Then I’m being moved, pulled off Ezekial.
I whimper from the sudden loss, but then I’m cradled against a cool hard chest, which eases all the burning aches. Especially the one between my legs. Which are very… wet.
I squirm in his arms, trying to get Kane to put me down, but he doesn’t budge. When I finally open my eyes, he’s staring down at me with a confused frown.
“I need to…” I glance at my thighs which are clamped tightly together. “Clean up.”
“We will,” he murmurs, lowering his face to brush his lips over mine in a chaste kiss.
Then another, just as soft but slower, longer. He continues the kiss as we flit, and I don’t open my eyes, I keep sinking deeper into the press of his mouth, the chill of his touch.
When we finally part, I realise we’re back in the apartment, in one of the large ensuite bathrooms.
Ezekial is crouched by the bath, the sleeves of his suit jacket rolled to the elbows. His biceps flex as he stirs the water in slow, steady circles and steam curls around us.
“Is that… for me?” I ask. “I can just shower. You don’t need to waste your—”
“I really need you to think about what you’re about to say, Jasmine,” Ezekial cuts in, gentle but firm, still facing the bath.
The steam in the room thickens, or maybe that’s the sudden shift in mood. It’s not anger—not exactly—but Kane’s grip tightens around me too.
Ezekial stands, walking towards us. “Go on,” he murmurs. “Finish your sentence.”
I swallow. “Showers are just… more efficient.”
“Efficient,” he repeats, smooth—until the bitten-off ‘t’. His silver gaze dims, dipping into something darker.
“I prefershowers,” I offer, more firmly.
“Because you don’t want to waste time?” He steps closer. “Because comfort is a luxury? Because you think you’re not worth the indulgence?”
“Erm…” I glance up at Kane. He doesn’t say anything. Just looks at me like I’ve missed something obvious.
Have I?
I didn’t have a bath in the club. Just a small, grey shower stall. Functional and perfect for me. But I’ve seen baths in films, the ones with glamorous women lounging in thick bubbles, legs smooth and shining.
Showers got you clean. Baths were… extra.
“I’ve never had a bath before,” I admit, voice small, almost foreign to me. And something tightens in my chest as I say it.
Shame? Vulnerability? I don’t know, but I shrink back into Kane’s hold.
Why is admitting that so—embarrassing? I bet thousands of people haven’t had a bath before.
“Oh,” Ezekial breathes, softer now. “Shit.” He steps even closer, brushing my cheek with warm, damp fingers. “We thought you were brushing it off, like you didn’t want the effort.” His gaze flicks to Kane, then back to me. “Not that you’d never been given it.”
Kane dips his chin, voice low against my hair. “We rushed in without thinking.”
“I didn’t think people could care this much about a bath,” I whisper, trying to make it a joke. But it comes out hoarse and uncertain.
Ezekial’s fingers keep stroking my cheek. “We care about you.Not the bath.”
Kane moves then, carrying me towards the tub, the scent of lavender building until I’m staring down at the milky water and thick foam of bubbles.
“It’s not going to work.” I look at Kane, then Ezekial, both men frowning at my words until I smile softly. “It’s not big enough for all of us.”
“This is for you,” Kane murmurs, brushing his lips over my temple. “Only you.”
