Page 46 of Heston
He landed another sharper smack on the gorgeous ass that would soon be bare, blushing red, overheated, and—his. “You’ll want what I give you, brat, and I’m going to give you exactly what you need. What you’ve been asking for.”What I was once too dumb to see that you needed.
“A spanking?” she teased, wiggling that warm ass under his palm.
“I was thinking a nice, hot bath.” This time he smoothed a gentler hand over her backside while he climbed the open staircase to the loft.
She froze. “Seriously? A bath? What? Do I stink?”
He was on the top step by then, outside the master bath off his bedroom. “No, never. We’ll skip it if you don’t want to.” She’d want to. He knew that for sure. He tipped her off his shoulder onto her feet and told her, “Close your eyes.”
Once she did, he opened the bathroom door, turned her around to face the delicately fashioned surprise, and whispered, “Welcome home, London.”
When she opened her eyes, her mouth fell open, as she took in the red brick walls across from the door, their reflections in the mirror over the sink, and the bright white ceiling overhead. He flipped the switch beside the door to heat the dark gray slate under her feet. For once, Heston kept his mouth shut and let her process his gift.
London entered the room, her bare feet on the slate a mere whisper, her eyes wide. He’d bought the antique, hammered-copper tub on a whim after he’d remodeled the loft. Two giant Boston ferns sitting in hard-as-hell-to-find wrought-iron plant stands, graced one end of the free-standing tub. London used to love ferns. Another hung from the ceiling like a leafy piñata. He flicked the switch on the wall behind him, and the fairylights he’d strung around the floor-to-ceiling window became flickering fireflies in the dark room.
Shelves of all the scented candles, soaps, bath bombs, and lotions she used to love lined the wall at opposite end. Fluffy white towels waited on warming racks. London might think she was badasssed, that she had to be, to compete like a man in this dog-eat-dog world. But she was also a girly-girl who loved to relax in a steaming tub of bubbles, with a glass of wine at the end of a hard day. In here, she’d be safe to be herself. The ugly world wasn’t welcome.
“It’s a really big tub,” she said quietly.
He held his breath, afraid he’d done it again. Overwhelmed her with his idea of what she liked, instead of first understanding what she thought was important. Maybe this wasn’t such a grand surprise after all.
London was studying her reflection in the beveled mirror over the double sink. One hand went to her cheek, the fingers on her other hand went to her lips. She looked shocked standing there, as if she were seeing herself for the first time. Maybe she was.
Heston backed out of the door and let her have whatever time she needed to decompress. Damn. He’d done exactly what she’d told him not to do. Thought he knew better. Had to be the hero. Never earnestly listened to understand what she tried so hard to tell him.
He was still as dumb as a box of rocks.
“Hes,” she said, stopping him before he moved too far away. “Join me?”
His heart skipped a beat. “Me? Yeah, sure. If that’s what you want.”
“I’ve only ever wanted you.” She turned her back to the sink, and in one fell swoop, ripped her t-shirt over her head. “I want you. In that tub. With me. Now. Crank up the water. I like thosetwinkly lights, but leave the others off. Let’s party like we used to. Remember?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Heston couldn’t help the grin that cracked his face. Party like they used to? That, he could do.
Chapter Twenty-Two
London couldn’t wait for Heston to undress, so she did it for him. Just unzipped his pants and stripped him out of his jeans while he tried to toe out of his boots without falling. His shirt went flying, then, jumping from one foot to the other, she fumbled out of her pants. He did the honors of peeling her panties off. At last, they were who they’d been before this whole mess started. Just Heston. Just London. Nothing in between.
Her heart pounded when his hooded gaze flashed over her nakedness with lust. Everywhere he looked, each time he licked his lips, flames ignited in her belly. This was what she’d wanted from him in that dark conference room. Them. Finally together in heat and passion. An answer to her marriage proposal would’ve been good, too.
His brow lifted, giving him a devil-may-care vibe. “Birth control?”
“Oh, yeah. Almost forgot,” she breathed, wishing she’d been as responsible as him. “Implant. Nexplanon.”
“How long ago?”
“Umm, four, no four and a half, maybe…” She had to think when she’d gotten the tiny implant. The tiny get-it-and-forget-it choice of birth control was only good for five years. “Damn. Nearly five years ago, Hes.”
“Should still be good. I get tested every year, and you already know I haven’t been with anyone else since… then.”
“But what if—?”
“We get pregnant?”
Oh, she loved the way he said ‘We.’ Not just ‘you.’
“Then we’ll have a blonde baby girl who’ll look just like you running around this place.”
