Page 65 of The Minotaur's Valentine

I don’t want to waste any more time in my head. “Thank you.” I should say more.

Milo doesn’t need more. “How about a candlelit dinner for two followed by a nice bubble bath? Or a relaxing shower?”

“Only if you share it with me. I’m going to miss having you all to myself.” I pretend to pout. Going to work will be good. It’ll clear my head. Give me space and time.

Even though I’ll probably just miss him like crazy.

Chapter Fifty-One: Libby

Dinner is vegetarian lasagna that Milo and I make together.

I fucking love that my boyfriend can cook.

There’s red wine and candles, and soft, throbbing music. It matches the pulsing in my pussy when I brush my bare toes up Milo’s leg.

Milo’s in baggy black sweatpants and a black tank top that looks like it’s going to come apart at the seams if he takes a deep breath.

Even though the food is divine, I don’t ask for seconds. I can hardly swallow, what with my tongue flopping out.

“Bath time?” I ask breathlessly as I wrap the leftovers.

Milo loads the dishwasher.

We’re so tame. So domesticated.

But I also want to spread my legs on his kitchen counter and take him up on that “worship every inch” thing.

MILO INSISTS THAT I wait in the hallway while he has a frantic cleaning session in the bathroom. “Do minotaurs shave?” I call through the door.

“Not this minotaur! I just want to scrub things real quick. I don’t even use the tub that often.”

In a way, it comforts me that my mythological minotaur boyfriend does so much “normal” guy stuff, like talk on the phone to his mom and have a cleaning freakout.

“In the summer, it’s easier to hose off in the shed. It has a drain and an overhead sprinkler.”

I move to the nearest window facing his yard and check it out. Yep, there are two sheds I never noticed, one dark brown and one tan. “What’s in the other shed?”

“The riding mower and grill, stuff like that. The other one is for sheet metal and stuff I can’t store in the house. I don’t have that much stock to store, currently. Business is good.”

Part of me feels guilty for making him miss two nights of selling. The other part is picturing a steamy summer day, my hands braced on the wall, warm water spraying over our naked bodies as Milo thrusts into me from behind.

“Okay, all re—” Milo flings open the bathroom door and stops mid-word.

I guess if your girlfriend is standing naked in the hallway, you do that. “Do you have a rubber ducky?”

“Uh. No?”

“Then you’d better have something else for me to play with.” I wink and slip past him.

THE TUB IS A SUNKEN tub, the deep, wide kind, which makes sense considering who owns it. I hadn’t noticed earlier, not bothering to peek behind the white shower curtain.

“I don’t think I own bubble bath. I have body wash. It’s Minty Morning Fresh, so I—”

I silence him with a kiss. “The whole point was for me to get wet and naked with you. I don’t care about the bubbles. Also,” I smirk as I run my hands down the satiny covering of short hair on his chest, “I wasn't joking when I said I wanted something to play with.”

Milo’s eyes roll back in his head as I lead him to the tub, holding my “plaything.”

I don't know what Milo was thinking of earlier when we were in his bedroom, but the way he played with me would have been life-changing, a reva-fucking-lation if he hadn’t already shown me how awesome his oral skills were earlier this weekend. I loved exploring him when we were enjoying our candlelight campout in my living room. But now we’re in his bathtub with him sprawled out as best he can in the tub’s close confines while I kneel between his knees.

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