I speak softly more in prayer than in confession.
“God save my soul because I want him. I want him to touch me. I want to drown in him. Does that make me a monster? A bad wife? A worse mother?”
I wonder if anyone hears me. If heaven has voicemail. What would Nana say if she saw me now?
Dane breathes in sharply.
I blink and meet his eyes through the mirror. “I said that out loud, didn’t I?”
“Yeah. You did.”
He steps in front of me, swallowing the space between us.
His scent wraps around me, warmth against everything I’ve lost.
“If I close my eyes,” I whisper, voice trembling, “Would you be paradise for me, Dane?”
He blinks slowly, that silver-blue ocean crashing into mine.
“I’d be anything for you, Penn,” he says. “But first, I need to warm you up. Let’s start with that bath.”
And as I look into his eyes, eyes like a full moon bleeding into midnight, I wonder if I’ve already stepped into something holy. Or if it’s just another shade of ruin wearing a softer face.
His hands moved beneath my arms, pulling me into him like I was something worth holding onto. His warmth bled into me, his touch trailing down my sides in reverence, like I was both sacred and breakable. When he reached my hips, his fingers curled softly into the flesh, grounding me.
My teeth clacked together as a shiver claimed me whole.
“I didn’t realise I was so cold until now,” I whispered, breath ghosting across his cheek.
“Penn,” his voice dropped, concern curling in every syllable, “I’m surprised you don’t have hypothermia.”
My hand trembled as I lifted it to his face, cupping his cheek. In the low bathroom light, he looked like something I didn’t know men could be gentle fire, all soul and simmer. His eyes burned into mine, dreams dancing in the dark behind them. A soul that wanted to love deeply, desperately. A soul I wasn’t sure I had the capacity to endure.
“From what?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.
“The raging waves,” he said. “Crashing over your tiny body, trying like hell to drag you out to sea.”
Fear trembled in his voice, thick and furious.
His hands moved with intent, slipping to the waistband of my soaked pants. With practiced care, he undid the button, sliding the zipper down with a slow hiss that felt like it sliced through silence. He crouched, peeling the heavy fabric down my thighs, lifting one ankle at a time. His hands were steady, but his touchwas sinful soft and reverent, like he was undressing something holy.
A smile broke across my lips uncontrollable and starved as I looked down at him.
“So attentive, Dane.”
My voice cracked over the chill that still lingered. His hands, his heat, his presence, they were thawing me slowly.
As his fingers traced fire up my calves to my thighs, I wondered what he’d taste like. I imagined white chocolate and cayenne sweet and dangerous, the kind of thing that lingers on your tongue and ruins you for anything else.
“Deep in thought, Penn?”
His words cloaked me, landing like soft rain on bare skin.
Standing there in black lace, stripped down to my damage and desire, I should have felt exposed. Instead, I felt wanted. Safe. Seen.
“Do you like me, Dane?” I asked, voice barely a thread.
His fingers paused at my hips, his eyes flickering with thought.
