Chapter 152
Still, they looked dead on their feet. Sleep–deprived, hungover,
hungry. “Go home,” I finally told them. “Eat. Sleep. Rest. If you show
up looking like corpses on Monday, I’ll bury you myself.”
They scattered, grateful. And as much as I wanted to send one
particular corpse home, too, I had to wait for his goddamn tutoring
session to end.
Christ. I hated those hours. Sitting in my office, waiting, while Noah
sat with that gorgeous tutor I’d picked for him–yes, I still wondered
why the hell I’d done that to myself–was torture, but it was her or
the new gay, overly enthusiastic intern the school had picked up this
year, so…. Yeah.
By the time I knew he was done, I headed straight for the locker
room. And there he was–done with tutoring, finally mine, standing
by his locker, ready to shower, and peeling off his shirt like he had all
the time in the world.
Patience gone, I cornered him before he could blink. My hand
slammed the locker shut.
“Forget that,” I ordered, voice low and sharp. “Grab your shit. Home.
Now.”
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Chapter 152
I stopped to pick up a few things for tonight and for tomorrow’s
surprise, and by the time I pulled into the drive, his bike was already
tucked neatly in the garage.
The second I walked in, it hit me like a wave of bliss–my favorite part
and
of the week. Smooth jazz humming low through the speakers, a
cocktail waiting on the side table exactly the way I liked it, sage
palo santo smoke curling lazily from the incense burner. And there, in
the glow of flickering candles, my beautiful, naked boy, kneeling with
his back straight and his blue eyes locked on me.
Home sweet home.
I dropped my bags right there on the floor, eyes glued to him as I
closed the distance. His gaze followed every step, full of hope and
heat. Before he could speak, I bent and kissed him hard–rough,
claiming, all teeth and hunger.
When I pulled back, I brushed my thumb over his jaw. “Now… how
about that shower?” I let the pause hang before smirking. “Or better
yet, a bath.”
His grin spread wide as he sprang to his feet. While I went to the
kitchen for two glasses of red wine, he hurried off, and soon I heard
the rush of water filling the tub. By the time I carried the glasses
upstairs, the bathroom was glowing warm and golden. Salts sprinkled,
candles lit, steam rising off the surface of the water. My boy knelt by
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Chapter 152
the edge of the tub, looking up at me with that eager smile.
I set the glasses on the counter and slid a hand down his chest,
teasing over his skin until he shivered. “Impatient, aren’t we?”
“I’ve been waiting all week,” he shot back, bold in that cheeky way he
only dared with me. “At least to be alone… and loud.”
I chuckled, peeling off my shirt slowly, just to watch his pupils darken
as the fabric dropped to the floor. His breath hitched when I
unbuckled my belt, the clink of metal loud in the candlelit room. By
the time I stepped out of my pants, he was practically vibrating with
anticipation.
“Get in,” I ordered softly, nodding at the tub. He slid in, the hot water
embracing his body, his gaze never leaving mine. I followed, sinking
down right behind him, letting the water swallow us both while the
jazz played faintly through the speakers.
I lifted the glass of wine, handing it over before taking my own. “To
us,” I murmured, then leaned forward, brushing my lips against his
again, slow this time, letting the steam and the music wrap us up in
the kind of paradise only we ever made.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
