His hands rest on the rim of the tub instead of clenching, no trace of pout or glare left in his expression.
“Fine.” I yank my blouse over my head, then hook my thumbs in the elastic of my skirt and panties, shoving them down my legs until both items pool on the floor. “Slide forward.”
“No.” He takes my hand, holding me steady as I climb into the tub, my ass nestling between his thighs.
His arms band around me, locking me in.
“Koby,” I sigh, head tipping back against his shoulder. “This defeats the whole purpose. How am I supposed to massage you now? How am I supposed to help you relax?”
“Oh, I’m relaxing.” His lips brush my ear. “You just don’t understand that holding you is the only thing that calms me down.”
Warm water curls around us, lapping at the rim as I brush my fingers along his forearms locked across my stomach. His pulse thrums under my touch, still too fast, but not as wild.
I draw small circles into his skin and trace the lines of his tattoos until his breathing evens out against my neck.
This isn’t how I pictured calming him, but if sitting here, wrapped in his arms, is what eases his spiraling, then I guess we both win.
***
Running my palm across the mirror above the sink, I wipe off enough steam to see the stranger I’m turning myself into. The hair dryer hums quietly, failing to drown out the conversation from the bedroom.
It also doesn’t stop Koby peeking his head through the door every goddamn minute.
It’s barely past seven in the morning, but Carter’s already here, his low voice filtering into the bathroom as he tries convincing Koby to head downstairs for breakfast.
He won’t, of course, but judging by the creaking floorboards, he’s pacing, so he needs something to do.
“I could use a cup of coffee,” I call out.
“On it, hellcat!”
I smirk, brushing my hair before twisting the strands into a half-up, half-down ponytail. I tie it off with a pale-yellow ribbon that matches the dress I’ve chosen. My cheeks are too pale, so I pinch some color into them, my stomach turning with how easily I morph into Anton’s property.
Not even five minutes have passed before Koby’s back, setting a steaming cup beside the sink.
“You okay?” he asks, looking me over from head to toe.
“Yes, still okay.”
Carter leans in the doorway, holding a cup of his own, a deep eleven between his brows. “You’re not FaceTiming him, Leilani. Why bother with the costume?”
“What if he asks to see me?” I smooth the dress, fixing the hem over my thighs. “If he asks, I’ll be ready. If he doesn’t, then I’ve only wasted an hour playing dress-up. I’ll survive.”
“Fair enough.” Carter nods.
“There’s nothingfairabout this,” Koby grits out. “I’m tearing that off you the second you end the call.”
I force a believable smile to ease his nerves even though I’m a wreck inside. “I didn’t expect anything else. Just wait until Carter leaves, okay? We don’t want to scar him for life.”
“Too late for that,” Carter shoots back, hiding a smirk behind his coffee. “Koby’s stunts scarred me a long time ago.”
“Sonot the time for this, Boss,” he mutters, moving behind me. “Please don’t lock me out, baby.”
I coat my lips with pink gloss, ignoring his dark eyes drilling into the back of my head like he’s willing me to turn and sayfine, you can stay.
“I am locking you out.” I pinch my cheeks again, then fuss with the ribbon. “If you’re here, I can’t pull it off.”
“He’ll believe you no matter what. I want to be here.”
