Page 37 of Double Shot

“Come with me,” he said softly, kicking out of his pants. He took my hand and led me toward the bathroom. We edged through the bedroom, and either Roan was asleep or was playing at it to give us our privacy.

He turned the knobs and started drawing a bath. He gave his charmed half-smile and trailed his hand through water, testing the temp. I twisted my hair into a quick knot. I didn’t want to look in the mirror. I didn’t want to see what sort of mess he had made, but I wanted to make sure that none had gotten into my hair.

None had, and I was thankful for that. He held out a hand to me like some sort of bathtub valet and I took it as he helped me over the high lip of the whirlpool tub. I lowered myself into the roiling, steaming water.

“Are you going to join me, Mister Lachlan?” I asked, and he smiled. He shook his head and from the edge of the tub took up a washcloth and a bar of soap.

“No, this isn’t about me, it’s about you and I really prefer showers,” he said and wet the cloth and lathered it with the soap. He washed my back and between my shoulders. “How are you feeling?” The gesture was nice but sitting in the water made the places that needed the cloth out of his reach.

“Nice,” I said. “But that wasn’t for me, it was for you. If you need to go do the thing you do, that’s okay. And don’t feel bad, I enjoyed it too.”

He smiled then and nodded. “Good. You relax here, I’ll grab a quick shower, then I’ll tuck you in with Roan.”

I smiled. “That sounds perfect.”

While he showered, I turned the jets in the tub to high, and added more hot water. The only thing missing was a swirl of glitter, or a mountain of fragrant bubbles. He was so – tactical - that I was still just really settling into the bath by the time he was done, toweled off, and returned to deliver me to our emperor-sized bed.

He seemed more like himself, the only thing missing was his signature glass of gin. Maybe he shotgunned one in the time he was gone. He looked perfect, put together, calmer and far more collected than he had earlier. I was a little jealous at how invigorated he appeared, actually. Like he was ready for anything but especially the next thing – whatever that may be.

He fluffed a towel and greeted me as I gave up the bath. I could have stayed longer, hell, I could have lived in that cauldron. He wrapped the towel around my shoulders and helped me out and then dry off. His touch was brisk and a bit rough, but this might have been the first time he had tried for aftercare, and he was clumsy. I did what I could to keep my expression dreamy and contented and not let him catch me with a smirk on my face.

When done, my breasts and ass were expertly dried, but my arms and my feet were still wet. It didn’t matter, the sheer sensation of having this hard and near emotionless man towel me dry, worrying about me, that was almost as pleasurable as all the orgasms he squeezed out of my tender pussy.

I adored this.

“I love you,” he murmured and kissed my forehead.

“I love you, too,” I murmured back dreamily.

“Come on, babe. Let’s put you to bed.”

“Stay with me this time?” I asked, and he smiled.

“Promise.”

We went into the bedroom and Conan shifted over on the bed, lifting the blankets while Kyle ushered me beneath them. He draped his robe over a chair and climbed in behind me.

“Feeling better, mate?” Conan asked him, taking me into his arms. I heartily welcomed the embrace.

“Much,” Kyle agreed with a satisfied sigh, and he pressed his lips to the back of my shoulder in a reverent kiss before cuddling up to my back.

“And you, Poppet?” I looked up and laid a gentle hand along the scruff of Roan’s cheek, leaning up to kiss him quietly. He smiled slightly against my lips and cuddled me close. Kyle shifted closer at my back and safe between them, I slept.

* * *

When I wokethe next morning, Conan stroked one of his big hands along my body, from the back of my thigh over my bum all the way to the back of my neck and back down to my waist. I sucked in a deep shuddering breath and stretched like a cat.

“Mmm,” I hummed slightly and a glance over my shoulder revealed Kyle was gone.

“He’s safe, Poppet,” Conan murmured. “Gone to work out.”

“You stayed.” I smiled.

“Aye.” The light in his green eyes was sparked but so much dimmer than it had been before.

I touched his cheek lightly and sighed, letting my eyes roam his ruggedly handsome features.

We lay like that, in silence, for I don’t know how long, me nude and pressed against him in his lounge pants and tank top. Kyle’s style on Conan’s body… just one more reminder that it hadn’t all just been a bad dream.

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