her.
She braced herself against the wet tile, and when my tongue first touched her center, she let her head fall back with a moan that echoed off the bathroom walls.
Being able to give her pleasure was quickly becoming my favorite thing in the world.
I raked my hands up her thighs as I worked, feeling the muscles tense under my palms. My tongue explored every fold, every sensitive spot, alternating between gentle and demanding.
When I added my fingers, sliding them inside and matching the rhythm of my mouth, her hands tightened in my wet hair.
I could feel her getting close, her body tensing, her breathing becoming ragged.
Just when she was on the brink, I rose to my feet and turned her to face the wall, entering her from behind.
My fingers found her front, stroking and circling that sensitive bundle of nerves, and she cried out, her face pressed against the wet tile.
When she convulsed around me, I let go completely, following her over the edge and pouring myself into her, while water continued cascading over us from above. In that moment, I knew with absolute certainty I was never letting her go again.