Page 83 of Our Little Cliche
Mechanical sounds of the entry door’s latch unwind, echoing into the room around me. I’ve been waiting for Cyrus to come back from chatting with Quinn for half an hour, and I can’t help but feel all nervous and giddy.
“There’s my girl.” My skin flares with goosebumps to his words. The way he says it…my girl.It does something to me that I couldn’t fathom words to explain. “I’m so sorry for making you wait, it took me forever to get rid of the old sod without sounding too obvious.”
“I missed you today.”
How silly does that sound?SayingI missed you, yet we’ve spent the entire day together. I haven’t touched the man since eight this morning other than an accidental hand touch, and my body is buzzing like I haven’t seen him in weeks.
“Fuck. I missed you too, angel.” His lips meet mine with a sense of impatience and longing. Each passing swirl of his tongue around mine feels like an apology. “Ihatedtoday. Ihatednot looking at you. Ihatednot touching you. Ihatedeverysecondof this day. Come, let us wash away this tedious day. I will bathe you and do your hair for tonight, how’s that?”
My words are barely audible behind the desperation and fragility of his affection. “You want to wash me?”
“Oh, yes.”
Something tells me that neither of us are going to bebathingwith the anticipation of getting clean. And we’re definitely going to need a shower after.
Chapter Forty-Three
CYRUS
“Thank you for the books,by the way. I can’t wait to put them on my bookshelf. If I ever get them,” Holly says, then goes back to blowing holes in the bubbles, laying on her belly in the bath.
I wink at her, squeezing a hefty dollop of shampoo into my palms. “Anything for you, angel. What makes you think you won’t get your stuff?”
“They won’t get back to me. I’ve been trying for a while now, but no reply,”
“They’re probably on holidays. I wouldn’t stress your pretty little head over it right now,” I try to reassure her before she overthinks things too much and gets in her head. It would suck if the furniture company were indeed scammers, but there’s nothing she or I could do about it if they were. “Take whatever of mine you want. I’ll even build you a whole library if you want me too. I’ve got enough pine lying around, and the right tools to do it.”
“Remind me to book a dentist first. If I’m not careful I’ll get a toothache, you’re too sweet.”
“Well, I care about you, Holly.”
“I know. That’s why I’m lying here about to have my hair washed.” Her crooked smile has me falling in love all over again.
“Precisely. Can you wet your hair a little more for me, please?”
When she dunks into the bathwater face down like a dolphin, her behind pops up above the bubbly surface.
Fuck.
Oh, how naive it was of me to think that I could make it through this entire bath without having my mind in the gutter. I did actually only haveoneintention on how this bath was going to go: and that was to make sure she was well taken care of after today—as my apology for not being able to smother her with affection—by giving her a hot bath, washing her hair and even finishing it off with a soothing facial before getting ready for tonight’s Gala.
Yet here I am, already rock fucking solid and fighting those pesky horny demons in my head. Unable to do anything else, I wet my lips, responding to her action with a subtle retort from my nose. “You do it on purpose, I swear.”
She locks her arms over the edge of the bath, splashing water onto my suit pants and stares right into my soul. I lean back against the wall on the little stool in front of the bath, crossing my arms.
“Do… what?” Her brow flares.
Oh, she is just as needy as I am.
“Make me wild. Mad.Insane.” I flick my eyes towards the bulge of my pants to show her what she does to me round the clock, and she giggles. “Now, roll over and let me wash your hair.”
Holly’s peachy nipples poke above the water, heightening my already erratic arousal. Without a second to spare I lean over her shoulders, cupping her boobs with my soapy hands. Her bodyreacts immediately to my touch there, rising above the water and parting her mouth into an ‘O’ with a breathy exhale.
I caress both breasts, then plant my kiss against her mouth before pulling her hair out of the water, and ringing the excess. I lather another glob of shampoo and massage it into her scalp.
“Touch yourself, Holly.”
Without debate, her hands disappear under the water, and I maintain my work on attending to her as she finds her rhythm. While the shampoo sits, I emulsify a floral scented body soap down the nape of her neck, shifting across her collar bones, and reaching under her shoulder blades to wash her.
