Page 61 of An Unexpected Everything
He threw his head back and laughed, then tugged me toward the large, spacious bathroom.
As soon as we walked in, I froze, my heart in my throat.
He had lit tea light candles all around the bathroom, filled the tub with still steaming hot water, with bubbles and rose petals scattered all over.
“Blakely told me when you would be heading over here, so I think I got the water temperature just right.”
“You did this for us?” I asked, my voice breathy.
“I did this for you, but I can join if you want. I know you need to relax, baby. It’s been a shit show recently, and I figured a hot bath before you have to deal with all of the wedding festivities tomorrow was the way to go.”
I turned in his arms, went to my tiptoes, and pressed a kiss to his mouth.
“No one’s ever made me a bath like this before.”
He scowled. “I didn’t before?” he asked, and I knew he was speaking of eight years prior.
“I had a really crappy tub at my old apartment, and there wasn’t any space for even me to have a true bath.”
“Well I’m glad I’m fixing this now.”
“You know, I think there’s enough space for you to join me,” I whispered.
“If I join you, I’m going to fuck you in that tub. Are you ready for that?”
“Weston, haven’t you realized by now that I’m always ready for you?” I asked, and then his lips were on mine, sweet and gentle.
We slowly stripped each other, exploring one another as we did so.
I loved this side of Weston. Yes, he could be rough, grouchy, and overbearing, and I loved that part of him too. The gentle side of him, the one who wanted to ensure that these panic attacks went away and I had someone to lean on, that part scared me.
Because I was falling so head over heels in love with Weston Caldwell, that I could barely hold on to what was in front of me.
“Oh that’s hot,” I hissed as I dipped one foot into the tub, then the other. Weston held on to my hand, ensuring I didn’t slip, as he followed me into the tub, me with my back to him. His rock-hard erection pressed against me, and I wiggled slightly, unable to keep still.
“You keep doing that, we’re going to have a problem before we even start,” he said, nipping at my shoulder.
I smiled, leaning against him. “Okay. We could do that.”
“First though, we relax.”
And so I took him to heart, resting my head against the warmth and sturdiness of his chest, as the water covered my breasts, and he just held me.
When his hands began to lazily draw over my skin, I moaned, my eyes closed as he explored. He traced circles over my nipples, and they pebbled beneath the water. My breath caught, and I leaned into the moment, just allowing myself to breathe.
When his fingers dipped lower, over my stomach, and between my legs, I widened for him, needing him. That was the problem. I always needed this man and Isabella Cage Dixon didn’t need anyone. I’d long learned that lesson in order to protect those I loved.
“So eager,” he whispered, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine. “Let’s see exactly what we have here.” And in that moment, he slowly explored my lower lips before spreading me with two fingers.
“Weston,” I panted.
“That’s it, take me.”
He slid his middle finger inside, the thick digit already stretching me. With one hand on my breast, he rocked into me, nearly sending me over the edge with just one finger.
Then he inserted two fingers, and I let out a shocked gasp.
“How are your fingers so big?”
