He pulled his t-shirt off and bent down to kiss me, a satisfied kiss without the demand of before. “We should get you cleaned up.”
My hands locked around the back of his neck, holding him close enough. “Want to help?”
“Always.”
The shower was a large wet room, enough space for two, even when one was Killian’s size. He turned on all the jets and the shower head, soaking us thoroughly and then taking the shower gel I’d unpacked in there and started to soap me, taking his time as his hands ran over my skin. It was intimate and powerful enough to make me feel as if I’d had all the regrets and worries accumulated from the last thirteen years exhumed from my memory, creating relief and making me feel lighter.
I returned the favour, stretching up to wash down his back and biceps, both of which were covered with tattoos: mandalas, pictures and writing in an ornate script. I tried to set each one to memory, something to think about and see in my mind’s eye when I lay in bed trying to get to sleep.
“Your tattoos,” I said, not knowing what else to say but needing to acknowledge them.
“Do you like them?”
I nodded, my fingers tracing the ink on one of his pecs. “I think they’re beautiful.”
He laughed, the sound echoing in his chest. “They’re manly. Or I’ll take sexy.”
“I take it beautiful’s too feminine?”
“This is beautiful.” His hands cupped my breasts and then dropped to my ass, his fingers brushing up to where my tattoo was: a poppy inked in shades of black. “Why this?”
“Lest we forget,” I said. “I had it done when you started your first deployment.”
He took a step back and regarded me. “Why?”
“Because I worried that you wouldn’t come home and I needed something on me to remind me of you, so I’d never forget.”
“But you can’t see it.” It was on my lower back, the stem curling down towards my ass.
“I can in the mirror and I know it’s there. I’d like to get more; I’ve just not decided what yet.” He turned me round and dropped to his knees, kissing my tattoo.
“This is perfect. You’re perfect.”
I shook my head. “I’m not Killian. I’m truly not. And you’ll realise that too.”
“No,” he said, turning off the showers and grabbing the towel, pulling it round me. “Whatever it is you need to tell me I will understand because I know you and I know that whatever it was, you did it because it was what you had to do.”
I nodded, only hoping that he was speaking the truth.
Chapter Fourteen
Killian
Water seemed like the best solution as Claire finished getting ready upstairs. After the shower we’d laid down on the bed and fallen asleep, wrapped in each other and a sheet. I had a habit of falling asleep in between showering and having to go out, so I’d set an alarm giving us an hour to dress before Nick was picking us up to go to Katie’s awards dinner.
I wasn’t one for over-thinking situations. I considered the facts I had and made a decision. If I made the wrong one, then I had done so honestly from the information I had at the time. Nothing about what Claire and I had done seemed wrong. When she’d been woken by the alarm she’d stretched into me, moving arms sleepily around me and closed her eyes again, muttering something about not moving. When I finally made her move, she’d smiled, her expression soft and I couldn’t see a hint of regret in her face.
I wanted to go up there, tell her our plans had changed, and spend the evening in, watching TV, eating take-out and just talking. Instead I needed to wake up, put my professional head on and help Nick take care of Katie at the awards dinner. I would have rather Claire wasn’t there, preferring her to be at home where I knew she’d be safe as I didn’t trust Dean Lacey one tiny fucking iota. The veiled threats he’d made today had made my blood run hot enough to melt the arctic and I had to keep telling myself that I couldn’t wrap her up in a box in my safe room until it all blew over. Plus, Claire being recognised with Katie would start to publicize her and Lacey’s split which Vanessa thought was good way to start to try to manipulate the inevitable media interest.
She wore a black dress that was moulded to every curve of her body, curves which had been there when she was younger but were now softer, more prominent. I’d appreciated them a hell of a lot when I had her naked beneath me, the image of her bare and covered in my release was one I was going to think about a shit ton when she wasn’t there. “You look amazing,” I said. “How are we playing this?”
She tipped her head to one side. “What do you mean?”
“Am I there as your bodyguard or your boyfriend?” I needed to know. I needed to know how to play it, whether to keep my distance and watch like a bird of prey stalking for dinner, or whether I could be close and be that wall between her and anyone she didn’t want to be near her.
“How do you want to play it?” There was a slight smile that curved her lips.
“I’d rather be your boyfriend. But will it cause any issues with your brothers?” There was no point telling her anything other than the truth.
