Page 24 of Dirty Lyrics
When I peek back into the bedroom, I see him sliding my suitcases into his enormous walk-in closet, already busying himself with the task of unpacking for me.
Like it’s the most natural thing in the world for him to take over.
Like he’s not just reorganizing my life but staking a claim on it.
I mumble something about freshening up and shut the bathroom door behind me.
The space is massive, sleek, elegant—marble floors, gleaming fixtures, a vanity so wide it makes my little rental look like a dollhouse.
My old place wasn’t bad, but it was practical. This? This is luxury.
And when my eyes land on the oversized spa tub in the corner, gleaming under recessed lights, my body aches with the thought of sinking into it.
So why wait?
I strip down to nothing, piling my clothes onto the cool counter. For once, I don’t let myself think about the curves I usually try to hide.
My full breasts, the round swell of my hips, the soft belly that’s starting to hold more than just me.
I turn the faucets, and warm water gushes into the tub, steam curling into the air.
Curious, I pad barefoot to a tall cabinet beside the tub, tugging it open in search of bath salts or oils.
Something to make this moment feel indulgent, a little less like I’m rattling around in someone else’s world.
That’s when the doorknob clicks.
I freeze.
The door swings open, and there he is—Rico—filling the doorway like a dark, beautiful storm.
I gasp, spinning around, arms flying up in a useless attempt at modesty.
But who am I kidding? I’m a big girl. Curves, softness, all of me out there in the open.
My arms don’t cover half of what I want them to.
My skin burns, heat crawling up my neck.
“Rico—”
But he ignores my flustered attempt at modesty. His eyes drag over me, slow and scorching, leaving trails of fire everywhere they land.
The air between us crackles.
And for a beat, I can’t breathe at all.
“What are you doing in here?”
I find my nerve, but my voice still comes out shaky, and my arms are still crossed uselessly over my chest.
“This is the bathroom, isn’t it?” His tone is maddeningly calm, like I’m the one being ridiculous.
“Um, yes.”
“I have to brush my teeth.”
I blink at him, incredulous.
