Bait: The Wake Series, Book One(118)

“Well what are we going to do about it, both of us smelling so damn awful like we do?”

“I suppose we should take that bath.” A rascally smirk spread across his face. I was proud to help put it there.

“We'll this is your place and you need it more, you should go first. I'll go get my bag from the car and—” before I could finish he'd wrapped me up in his arms and pulled me to his bare chest.

“You're not going anywhere. Except the bath tub with me.”

“But my stuff,” I queried. I had my luggage in my rental car that was parked in Casey's drive.

“Well, I guess that's tough shit,” he sweetly whispered into my hair above my ear. Then he lifted me off my feet and carried me down the long hall that led to the west side of the house.

He walked us into a large room, which I would think was the master bedroom of the house. “Is this your room?”

“Yeah, it was my mom and dad's when we were kids, but when they divorced, she moved into the spare room on the other side of the house, closer to our rooms. She said that she liked the view out to the back better and it has its own door to the patio.”

“Oh, this is big.” I blushed after realizing the double entendre.

“This room was the spare room for a long time. I moved my stuff in here, but when she was sick, I felt better sleeping down on the other hall, in my old room.”

That made my heart ache, so I placed a soft kiss to his neck. His breath hissed through his teeth and he stopped walking until I lifted my lips away.

Then he walked us into an impressive bathroom. It was as excellently furnished as the incredible kitchen was. Everything was white. The large soaker tub, white quartz double vanities, and a white-tiled floor. Everything else was chrome or glass. There was a giant walk-in shower on the opposite side from of tub and there was even a towel warmer.

I was impressed. I bet she had people wanting to visit all the time for the lavish spare bathroom alone.

He sat on the edge of the tub, I still straddled him, and he reached behind us turning on the oversized faucet. When his eyes met mine again I found the same smolder there that I remembered.

“Lift your arms. Unless you want to take a soak with your clothes on. And that’s okay. You are a married woman now,” he said in a joking voice, but it soured me.

Instantly, the thoughts in my head spun. They were familiar, too. The jabs.

I focused on a place on the wall, but I still raised my arms as he'd instructed. My body always did do exactly what he commanded of it. Some things never changed.

He took my shirt off but didn't let his eyes roam my flesh, instead they searched mine looking for the extra script to my inner dialog. He read me well.

“Hey, honeybee.” His voice was laced with remorse. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry.” He cupped my cheeks and rained kisses all over my face. Repeating, “I'm sorry.” Over and over. I felt the shift in his apology. It intensified with his mouth on me.

When he pulled away, his eyes full of emotion, he took a long look into mine. He looked uncertain, which probably mirrored me.

“I'm sorry, too.” I felt a buildup of tears begin to seep from my eyes. “I'm sorry for a lot of things,” I whispered and looked down at his chest.

Casey lifted my head, with shaky hands that were still at the sides of my face, and took a lengthy uneven breath.

“We've both said things, done things, and made mistakes,” he admitted.

He kissed my nose, then pulled back far enough to stare straight into me. “It doesn't mean that they were true, that we wanted to or that we won't do it again. We have right now, honeybee, and as bad as we are—we're good too. You're here. For me. I know you are. That means something. It means a lot.”

Hot tears streamed down my cheeks now, and with the outpouring of them I felt like I wanted to bare my soul.

“I don’t want to be married to him.” Then I sobbed. “I'm staying in California for a while. I don't want to go back, but I have to.” My chest constricted at the thought.

The water in the tub filled and began to lap at my feet that dangled in the basin. He stood, holding me and then turned to sit me on the edge. Casey, kneeling before me, ran a gentle hand down my shoulder and my back, stopping at the latch on the back of my bra. When it was unfastened, he slid the straps down my sides and then pulled it away, tossing it to the floor where my shirt laid.

“Stand up,” he said. “Let's get in this tub and we'll figure it out.”