Page 113 of Nikolai (Kansas City Reapers)

Foreheads pressed together, my nails digging into his back, we reached our climax together. This connection, this intimacy, was unlike anything I’d ever felt. And I doubted I ever would again. Not with anyone other than him.

Both of us trembling from the force of our pleasure, we lay there together, intertwined and perfectly satiated.

It was bliss. It was perfection. And I could not imagine a more perfect way to seal the declarations we had both made that evening.

“I don’t know how we got here, but—” I began.

His finger pressed against my lips, halting my words.

“No matter how we got here… I’m just glad we did.”

And, for what it was worth, I couldn’t have agreed more.

Chapter 27

Nikolai

Weeks had passedsince that first night we’d stumbled into each other’s lives, an encounter neither of us had wanted, but both of us had been forced into. I had initially brushed it off as just another fleeting connection. What had begun as a casual fling, a mere distraction from the dire circumstances we had been thrust into, had evolved into something far deeper than I had ever anticipated.

I found myself craving her at the most inopportune moments, recounting our times together over and over like a movie that played on an endless loop in my mind. It was in those quiet moments, the ones in which I could not stop myself from re-living, that a profound realization washed over me, reshaping everything I had thought I knew about love.

I had spent my life laboring under the belief that love was a complex, unpredictable beast that only ever led to disappointment. I was always the one who steppedcarefully, who kept his heart guarded and his intentions measured.

But here I was, with her beside me, feeling something I had never felt before. With her, love wasn’t a battle; it was a refuge. A place where I could simply be. I didn’t have to try or pretend; it was like I had been searching in the dark forever, only to finally find a light that had been there all along. And in that moment, I understood something fundamental—I wanted to protect her, to be the unwavering shield against any harm that might come her way. Not because she was a job, or that it was my duty. But because I needed it.

I neededher.

This wasn’t about managing emotions or navigating relationships anymore. It was about a fierce, instinctive desire to care for her, to cherish her in a way that felt both exhilarating and utterly right. For the first time, love was not a challenge to overcome, but a truth I was eager to embrace.

I slipped from the bed, carefully extricating myself from Maddy’s embrace. I walked into the bathroom with a renewed sense of energy and purpose. I filled the bathtub, thankful I had chosen to put a large tub in this room; it was not quite as big as the one in the basement, but large enough for the two of us, nonetheless.

I poured some sandalwood-scented bath oil into the steaming water, watching it unfurl like liquid gold. The soft fragrance wove through the air like an enchanting fog, setting a mood of intimate tranquility. From beneath the sink, I retrieved a handful of candles I kept hiddenthere for emergencies—a gesture of anticipation rather than necessity. Tonight, the ordinary had transformed into something extraordinary, and the flicker of candlelight was a perfect companion for this tender, unwritten moment.

“Perfect,” I whispered to myself, flipping the light off and letting the gentle glow fill the room.

“Hey,” I whispered as I tiptoed back over to the bed. She had fallen asleep in my arms, exhausted after the day we’d had and the love we’d shared — not that I could blame her. But we weren’t done yet.

She stirred sluggishly, nuzzling into the pillow.

“Five more minutes,” she whined. I felt my chest tighten just a little more. The love I felt for this woman was a gentle yet unyielding current, sweeping through my heart with a depth and force I hadn’t known I was capable of feeling.

Lifting her into my arms, I carried her into the bathroom, the feel of her against my skin soothing a part of my soul long ago suppressed by my own self-loathing and self-proclaimed inability to truly love.

How fucking wrong I’d been.

As we entered the bathroom, I noticed the bathtub was as full as I could allow it to be. I set her down gently on the soft rug placed before the tub, reaching out to turn the knob and shut off the water. Being carried into the bathroom, and then set down, had roused her fully from her short-lived slumber. She smiled up at me sleepily, the absolute picture of bliss.

“Alright, princess. Into the tub, you go.” I steadied heras she stepped into the steaming water on shaky legs. Pressing against her back to keep her upright, I slid into the tub behind her, immediately pulling her to me. I was desperate to keep our bodies connected for as long as possible.

“You were magnificent tonight, love,” I whispered against her ear, my hands tracing nonsensical lines over the length of her body under the water’s smooth surface.

“Tonight was everything,” she whispered.

We sat in serene silence, savoring the closeness and the delicate intimacy of the moment, as the candles’ gentle flames danced and wove shadows across the bathroom walls.

After a long moment, there was a knock on the door.

I had no idea who would be bothering us at a time like this, but whichever of my brothers had decided to interrupt our time, it had to be for good reason.

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