Page 108 of Wild Eyes
“It’s infectious. You make me feel like everything will be okay.”
“It will be.”
Her expression turns serious. “Even us?”
Us. Neither of us knows what this is, but we know it’s not a connection you walk away from. It’s… With her, it’s different.
“Especially us.”
“How can you know that?”
I shrug. “I don’t know anything, but I believe it. And for me, that’s enough.”
She smiles but it wobbles. Silence settles in for a moment, but she doesn’t look away.
“Hey, Sky?”
“Yeah?”
“You good if I treat you like porcelain, just for a little bit?”
She blinks, then stares down at the plate resting on her legs, our feet where they lean together. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
I put our plates on the counter and reach down to give her my hand. She lets me lead her through the house, light softening as the day drifts toward evening. When we hit the glass encasement of the en suite shower, I turn, picking up a piece of her hair. One of the strands that trends a bit blonder, toward the front.
Gold skin, bronze hair—everything about her shimmers. I want to remember this. This day. This moment. This spot of brightness.
I pull her to me and press a kiss to her forehead as I reach into the shower and twist the knob, setting the spray to the right temperature before going back to Skylar. Her eyes are downcast, and she seems anxious.
My palm glides over the back of her head. “You good?”
She laughs. “Is it weird that this feels more intimate than fucking?”
“No,” I reply simply, lifting the oversized shirt over her head and letting it fall to the floor. She looks at me now, gaze searching as I step out of my boxers. “Let’s go. In the shower.”
Her eyes brighten. “More sex?”
My jaw drops. “You’re a fiend. You have an…a-dick-tion.” I wink, and she bursts out laughing as she turns away from me.
“That is the daddest dad joke of all dad jokes.”
In turn, I reach forward and land a playful slap on her ass. “Get your fine ass in there, fancy face.”
When the warm spray hits, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about more sex, but I contain myself because something tells me that’s not what she needs.
With the door shut behind us, steam fills the space, and I draw her close. We let the warm water pour over us, breathing each other in for a few beats.
Then I reach for the soap and wash her. Her arms. Her breasts.Fuuuck. Her breasts.I force my hands down to her stomach.
“What are you doing?” Her brows furrow.
“Washing you.”
Her head tilts.
“Haven’t you ever showered with someone before?”
“Yeah, but not where we wash each other.” A vision of her doing this with someone else in this moment flashes behind my eyes. “Usually, it’s just straight se?—”
