I check on Seraphine while I wait, then browse her apartment. It’s different than when I was here last. More comfortable.Lived in. It doesn’t feel as empty as it did when I walked in that first time. I’m happy for her.
The staff are knocking on the door twenty minutes later and I am thoroughly impressed. It’s the same doorman I ran into earlier and I give him a hefty tip. I’m not sure how much was in my wallet, but likely a couple hundred. His eyes nearly bug out of his head, and he stutters something about not being able to accept it, but I close the door in his face and hurry to make the tea. When it’s finished, I bring it to her.
“I should have had them bring a bathtub tray as well,” I comment as I look around at where to place the tea. I hadn’t thought this far ahead.
“I can’t believe you made them get tea in this weather,” she says humorously.
She’s submerged in the water up to her shoulders, the water rippling and showing off her collarbones. Gorgeous, they are. I never knew a collarbone could be so sexy, but hers is.
“How do you feel?” I ask, placing the mug on the vanity. I’ll reheat it for her once she’s out.
“Much better.”
I take the vanity bench and bring it to the edge of the tub, then roll my sleeves up to my elbows, picking up the bath sponge from the basket hanging off the side. I dip it into the water, then squeeze it out over her chest. She sighs contentedly.
“Tell me what happened. How did you end up here with him when you were scheduled for dinner?”
I run the sponge along her chest and neck before dipping it deeper into the water and over breasts. Her nipples turn to points, and I ache to suck on them.
“We argued at dinner. He was being ridiculous, so I got up and left mid-meal. He didn’t like that, so he showed up here.”
With the sponge still in my hand, I run it beneath her breasts, letting my thumb brush along her tight nipples. I do this over and over, slowly, waiting for her response, until I drop the sponge and pinch her nipple instead. Her back bows, pushing into my touch, the water rippling around her.
“Seeing him act like this makes me feel like a failure,” I admit again.
I’d never felt like a failure in my entire life. Not when it comes to work, not when it comes to my son, and not even when it came to my failed marriage. Yet, the son part of that is changing. How had I not noticed the kind of man my only child had turned into?
“You’re not a failure,” Seraphine says softly, the same way she did last time, her hand moving to rest on top of mine. I’m still playing with her nipple with no plan to stop.
“I raised him better than this,” I say, and not for the first time. But I did raise him better than this and he knows the respect I have and expect for women. I’ve done nothing in my life to make him think the way he is acting is okay.
“I know you did.” I meet her gaze and see the truth there. She believes me. “This isn’t your fault. The way Harrison behaves isn’t your fault.”
I nod absently, not sure I believe that but maybe I will one day.
“Elliot?”
“Yeah, sweetness?”
She pushes my hand lower, down her soft stomach and between her legs.
“Make me come, please.”
“As you wish.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Seraphine
With my body thoroughly relaxed, both from the hot water and the orgasm, I carefully get out of the tub. Elliot helps me dry off, and with the towel wrapped around me, I go into my bedroom to find something to wear. He stands in the doorway, watching me. It doesn’t make me feel uncomfortable. Being around him is slowly becoming normal. I’d questioned it for some time, but now I think it’s time to accept it.
There’s nothing wrong with what we’re doing, even if the intention was nefarious at the beginning. It isn’t now. Now, feelings are involved. I’m not sure what Elliot will think about that, but there’s nothing I can do about it now. It’s his fault, anyway. Coming into my life and being all caring and sweet. Sticking up for me, making me feel good about myself, and making me feel good. Yeah, it’s definitely his fault that I feel like this.
I pick out a pair of soft lilac pajamas. The thin pants are high waisted, and the tank is a crop top. It’ll show off a little bit of skin, while hopefully not being obvious. Though, I have a feeling no matter what I wear, Elliot will have a comment about it.
“You could have stayed naked,” he comments when I turn around. His lips turn up in a smirk and I can’t help but smile.
“Then you won’t be able to peel these off me later.”
