Page 65 of In Full Bloom

I’d forgotten about the bath. Seeing her standing on my porch in those jeans—she was right, I really do appreciate them—had wiped my brain.

I clear my throat. “No. It’s for you.” Clearing my throat hadn’t worked and my voice still came out rough.

She blinks at me and I wait for her reaction. Was I being presumptuous? Have I overstepped?

She crosses the room in a few long strides, reaches up and presses her mouth to mine. It takes me a moment to catch up on what’s going on, then I thread my fingers through her long hair and open my mouth to kiss her back. She immediately slides her tongue against mine and makes a sound in the back of her throat.

She breaks off as quickly as she started, then presses a single chaste kiss to my cheek. “Thank you. I love baths,” she whispers in my ear.

“Good, I was hoping so.” I slide my hand from her hair and instead tangle my fingers with hers, then lead her back to the bathroom. I check the bath temperature and add a little more hot water. I press a kiss to her cheek when I’m done. “I’ll leave you to it.”

“Dallas,” she says, not releasing my fingers. “Will you stay? Please.”

“This isn’t a way for me to get your clothes off,” I say. “I just thought you’d like it.”

“And I do. We also both know you don’t need a bath as a guise to get my clothes off. I’ll take them off for you anytime, cowboy.” She gives me another one of her looks that sends blood rushing south and weakens my knees. “But aren’t we supposed to have a conversation?” She pulls a face like Sadie does when I ask her to eat kumara—her least favourite food.

“Yeah, that was supposed to be the point of tonight. But we can do that after your bath if you want.”

“No, stay. If you want. We can talk while I wallow about inthere.” She steps close to me again and trails her fingers down my chest. “At least help me get ready for it.” She bites her lip and this time it’s not from nerves.

My hands find her hips, then the hem of her t-shirt and when she raises her arms I pull it up over her head. The hot pink sports bra is even better than my foggy memory from before. I reach out and run my fingers across the fabric, causing Katie to shiver when my skin brushes hers.

My fingers slip to the band of the bra and slide underneath.

“This part isn’t going to be sexy,” she mutters. “You’re going to have to wrangle it off me.”

I press a kiss to her cleavage, then commit to removing her bra.

She’s right. I do have to wrangle it but when it’s off over her head I toss it to the ground. “You’re wrong. Everything you do is sexy.” I press my mouth to the spot just below her ear and gently suck. She moans and sways. I chuckle and pull away.

I drag my fingers down her chest, between her breasts and across the smooth expanse of her belly, pausing on the button of her jeans.

A nod from her and I flick it open, then slide the zipper down. It’s all playing out in slow motion, as I begin to work the jeans over her hips.

“You were right about the jeans,” I murmur. “Spectacular.”

Katie laughs, a little breathlessly. “Liv and I call them my booty jeans.”

“I can see why.” I use the slightest pressure of my hand against her hip to turn her around, admiring her ass and thestretch of denim over it. I palm the full curve and feel her press back into my hand.

Another tug on the waistband of her jeans and they slip down, taking her underwear with them. A guttural sound escapes me.

“Like what you see, cowboy?”

“Oh, fuck yes.” I can’t help myself and bend down, nipping at her ass, then pressing a kiss to the spot, now slightly reddened by my teeth. “We need to get you in that bath before I forget how to talk, let alone what we’re supposed to be talking about.”

Katie laughs, the bright sound echoing around the tiny bathroom. Then she pushes my hands out of the way and strips her jeans off. She stands naked in front of me, the most glorious sight I’ve ever seen. “Care to join me?” She reaches out and pops two buttons on my shirt before I have a chance to respond.

I lift my injured arm. “Probably shouldn’t get this wet.”

She shrugs. “We’ll be careful. But your choice.” She turns away and steps into the bath, hissing slightly.

“Is it okay?” I ask, suddenly worried I’m going to boil her in my over hot bath.

“It’s perfect,” she says, scooping her hair into the messy pile on her hair and securing it with a hair tie from her wrist. Then she slowly sinks down into the bubbles.

When all that’s left visible of her is her head and shoulders, my brain reengages.

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