I’d already made her come once with my mouth, lapping up the combined taste of all of us until she was a trembling, whimpering mess. Then I’d fucked her against the wall, slow and hard, just to feel her clench around me when she came again.
“Alright, Firecracker,” I grunted, my voice rough. “Time to actually get clean.”
She let out a weak, breathy laugh as I lowered her to her feet. Her legs were shaky, and she had to brace a hand against the wall to steady herself. I took my time, soaping up a washcloth and running it over every inch of her skin. It was less about getting clean and more about claiming every part of her, marking her with my touch, my scent. She just stood there and let me, her eyes half-closed, a contented little smile on her face.
When we were done, I shut off the water and grabbed a fluffy towel from the rack. I lifted her out of the tub, setting her gently on the bathmat before I began to dry her. I was methodical aboutit, rubbing the soft cotton over her skin, starting with her arms and moving down her body.
She was so relaxed and at ease, I didn’t think I’d ever seen her drift like this. The cat that got the cream. A deep, pretty flush colored her cheeks and the tops of her breasts, a flush that had nothing to do with the heat of the shower and everything to do with me.
I knelt in front of her, drying her legs, and she giggled. It was a light, happy sound, full of an exhaustion so profound it had tipped right over into giddiness.
“What’s so funny?” I asked, looking up at her and utterly enjoying the view.
She shook her head, her damp hair tumbling around her shoulders. “Nothing,” she said, but then another giggle escaped. “Okay, not nothing. I’m just thinking.”
“Dangerous,” I teased, running the towel up the inside of her thigh. She shivered.
“I’m just thinking,” she said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “that I am going to be walking funny for the rest of the day.”
I let out a low, triumphant chuckle. “Good,” I said, pressing a soft kiss to her hip bone. “A reminder.”
“A reminder of what? That you’re an animal?” she shot back, but there was no heat in it. Only affection. “That you’re all animals?”
“That you’re mine,” I corrected, my voice going low and serious. I stood up, tossing the towel aside and pulling her into my arms. Her skin was still warm, her body soft against mine. “Ours. And that I take care of what’s mine.”
She looped her arms around my neck, tilting her head back to look at me. Her eyes were shining, a brilliant, happy blue in the soft light of the bathroom. “You’re all ridiculous,” she murmured, but she was smiling.
“Maybe,” I conceded, leaning down to kiss her. It was a slow, deep kiss, a kiss that tasted of satisfaction and something more. Something that felt a whole lot like forever. “But you love it.”
“God help me,” she breathed against my lips. “I do.” Another soft sigh after our kiss. “Voodoo?”
“Hmm?”
“You said you loved me last night.”
A warm feeling settled in my chest. Once upon a time, the idea of saying those words to a woman would have been anathema. What the hell did I have to offer to one? But Grace? Grace had been filling in all the gaps in my soul since we rescued her all battered and bruised. Since the night in a hotel room when she let me help her forget for a little while…
“Yes.”
“Did you mean it?” All at once, I wanted to kick myself, she shouldn’t have to ask me that.
“Yes,” I told her, dipping my head to press a softer kiss to her lips, an oath, a promise, a dare.
Her eyes shone as she stared up at me. “I love you so much.”
“You have no idea how much I treasure that, and you.” I scooped her up and kissed her longer this time. Taking the time to fully explore her lips, her mouth, to savor and to taste. “You’re the best damn thing that ever happened to me, Firecracker.”
Then, because they’d let us have this time, I nudged the door open and carried her back into the bedroom. The three of them were still there, propped up against the pillows, watching us. There was no anger in their eyes, no resentment. Just a deep, simmering heat and a measure of their own hunger. They looked like they’d just watched the main event and were waiting for the encore.
I laid Grace down in the middle of the bed, right in the space they’d left for her. She landed with a soft little oof, sprawling outlike a starfish. She looked at them, a slow, wicked grin spreading across her face.
“Well?” she said, her voice husky and full of challenge. “What are you all waiting for?”
And just like that, the exhaustion was gone. The tension was gone.
I settled back on the edge of the bed, watching her. Grace was a fucking vision, sprawled out in the middle of our makeshift bed, her skin flushed and glowing, her hair a wild, damp tangle around her face. She looked thoroughly, beautifully, and completely fucked. And she was smiling. A real, genuine, ear-to-ear smile that made my chest feel tight.
Bones was the first to break the silence, his voice a low, cautious rumble. “You sure you’re up for this, Dollface?” He was always the one to worry, the one to check the margins, to make sure she wasn’t going to break.
