Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“Umm…” She glances over at the tub. “Are you really not going to join me?”
My dick twitches. Naked with her sounds like the perfect way to end this long-as-fuck day. But I have work to catch up on, and I want her relaxed.
“Not this time.” I slide some of the hair that has fallen out of her ponytail behind her ear. “Wine?”
“Yes, please.”
“Red or rosé?”
“Rosé.”
“I’ll be back in a few minutes. Go ahead and get in.” I touch my mouth to hers, then leave her in the bathroom, closing the door. When I get back a few minutes later, I knock and wait for her to call out, then go inside.
With the tub now filled with bubbles, I can’t see anything but her beautiful face and hair now tied in a messy knot on top of her head. “I’m pretty sure this is heaven.”
Smiling at her, I walk to the linen closet and grab the tray that lays across the tub—something Winter had me buy so she could watch her iPad when she is in the tub on occasion. After putting it in place and resting the wine glass on it, I squat at the side of the tub and dip my fingers into the water. “You okay in here for a bit?”
“Yes.” Her fingers find mine under the bubbles, the simple contact stirring something in my chest.
“I’ll be back.” I let her hand go, then stand and lean over the tub. “If you get done before I finish with work, just dig through my dresser and find something to wear.”
“Sure,” she agrees before I kiss her, licking into her mouth for a taste to hold me over, then leave her in the tub and dim the lights before I shut the door behind me.
After finishing up the work that I needed to take care of, I grab Anna and Grace’s case file and open it up. Even with their case no longer my top priority, since the state police have stopped informing us of any new information, I can’t stop thinking about it. There’s something I’m missing, and I know it’s here somewhere. I just have to find it.
The evening that Martinez and I went into Nashville to retrace the girls’ steps, we found the bar they had gone to. The two bartenders working were both certain they remembered them being there, but the video footage from that evening had already been deleted. They didn’t remember if the girls had spent time with anyone, if there was a man around.
Plus, they didn’t remember another officer ever coming in and asking the same questions we did. So, either the officer from the state police who had gone downtown never bothered with that bar, or he never made it a priority to talk to all the employees. Nor did he have the manager share the girls’ photo and have them get in contact if they knew something. Either way, they dropped the ball, and there is still a murderer on the loose.
Closing the file when the answer I’m searching for doesn’t jump out at me, I push back my chair and leave my office, closing the door. I think about leaving Emma to her bath a little longer, but the pull to be in her presence is too strong. Like before, I knock and wait for her to call out, then walk in the dimly lit room.
Her eyes scan mine as I walk toward the tub, her cheeks a pretty pink from the warm water. “Are you coming to join me?”
I shouldn’t. I should keep my clothes on. I didn’t lie earlier; as much as it’s killing me to wait for her, wait until she’s ready, I’d be happy just holding her tonight.
“Please?” She sits forward, causing bubbles to slide down her chest before mixing with the ones in the water.
I don’t say a word. Instead, I put my hand behind my head and strip off my shirt, then unbutton my jeans. She watches until I start to take off my boxers, and I almost smile as she looks down at the water. I step in behind her, then wrap my arm around her waist and pull her back toward me. “I’ve never taken a bath in here.”
“Really?” She looks over her shoulder, meeting my gaze. “Why not?”
“I don’t have the time—or I’ve never made the time.” I tangle my fingers with hers. “This is nice.”
“You sound surprised.” She laughs.
“I guess I am.”
“When was the last time you took a bath?”
“I don’t remember,” I say quietly. “I can’t remember if I took one as a kid either. Probably not, since I don’t think the trailer we lived in had one.”
“I know a little of your history. Rather, that you, Dayton, Clay, and Tucker lived with a foster family, and that’s how you all met,” she says quietly, like she’s telling me a secret in a crowded room. “How old were you when you moved in with them?”