Page 31 of Vibes

There’s a pretty good chance we’ll have to talk to the cops again soon. Especially since I think Iris should press charges given the fact he broke in.

I guide Iris in once the tub is full, and she shoots me a look. "You aren't getting in?"

"This is just for you, wallflower," I say, nodding to the water. "I'll be right back."

She catches my hand before I can go very far. “Where are you going?”

“I just need a moment,” I admit, and that’s the truth. I need space. Once I shifted, I was fully prepared to keep hitting Dylan until he passed out so I could check on my wallflower. It didn’t matter to me if he woke up or not; she was my focus. Now that I’m certain she’s safe here, I need a moment to breathe.

“Why did you do that?” she asks more quietly, stopping me before I can turn away. My brows knit together as she sinks into the water, letting the bubbles cover her up. “Why did you hit him so many times? One was enough. Two took him down. But you kept going.”

I lean over the tub, catching her chin gently between my fingers as I speak. I hope that she really hears me, and takes what I say to her to heart. “When you find something precious, you’re supposed to protect and cherish it. Not throw it away so someone else can pick up the pieces. If he couldn’t see how lucky he was to have you, then it seemed fitting for him to meet his end because of you.”

13 Acceptably Acceptable

Iris

I let Lachlan scrub shampoo into my hair and wash it out, repeating the process with the conditioner. The scent is masculine and unfamiliar, but I imagine this is how his sheets smell. It doesn’t distract from the severity of his words, or the intensity of his eyes as he spoke to me. I know we’ve gotten close because of our unusual circumstances, but the fire his words ignite inside of me can’t be healthy. I can’t be falling for the hockey player that spent days as my sex toy. There’s no way that’s a healthy building block to start a relationship on.

I’d already used the soap while he took a breather, needing to scrub away any memory of Dylan. He didn’t touch me as much as he could have, didn’t do all the awful things to me that almost happened, but it doesn’t set my mind at ease. I scrub until my skin turns red, and it still doesn’t feel like I’m doing enough to get the feel of him off me.

Dylan lingers like an unwanted memory. His eyes, his possessiveness, all good things in the right type of man but scary when I think of him.

“No one’s getting anywhere near you here, wallflower,” Lachlan tells me, finally dropping his hands from my head to massage my shoulders. He took over my hair after I washed my skin, taking the loofa before I continued washing myself. Since then I’ve just kind of let him guide me through the motions while I stare at the wall.

The bathtub itself isn’t overly extravagant, but it’s a nice luxury when I expected to speed through a shower. Now that the water is tepid at best, and I’ve been thoroughly cleaned, I want to do more than replay the memories of this morning.

As I turn towards him his hands fall away so he can study me. He’s wearing things from his dresser instead of the rumpled clothing he stuffed into his bag, his hair knotted back at the crown of his head, and he looks more like himself than he has since he transformed in my bedroom. Even the clothes he brought to my apartment didn’t seem like the ones he usually wears for comfort, unlike what he’s wearing right now.

When I speak, my voice is hoarse. I’m not entirely certain how long we spoke with the officer, but the morning blurred into afternoon at one point. “What time is it?”

He hesitates. “Last I looked, just past four.”

It’s almost over. He’s human now, and I got the orgasm Cora’s lame spell requires, so all that’s left is the apology, right? When I was primping hours ago I pictured this day going very differently.

“Iris,” he says, interrupting my tirade of thoughts. When I refocus, Lachlan is reaching into the water, ignoring my skin, before he pulls the drain free. “Come to bed.”

He helps me stand and wraps me in a dry towel that unsurprisingly has the Denver Lords hockey logo on it. I just smile and shake my head when he scoops me up, wetting his clothes, and turns towards his room.

“Lachlan—”

His lips press to mine, silencing the protests, and I let him carry me out of the bathroom. He sets me on my feet instead of laying us down, and I’m highly aware of everywhere his hands roam as he kisses me and towels me off. He’s taking special care to run the towel across my breasts, his fingers playing with my nipples beneath the fabric before he leans back.

His dark eyes burn into me, and I feel that familiar heat building inside. “Tell me to stop.”

Oh. He means because of this morning. Even after I dangled freedom in front of him just last night, he’s not going to be a dick and push me into anything.

If only I cared about self-restraint right now.

I jump on him, locking my arms behind his neck and deepening the kiss as I drag him down to my level. He growls beneath my lips, and his arms tighten around me again.

“Just had to be sure, wallflower,” he mutters, barely pulling back long enough to speak between kisses as he slides his attention to my neck. I sigh as he goes lower, needing a comforting touch after how terribly today’s gone so far, and fist his hair as he drops lower.

He’s back to toweling off my mostly dry skin, the heat in the house helping to keep me from shivering as he kneels in front of me. I sigh as he kisses across my stomach, his hands traveling up one leg then the other as I kick them further apart.

“Trust me,” I say, letting out a breathy gasp when he moves to run his hand over my pussy, his fingers tracing the piercing at my clit. “I’m very fucking sure about you.”

Lachlan groans, staying kneeled before me, and when both his hands spread my legs wider, I realize he’s dropped the towel and stopped pretending he’s only trying to dry me off. My clit throbs, missing the brief touch he gave me before he moved on, and I’m highly aware that he’s not using his hands to tease me the way I want him to.