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I took the showerhead and rinsed the shampoo from his hair. When the water ran clear, I reached for the bodywash and scrubbed his back.

Kit shifted, moaning softly as I massaged soap into his shoulders, flanks, pecs, and finally his ass. It was like an extended session of foreplay, but I loved getting to explore his body at my leisure.

Before, we’d always had sex on Kit’s terms—which were essentially the terms I’d requested. He took charge, and he got me out of my head, and he gave me mind-blowing pleasure, enhanced by the sense that only he could give me permission to have it.

But there hadn’t been a lot of opportunity for me to indulge in his body. I worked my way down, massaged his hamstrings, his calves.

I leaned in, pressing my lips to the back of his knee, the heat and humidity of the shower mixing with the floral scents of Dakota’s bodywash.

“Oh, god, I can’t take it anymore,” Kit said, turning and reaching for me.

He grabbed my arm, raising me up, and kissed me again. It was just a quick, hard press of wet lips. “Can I take you to bed?”

Kit asking was new. I hesitated, thrown a little by the request.

He stared into my eyes, waiting for my answer, and there was only one I could give. “Yes. Always, Kit. You don’t have to ask.”

He pushed my wet hair back from my face. “Maybe this time, I need to ask. Just to be sure. You always give me so much, Joey. I need to know you want everything we do just as much as I do.”

“I do,” I said. “I always have. There’s been nothing we’ve done that I didn’t want.”

He nodded, eyes on me. “Good to know. In that case, get your cute ass out of the shower and into my bed.”

My breath quickened, and I hurried out of the shower. There was a stack of thick, fuzzy green towels on a cabinet just outside the shower. I grabbed one and dried quickly, Kit doing the same.

Then he unlocked the door and hustled me down the hall to his bedroom.

It didn’t occur to me until we were safely closed into his room—Pogo snuffling at the door after Kit shut him out—-that if Dakota had come home, we would have given her another show.

Kit pulled me into his arms, our skin damp and clinging as it came together. He coasted hands down my back. “Love having you here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I loved having you in my bed the other night,” he murmured, dipping his head to brush his lips over my throat. I tilted my head, static sparks making me jolt with each touch of his mouth.

I thought of how I’d been jittery about the rain. The tears that had fallen when I’d told him my version of events the night of the accident.

“Not my sexiest moments.”

He raised his head to look at me. “Well, there’s more between us than sex. I felt closer to you that night.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Me too.”

“I almost told you that night, as we were going to sleep, that I forgave you. That I loved you.”

“Why didn’t you?” I asked.

“I wasn’t sure you’d believe me. It’d already been an emotional evening. I didn’t want you to bolt.”

I smiled sadly. “It’s still hard for me to believe, Kit.”

His forehead furrowed. “Tell me what I need to do to convince you. Tell me how to make up for the mistakes I’ve made with you.”

I shook my head. “No, you didn’t make any mistakes. There’s nothing you can do, not really.”

“Nothing?” he asked.

“Just keep loving me, even when I’m unsure?” I said. “Be patient with me. I do believe you mean it. I do trust you. I just…I don’t always understand why.”