Page 91 of Into the Woods

Court eyed me in the tub, where I was submerged under several thick inches of bubbles. When he’d offered to run me a bath, I hadn’t known it would have bubbles. Or that Court had no idea what a proper water-to-bubbles ratio was. Still, he’d left me in bed and turned on the water before coming to get me and depositing me in the bath with strict instructions to relax.

A girl could get used to this.

Except for the scowl on his gorgeous face, everything was awesome.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, sitting up. The bubbles clung to my skin, blocking my breasts from view.

“Nothing,” he muttered, placing a stack of folded clothes on the counter. He turned back to me, forcing a smile that didn’t smooth away the frown lines on his brow.

“Court,” I warned, lifting an arm to lean on the side of the tub. “Please don’t lie to me.”

He sighed. “Your phone keeps ringing.”

I frowned. “You want me to put it on silent?”

“It’s Eric,” he spat, like the man’s name alone was poison in his mouth.

“Oh.” I sat up straighter. In my little blissed-out bubble of the last twelve hours, I’d forgotten that I was kinda, sorta in hiding from a guy who was kinda, sorta my boyfriend. Well, in his mind. “I guess… I mean, should I talk to him?”

“Fuck no,” he retorted. “I never want you speaking to that prick again. And, if things go my way, he and the rest of his sick-fuck friends will be dead in a week.”

I winced, because I knew he wasn’t kidding. For some guys—hell, most guys—a death threat would just be annoying male posturing. For Court? It wasn’t an idle threat.

Huh. I’d never really considered the fact that the guy I’d fallen for had killed people.

I let that thought tumble over and over in my head.

Oddly enough, I couldn’t bring myself to care. Maybe because I knew he only killed people who deserved it. I didn’t think that would hold up as an excuse with the police, but as long as he wasn’t caught…

Yeah, I could live with that.

Court leaned against the counter, crossing his legs at the ankles. He still hadn’t put on a shirt, which was totally fine in my book. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get tired of looking at that tan skin stretched over hard muscles. I had the urge to lick every divot I saw, mapping his skin with my mouth to learn all its secrets.

He had put on a pair of pants; however, they were gray sweatpants—AKA God’s gift to womankind—and they barely stayed up on his narrow hips. When he leaned back on the counter, the material clung to the curve of his long cock. It was a thing I wanted to see again and again.

“My eyes are up here, gorgeous,” he teased.

I didn’t lift my gaze, watching in fascination as his dick went from soft to half-hard before my eyes. “I’m well aware of where your eyes are.”

Chuckling, he pushed off the counter and sauntered to me with some major big-dick energy. He paused beside me, and I had to tilt my head all the way back to see him until he sank onto the edge of the bathtub. Without invitation, he dipped his hand under the bubbles and cupped my right breast, giving it a firm squeeze.

I moaned, my lashes fluttering as I felt the correlating pulse of need in my clit.

“I need to ask you a question,” he said, slowly pulling away.

It took a second to focus my attention back on him. I already missed his touch. But something in his tone leached the arousal from my system. “Okay.”

His expression was carefully schooled into blankness. “How would you feel if we left Paris tonight?”

“What?” I frowned, not sure I’d heard him correctly.

Sighing, he slid off the edge of the tub and sat on the floor so we were at eye level. “I talked to Rook and Bishop,” he started, his tone low and serious, “and they agreed they could handle things until Royal could get here. He could take my place, and we could leave. Get you out of here before the auction.”

“You’re really that worried?” I watched him closely.

Concern wrinkled his brow before he got it in check. “I really think I don’t want you anywhere near this shit when it goes down. We can leave, go back home to California—”

“I can’t go back right now,” I interrupted him, but made sure to keep my tone gentle. I lifted a hand, sloshing water and bubbles as I reached for his fingers. “Why are you saying this now? What’s changed since yesterday?”

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