Page 75 of Prodigal Son

“Wait, I’ll leave!”

He dropped his pants.

She stared, unsure if she’d ever seen such a finely chiseled work of art. “There isn’t a single imperfection on you.”

He chucked and snatched a rough bar of raw soap from the dish. “Trust me, I have flaws.”

Yeah, right. Not from where she stood.

Moving under the shower spigot, he pulled the chain that released a spray overhead. Rivulets of cold water drenched his body as his heated skin steamed in the chilled air. Her gaze dropped. Not a single thick inch of him seemed affected by the cold.

Her mouth went dry and slack as she stared unblinking at the stunning display. Suds chased down his chest, between his legs, and his hand followed. He stroked himself intentionally, as if to show her he didn’t mind having an audience.

When her stare lifted to his, he grinned. “Join me?”

Why was she debating sleeping with him again? He was lightyears out of her league. The fact that he wanted her at all should be a massive red flag, sure, but maybe she should just stop psychoanalyzing every interaction and just enjoy the time they had.

“Are you married or betrothed to someone or something?”

Laughter barked out of him. “What?”

“Are you single?”

“Completely untethered.”

How was that possible? “And when you asked me to stay, you meant…?”

“I want my cock pumping between those thick thighs.” His fist squeezed his engorged flesh, blatantly stroking as he stared at her. “Do you regret last night?”

It had been the best sex she’d ever had, but mostly because she assumed she’d never see him again. Yet she was still here. Now there might be expectations or a twist. The mystic was gone and new consequences appeared. She was starting to feel things outside of the unspoken booty call bounds.

Before she formulated an answer, he stepped out of the stream of water and crowded her against the wall. “Let me make it easier on you, Destiny. I was there. I know you enjoyed it, over and over again.” He wedged his hand down the front of her pants and raised a brow. “And I know when a woman is aroused.” He withdrew his hand, holding her stare, as he sucked the tip of his finger into his mouth like a chef might lick the cream off a spatula. “Need I say more?”

Something inside of her snapped and she lunged at him, unable to deny herself a second night of pleasure. Gripping his face, she kissed him almost violently. He growled and wrenched open her legs, lifting her off the ground. Carrying her into the shower stall, he ripped open her shirt and dropped his mouth to her breasts.

Her legs wrapped tight around his hips, she arched back and gripped the chain on the wall. Cold water spilled over them and she gasped, but Cain was not deterred.

Wrenching down her pants, he tore every scrap of clothing off of her and buried himself in her heat. She cried out, gripping his shoulders as he plunged into her, pumping hard against her tender tissue that had not fully recovered from the night before.

She didn’t care if people might hear them or how roughly he handled her body. All she cared about was pleasure, hers and his.

He ravaged her against the wall. Bruised her and left her aching. He demanded more from her than any man ever had. And she gave him more than she’d ever given anyone else. She wasn’t sure what tomorrow would bring, but she made the decision then and there to make every last second of tonight count.

CHAPTER 22

“I brought you some lavender tea with honey and moon water, June bug.”

Juniper stared at the front door of her Aunt Venus’s friend’s apartment, as she lay plastered to the sofa, her face glued to the cushion with dried tears. “Thank you.”

Venus had been burning hibiscus and lavender all day. There had been no sight of Wilder, the guy who owned the apartment, but his presence remained in the unfamiliar smells and furniture of the small loft.

Her aunt perched by Juniper’s feet, her hands folded between her knees as her head hung in defeat. “I just…” She shook her head. “Every time I try to process this, my first instinct is to call Mabel. I can’t comprehend that she’s gone.”

A tear slipped from Juniper’s eye as Venus softly wept. Her aunts had been three sisters, and now there was only one. First her mother, who passed postpartum, and now Mabel. She couldn’t envision a world without Aunt Bel.

“It’s my fault,” Juniper whispered, sick with shame and regret.

“What? Oh, no, honey. This wasn’t anyone’s fault.” Aunt V’s compassion washed over her as she cleansed Juniper’s aura. “The shop was old. It could have been the wiring or a candle left burning. Goddess knows Mabel loved her incense. This wasn’t your fault.”

---