Page 81 of Vicious Hearts

I spin around, my face white as I stare at him. “What?”

“I saidcorrect. As in, whatever creative insult or label for me you just thought, assume it’s correct. Nowtake your fucking clothes off, or I will.”

Heat tingles over my skin.

“Fine.”

I turn away again, pulling the t-shirt off and then peeling down my leggings. I flush, covering my chest as I turn to him.

“Normal people don’t take baths in their panties, I hate to break it to you.”

“Do you want me to evenapproachthe list of ways you or anything about you is the furthest thing from normal?” I spit back.

Cillian lifts a bored brow. “Take them off; get in.”

I purse my lips defiantly.

His knife flicks out again, and my body shivers—nipples hardening as my skin tingles.

“Okay! Jesus!”

My face heats as I turn away again, dropping the panties and then bringing a hand down to cover myself. Moving at an angle, away from him, I step into the tub, holding back a groan as the hot water and fragrant bubbles envelop me.

“Okay, I’m in,” I mutter. “You can go now.”

Cillian rolls up his sleeves as he kneels next to the big marble tub.

“Uh, what are you doing?”

He grabs the bodywash and loofah sitting on a shelf built into the tub.

“Seriously? This again?”

“Seriously. Lift your arms.”

I shoot daggers at him.

“Lift your arms or I’ll tie you up spread-eagled in my shower and we’ll do it that way instead.”

Heat simmers in my face as I purse my lips.

“Maybe Ilikeshowers,” I mutter under my breath as I look away and limply lift an arm.

“Keep up the attitude, and I’mmore thanhappy to oblige.”

I shiver as he soaps me up just like before—washing every single part of my body, slowly. I pretend to hate how much I hate it when he moves up my thighs beneath the bubbles.

But I don’t. And my body doesn’t lie. There’s no stopping the ripple of heat that ignites through me when he slides the loofah over my pussy, or the eager way my pulse races.

Just like before, my hair is next. I shiver, almost freaking purring like Bones as he shampoos and conditions my hair, slowly. Gently.

Sensually.

I cross my arms over my chest as my nipples harden, closing my eyes as he rinses my hair.

And then, suddenly, he’s done.

I blink in surprise when he drops the loofah into the tub, dries his strong hands on a towel, and stands resolutely.

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