Page 26 of Dragon Rivals of New York

I can’t help but ask, “Do you bathe in your dragon form?”

“Sometimes.” His lips twitch. “And sometimes I just like having space for more people.”

A surge of anger punches through me at the thought of him showering with anyone other than me, but it dissipates once I see the hunger in his eyes. He’s looking at me like I’m the only person in the world, like he wants to worship every inch of me.

I wonder if he realizes how inexperienced I am compared to him. All he knows about me is that I had a messy divorce and spent the last year having one-night stands, and not even that many of them.

He sets me on the counter, then turns the faucet on to fill the tub. A generous pour of bubble bath and a bath bomb later, he returns to me. His gaze skims my body, but it’s less heated than before. More assessing. Looking down, I notice the shallow cuts along my legs. “It’s fine. Don’t worry aboutit.”

“I’ll decide what’s fine and what’s not.” He takes a bottle of antiseptic and a bag of cotton balls from the medicine cabinet. “I’ll feel better when you’re a dragon and can heal faster.”

I wince as he dabs one of the deeper cuts. His touch is gentle as he cleans each scratch and kisses each bruise. There aren’t a lot of them, which is surprising for as rough as they were. But I get the impression that the two men were very aware of what they were doing and how much damage it might cause. They both have a protectiveness toward me I’ve never experienced before.

Manny was never rough. But he also never cared much when I got hurt. In ten years together, he never once cleaned a cut or removed a splinter for me.

Jethro does both with patience and a clinical professionalism that surprises me considering we’re both still naked. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen him flaccid. I guess he doesn’t have a sadist kink, which is good. Blood play isn’t something I’ve ever wanted to experience. I didn’t even know it was a thing until reading romance, but I figured out pretty quickly it wasn’t for me.

A little rough and tumble in the woods, though? Definitely for me.

When he’s done, he kisses the inside of my knee, then carriesme to the full, steaming bath. He climbs in, still holding me, and sits down with me in his lap. The hot water feels like heaven on my aching muscles.

“Dip down, lovely. I’m going to wash your hair.”

“I can do it.” He’s already done too much for me tonight.

“I know you can, but I want to.” He gently eases me back into the water. Picking out a few small sticks and leaves as he works his fingers through my hair.

“No one’s washed my hair for me since I was a child.”

“Not even your husband?”

I shake my head and give a small chuckle. It feels almost impossible to imagine Manny washing my hair, and I never would have asked him to. Honestly, it never crossed my mind. But it feels amazing.

Jethro massages my scalp with a tender touch. It’s intimate and sensual without being sexual, though I’m sure things could shift that direction easily.

Jethro helps me sit back up and lathers shampoo into my long hair. “Your ex was missing out.”

He digs his fingers in a little more, and I close my eyes, letting myself enjoy his touch. Savor it while I can.

Chapter 13

Jethro

Sora’sexisn’tentirelya mystery to me. After I met her last year, I did my research on the man. He cheated on her repeatedly. He’s also cheating on the woman he’s seeing now. My fist tightens in her hair as I think about the scumbag.

But I’ve always had the impression that he did more than just cheating. Sora’s loyal to a fault and she grew up in a very conservative environment. I’m not sure finding out about the cheating would have been enough to get her to kick him out and file for divorce. It should be enough, but I have a hard time imagining that it would be under the circumstances.

I turn the tap back on, fill a clean cup I keep near the bath for this purpose, and pour the clean water over Sora’s hair, rinsing out the soap.

“Will you tell me about him?” I ask, worried I might spookher.

I’ve watched her and learned enough about her over the past year to know she doesn’t like opening up. Especially not to men. She has the occasional one-night stand, but never sees the guy again. With the exception of our night together, her affairs always happen at the guys’ place. Every time she went home with someone, I had to have Cyrus spar with me to keep me from going barbaric. He understood, having watched his own mate date someone else for years.

Sora’s quiet for so long, I wonder if she heard me.

“What do you want to know?” she asks, voice low and quiet.

“Why did you split up?”

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