“I believe you,” I whisper, aching for his words to be true.
He massages my whole body, washing me with gentle hands. Then he tips me backward enough to wet my hair before reaching for another bottle and pouring shampoo onto his palm. His fingers work it through my hair, his claws combing through my strands and scratching against my scalp until I melt into a puddle of goo. I sag backward against the side of the tub, held up by him, cared for, pampered.
I wish he’d climb into the bath and hold me, but this isstill heavenly. Luke’s greater age comes with a seriously hefty dose of chivalry. The age gap romances with only ten years’ difference don’t know what they’re missing. Every romance reader deserves an evening like this.
Even if they only get the one.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Skye
Luke flies me and Princess Buttercup to my cottage the next morning. He holds me in a bridal carry so that I can wrap both arms around her.
Flying through the air with him brings everything that happened yesterday roaring back to life. He made every fantasy I’ve ever had come true and then gave me an entire catalog of new sex fantasies to moon over for the rest of my days. And the way he took care of me after! I’m surprised I didn’t turn into a literal puddle of goo when he tucked me into bed after that bath.
Warmth flushes my body, and I squirm, which makes Princess Buttercup shift uneasily.
Her tail flicks, batting at Luke’s face in a way that’s got to tickle. “Cat,” he growls, “cease that this instant.”
“This is unnatural.” My familiar hunkers closer to me,turning her head away from the view of the ground racing by below. “Cats aren’t meant to fly.”
Thank god for the interruption before my thoughts could get any sexier. It’s hard enough being this close to him and seeing him be so calm about it all, as if holding me is no big deal after having mind-blowing flying sex.
Focus on the cat, Skye, I whisper-hiss inside my head. Much, much safer.
“We can use a pet carrier next time,” I say. Luke’s flying magic holds us more securely and is far safer than any plastic box, but maybe seeing something visibly surrounding her will help.
“No,” she yowls. “No carrier.”
“Is there anything that will make it better?”
A pair of cardinals darts out of Luke’s way, the male’s wings flashing crimson as he calls out warning cheeps to his mate. Luke must look like the largest hawkeverto them.
“A bird?” Princess Buttercup’s ears perk up. “I bet a bird would make me feel better.”
“I could arrange that,” Luke says.
“Please don’t.” I shoot him a beseeching look. “The last thing I need is an up-close and personal enactment of a nature documentary on my stomach.”
“You’re the one who asked.” She settles into a kitty pout, showing off a little grumpy face that’s absolutely adorable. “I wanted to see if they taste like chicken.”
I bite my lip, trying not to laugh, and share a glance with Luke.
The left side of his mouth lifts in his secret smile, the one I love so much, and my body lights up, my heart leapingagainst my ribs as if it wants to fly to him. Foolish squishy jelly heart, I whisper to it. Stop thinking yesterday meant more than it did.
My heart doesn’t listen, beating with hope.
He lands in my backyard, and Princess Buttercup leaps from my arms the moment we stop moving. I like to think he hesitates before setting me on my feet, his arms reluctant to let me go. His gaze drops to my mouth.
Does he want to kiss me? The thought sets my whole body alight. I strain upward, lifting onto my toes—
“There you are!” Mrs. Greely calls out.
Luke and I break apart, and I spin toward the fence separating our yards. “Mrs. Greely, hello.” Now that we’re closer to Valentine’s Day, she’s wearing a pink velour tracksuit, and Max’s collar has been changed to match.
The golden retriever snuffles at the fence, and Princess Buttercup runs over. “Hello! Can you talk, too?”
The dog gives a soft woof, and she sits and stares at him through the wooden slats, her tail flicking back and forth.
