Page 18 of Just Right
“And who’s that?”
Rowan doesn’t answer me. Instead, cocking his head, listening for something, he exhales softly when he hears it. “That was the first splash. Colt is very smart. A good male. If he can’t ease your fever one way, he’ll help with another. The tub should have enough water in it to start.”
That’s right. Tub. Rowan mentioned that before… but since when do the bears have a tub? And, more importantly, why haven’t they told me about it? Granted, I didn’task… I just assumed that, in a hidden cabin in the woods, luxuries like bathing indoors and running water were things I was going to miss. I didn’t want to jump into the river without my clothes on so I didn’t bathe.
But if there’s a tub…
There is. It reminds me of an old-fashioned clawfoot tub, made of… brass, I think? It’s large, more than enough room to fit Rowan in his human form, and maybe even when he’s shifted to his fur. I’m not sure. While both Finn and Colt enjoy shifting and letting me get used to their bears at night while we’re lounging in front of the fire, Rowan has been carefully staying in his skin, a spectator as I run my fingers through their fur, tweaking their adorable round ears, and curling up next to their heated bulk because, damn it, it’s so fucking cozy.
Bears. I get along withbears.
Who would’ve thought?
Well, except for Blackmoor, I guess…
Rowan is still carrying me bridal-style. Only after he peers into the tub, satisfied with how full it is so far, does he set me down on the grass. I’m not sure why he thinks I need a bath right now—unless my stink has caught up to me, but he seems too withdrawn and grumpily polite to point that out—but when he grabs the hem of my skirt, easing it up and over my head before I can protest, it’s clear that dunking me in the water is exactly what he plans on doing.
I barely have enough time to register how great it feels to have his hot hands on my even hotter skinner as he hoists me up again before he’s placing me into the tub.
Fuck. It’s cold. Icy. Definitely deep enough to make me gasp.
Rowan doesn’t let go. Crouching down behind the tub, he keeps his hands on my waist until I’m completely lowered into the water. I’m submerged up until my tits, leaving the tops of my breasts, my upper chest, and my head out of the water.
I whimper as the cold water—river water, I’m guessing, courtesy of Colt—seeps into my bones. I try to twist away, looking for an escape, but Rowan’s hold is firm. Unbreaking.
“Shit. That’s so cold,” I tell him, in case he doesn’t know. “Let me out.”
“No, Goldie.” His answer is just as unmoveable. “You need to cool down.”
“That’s what I was trying to do with Colt,” I bite out, swiveling my head so I can look up at him.
His jaw goes tight. “I would’ve thought that my brother was only stoking your heat.”
“Maybe,” I shoot back. “But it felt a whole lot nicer than this ice bath!”
Did I push my luck, yelling at the oldest brother? I’m not sure. Who knows? I might have even just challenged him, a challenge he can’t refuse, because instead of dunking me under so I really cool off, Rowan does that last thing I expect.
Releasing my waist, he shifts his hands until he’s cupping a boob in each of his hands.
A thumb brushes roughly over one of my nipples. Fingers knead the flesh of my underboob on the other one.
I gasp, throwing my head back until it’s resting against the edge of the tub.
Rowan gazes down at me. His molten gold eyes are darker than usual.Dangerous.
“Better?”
He has no idea.
Between the water doing what it was supposed to, cooling me down, and his hands squeezing me just enough to temper the raging need inside of me, I don’t feel anywhere as sick as I did moments ago.
Is that what makes me so reckless?
Probably.
Meeting his eyes, hoping he can see the truth in my invitation, I tell him: “It would be better if you joined me.”
Rowan’s big body stills. “Don’t tempt me, Goldie.”
