Page 92 of Timelessly Ours
“How was your night?” he asks when we step out into the hall.
Better when I walked out with you.
“It was nice being out with everyone again. Thanks for inviting me.”
“It was for selfish reasons.”
“Was it? How?”
“I like these things a lot better when you’re there. They’re almost unbearable without you.”
My heart slams against my chest. “Well, then you’re welcome.”
He chuckles then puts his hands in his pocket and I sense hesitation.
“What?”
“This is the part where I’m supposed to be a gentleman and walk you to your door before saying goodnight.”
“Still don’t want a gentleman,” I say, inching closer.
“What do you want, Nicole?”
“Right now?” I bite my lip and give him an honest answer. “A shower.”
He takes my hand. “Perfect.”
He wastes no time pulling me into his bedroom and I tingle all over. It smells like him in here. I could live in this room—so long as it always smelled like this. Like that clean, forest musk.
Leaving me in the middle of the room, he instructs me to undress while he starts the shower.
I strip off my jeans and fold them neatly on his bench. I’m about to pull off my blouse but hesitate. It’s not like he hasn’t already seen me topless, but this feels…so much more intimate. And I don’t know why, but I don’t want to be the one taking off my clothes.
Stepping into his bathroom, I’m surprised to see steam come through the shower, fogging up the glass doors.
“Looks hot,” I observe.
“Thanks. The shower is pretty warm too.” He winks, then scans me, noticing I'm still half dressed. “Need some help with that?”
I nod.
Stepping over to me, he pulls my arms up, his hands grazing my skin deliberately, sensually. Then lifts my hot pink blouse over my head, revealing my white silk bra.
He swallows. “The rest is all you. If I take anything else off…you won’t make it into that shower…alone.”
I’m about to tell him that I’m okay with that, but he covers my lips with a feathery kiss. “I’ll be right outside.”
I nod and watch him close the door behind him before removing my underwear. I never have to worry about privacy or respect with this man. He wants me to know I’ll always have it no matter how intimate we get.
And it’s beyond comforting.
Thirty minutes later, I find him sitting on his bed with a book and the sexiest pair of black-rimmed reading glasses. He’s in plaid pajama pants and no shirt.
I grip the knot of the towel around my bust and smile wickedly at the sexy sight of him. I feel like I’ll always smile at the sight of him.
He takes off his glasses and scans me the way he always does. Protectively and possessively. I move to his dresser and pull it open, picking up a vintage-looking tee with the name of an old band on it.
He watches me with what I think is appreciation. “I saw Grove talking to you earlier. Do I need to break his arms for putting his hands on you?”