Paisley follows me in, holding my hand like she can’t let me go. When the water is hot, we step in together. I wash her hair, something I’ve never done for a woman before. She shows me what to do, how to focus on her scalp, teaching me to condition her ends.
We’re exhausted after a long night, but being in the shower together, and knowing I don’t need a condom, invigorates us. Paisley turns around, propping one foot up on the built-in shelf seat, and shakes her rear end at me.
I point at her. “Siren.”
She laughs, then goes quiet.
I wrap a hand around her mouth when she comes, and she bites down on my finger.
This woman.
I know what I’m not supposed to say to her yet.
So, when she turns around and cuddles into me while the water washes away the evidence from between her legs, I say it silently in my head.
For a guy who believes in the power of words, I have to admit, these three are superior.
CHAPTER 41
Paisley
Waking up to ‘Klein the boyfriend’is, in a word,magnificent.
I must’ve run him ragged last night because he’s usually up before me. He never misses a chance to bring me coffee and remind me what a sloth I am in the mornings.
I peek at his prostrate form, his chest rising and falling in even intervals. He’s on his back, unfairly long eyelashes dusting his cheeks, mouth slightly parted. A small birthmark darkens a patch of skin on his ribs, and an even smaller mole dots the landscape beside it.
I want to know everything about this man. Map his body, learn his ticklish spots.
My response to him is strong, and if I’m being honest with myself, it has been since day one. Not just that first night he walked into my apartment when we were eighteen, but six weeks ago when I sidled up to his bar.
Was it only because I harbored hurt feelings? I don’t think so. Looking back, I see what I couldn’t in themoment. It wasn’t only me responding strongly to him, it was my soul.
My soul wants Klein.
My body? That’s a given.
And my heart?
I’ve been a terrible judge in the past, choosing Shane when he is almost a carbon copy of my father. I know Klein is nothing like Shane or my dad. Down in the depth of my heart, and in the shallows, I know this truth.
In his hands, my heart is safe.
What a relief. What a joy.
With one last longing look at the handsome man in my bed, I slip from under the covers and grab my robe. Tying it around my waist, I grab my phone and tiptoe from the bedroom.
The house is quiet. It is still early, the sun just beginning its climb into the sky.
Suddenly I have the urge to talk to my mom. I send her a text.
Are you up?
In the kitchen drinking coffee. Come over.
In my pajamas and robe, I hop on the golf cart and drive the short distance to my mom and Ben’s place.
I step inside without knocking. My mother sits at the kitchen island, wearing a lavender silk robe and holding a cup of coffee.
