Page 59 of Truce Of The Matter

“You good?” he asks.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Is she in bed?”

“No. She’s taking a bath but she’ll be knocked out as soon as she’s in bed. I’m gonna grab her a water bottle. I haven’t restocked her little compact fridge by her bed. You want something to drink?”

“No. I’m good.”

“When I go up, come. I don’t know what you did to my baby but she’s dying to show you her room and I want you in mine too.”

He leans in and passionately possesses my lips before walking to his kitchen. I stand, leaving my boots in here, and follow. We walk from the kitchen, past the great room into hisfoyer, then up the staircase. Once upstairs, we pass an open space theatre room and a guest room before entering Aryel’s beautiful, Black Disney princess decorated room. She’s already laying in her sleigh bed but sits up when we walk in.

“Your room is beautiful,” I gush.

“Thank you,” she says, beaming. “My bathroom is Disney too. Ariel is my favorite.”

“I bet she is,” I tell her, then wink. “She’s my favorite one too.”

Rex actually has two small bottles of water and two bottles of apple juice. He places all four in her little fridge. It’s pink and sitting on top of her bedside nightstand. She yawns again then lays back on her pillows. He pulls her comforter up over her then kisses her forehead.

“Good night, baby,” he says.

“Good night, Daddy and good night, Miss Truce.”

“Sweet dreams, princess.”

After he powers Aryel’s TV on and lowers the volume, we leave her room and walk down the hall to his room, or should I say, suite. It’s double the size of my master and my room is considered large. There are clearly perks of owning a furniture store because every piece in this house is exquisite, including the pieces in here: the custom made Alaskan king bed, panel headboard that extends beyond the bed, stone fireplace, and oversized chaise lounges in the sitting area. The color scheme is black, gray, and gold, totally masculine, devoid of the soft touches I spotted in the other rooms.

“This is pretty big and impressive for just one man,” I comment as I take it all in.

“I’ve just been waiting on the right woman to claim her space in here and in my life,” he says before stepping behind me, negating the few feet between us.

His arms encase my body and he rests his chin on my shoulder. Slowly, he starts walking us toward his big ass bed and when we reach it, he turns me to face him. He smiles but the disappointment lingering in his eyes prevents the smile from reaching them. Concerned, my hands grip the sides of his face.

“Hey, you know you can talk to me, right?”

“You’re in my home, in my bedroom that’s too big for me, and in my arms. The last thing I want to do is talk,” he says before devouring my mouth.

He kisses me with the perfect mixture of passion, lust, and aggression that he manages to momentarily detour my mission of comforting him.Momentarily though.When our lips break, I’m breathless but his somber eyes refocus me.

“I’m serious. You’ve been here for me through my momma and Daija. I’ve cried on your shoulders too many times to count. Rex, listen to me. Please, let me be that same comfort for you. Talk to me,” I plead and he sighs. “How about this? I need a bath. Warm water and a tub always relaxes me. I know you have a tub in this big ass room.”

Before he can object, I break from his embrace, sprint to his bathroom, anddamn! He has a tub alright.This enormous bathroom is a dream. The floor is tiled with black marble with thin gold veins. The dual shower is beautifully encased with marble and stone and the dual sink has a similar design and structure.But the tub! It’s heaven!It owns the middle of the bathroom: huge, square, and sunken.

“This has to be custom. I’ve never seen a square tub. How many people can fit in here?” I question because it legit looks like a cocktail pool.

“The designer said twelve but I’ll never know for sure.”

“Well, we are about to confirm two right now.” I walk over to the gold knobs and quickly realize that I haven’t the faintest ideaon how to turn it on. “You clearly need to start it; it’s too intricate for me. Do you have any oils or gels?”

“In the linen closet by the sink.” As he turns on the tub, I trek to his linen closet and find a selection of body washes and gel, more neutral but some masculine scents. I settle for a coconut and shea butter one and walk it over to the tub. It’s quickly filling. There are over twenty streams flowing throughout it. “I set it for eighty-eight degrees,” he informs me.

“Can you up it to ninety-five? I like it just a tad bit hotter.”

“You trying to burn my skin?”

“It will not burn your skin. Trust me,” I say and he adjusts something and the temperature rises. “Thank you.” I squeeze a nice amount of the bath gel inside then place the bottle on the side of the tub near the large marble towel basket. I inch back closer to him then pat my hand on my zipper. Gladly, he unzips my dress then gently pushes it off my shoulders. I remove my arms and push it over my hips. He unhooks my bra then slides his hands on my sides to my breasts. He cups them before pushing my bra off. His hands slide into my panties and he swipes two fingers over my slit. “Mmm, our bath,” I remind him.

My plan is to get him in this tub, let his body and mind relax, then convince him to unburden his feelings onto me. For once, I want to be his support, be what he needs and show him I’m here for him.

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