Chapter 154. A Very Steamy Bath II
Chapter 154: 154. A Very Steamy Bath II
Maisie
There was a heaviness in his eyes. "There are days we fear we did the wrong thing, making that decision for you. Stealing that from you." His thumb creased over my pulse. "People are complicated, May. Different layers. Like onion bulbs."
A small laugh bubbled out of me. "You’re calling the infamous Exile Queen an onion bulb?"
His kissable lips twitched. "Maybe."
That heaviness returned and he continued, "You peel one layer, thinking you’ve reached the heart of them, only to find another. Some layers are dry and brittle. The scars, the mistakes, the ugly parts they hide from the world. Some layers have rot in them, but within, there may be something worth saving. Others are tender, almost sweet, the parts they protect the most fiercely. You cry when you cut into them. Not because they’re cruel... but because the truth stings. Because it’s real."
He reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from my damp cheek. "Margaret Hunt may be the most complicated bulb of all. But you do not have to peel everything tonight. You don’t have to decide if she’s worth knowing, or forgiving, or hating. You have your entire life ahead of you to pull back those layers, one at a time, at your own pace. Some bulbs are worth the tears. Some aren’t. The beauty is... you get to choose when, and how deeply, you dig."
My eyes stung with tears and my lips quivered.
He cupped my cheek, his thumb wiping the tear under my eye with surprising gentleness. "You’re so fucking cute when you get like this. Red as tomatoes."
I shoved him hard.
Mercer fell back with a startled yelp, water exploding around us as his massive frame crashed into the tub. I laughed breathlessly and tried to scramble back, but his hand shot out and caught my wrist. With one powerful tug, he yanked me down.
I landed with a splash, coughing soapy water, eyes stinging. "Prick!" I yelled, half choking, half laughing as I shoved at his chest.
He grinned up at me, water streaming down his face, dark hair plastered to his forehead. That rare, boyish smile made something dangerous flutter low in my belly.
And the mood shifted when I realized I was straddling him, knees on either side of his hips, my hands braced on his broad chest as he sat half-draped against the curved edge of the tub, water lapping at his waist.
My laughter sputtered and died.
Steam curled around us and he looked devastatingly handsome like this. Huge. Powerful. Water glistening on every carved muscle.
His green eyes had gone darker, fixed on me with a hunger that made my breath hitch.
I was completely naked. So was he.
And I was sitting close to his very hard, very thick cock.
The realization hit us both at the same time.
I froze.
Mercer’s hands settled on my hips, fingers flexing like he was fighting the urge to pull me closer. His voice came out rough, strained. "You should go to bed. It’s been a long night."
"I should."
Neither of us moved.
My hand slid up his chest, cupping his neck and finding his jaw. I brought my thumb to his mouth and smeared water across his lower lip.
Both our breaths hitched. Touching him felt electric, awakening every nerve inside me, every inch of me that knew I belonged to him.
Mercer hissed, snatching my fingers away from his face. "Stop."
The rejection burned like fire in my chest. "You don’t want me?"
He growled at me, yanked my wrist behind me and I gasped when he pushed his erection into my palm. "Does this feel like I don’t?"
He was hot and pulsing against my fingers and hear his heart. It was racing. For me. It went straight to my head like a direct shot of dopamine and want and I curled my fingers around him, jerking my wrist.
Mercer let out a strangled noise and wrenched my hand away from him. "I want more than that, Adams."
I blinked, not understanding.
"I want all of you," he said, eyes darkening at the edges. "I want you for breakfast while I make you breakfast. I want you for lunch. I want you for dinner. I want you for the little desserts in between."
My heart began racing, too.
His hand left my wrist and found my waist, holding me firmly as he looked deep into my eyes. "I want you in my bed when I wake up. I want you studying in my bed when I come home. I want your chaos in my life. Your clothes on my floor. Your scent all over my things. I want you driving me insane every single day. I want every fucking piece."
His gaze tracked mine as my chest rose and fell hard against his. "If you’re not ready for that, leave. While I can still let you go." His thumbs stroked up my sides gently. "Because I won’t be your distraction or the bastard you kiss when death frightens you and forget the next morning. I’m not built for that, Adams. None of us are."
I shivered when he raised his hand to my chin and drew my face close to his with such tenderness, I felt my heart swell.
But his words were anything but tender. They were hard and filthy. "When I start fucking you again, there will be no leaving. No more running. No more hiding behind that goddamn contract whenever things get too complicated for you. When I fuck you, I will own you. Completely."
I knew better. I knew something about these men made you soar so high, the fall afterwards would be devastating enough to shatter you completely.
And I thought if I kept my heart safe, I could never be hurt again.
But his words unraveled me anyway.
And goddess, I fell. Hard. And I crashed. And I burned.
My nails curled into his shoulder. "Kiss me, Mercer."