Two Can Play (Celeste and Dominic) novel Chapter 261

Chapter 261

She looked up at me, her eyes glistening. “Maybe my past is what compelled me to help Kingsley. Maybe I saw my father in him.

“If you want, I can have Sparrow take everything back from those people. Every last cent.”

“No.” She shook her head firmly. “Perhaps what Neel toward them is not hate anymore but indifference. I want nothing to do with them. Going after them would only wake old wounds, and my mother might become depressed again. If my father were still alive, I would have fought. But now, what would be the purpose? Unless one of them crosses me and pushes me to act, I would rather pretend they do not exist.”

I hugged her tighter, breathing in the scent of her hair, feeling the steady rhythm of her heartbeat against mine.

“I want to shower,” she said.

“Then I will bathe you.”

She tried to protest, but I refused to relent, chasing her arguments with soft kisses until she surrendered with a laugh and a shake of her head.

I prepared the Jacuzzi with fragrant lather, the steam rising in gentle curls, the soft light casting a warm glow across the bathroom. I undressed her slowly, taking my time with every button, every clasp, every inch of fabric that fell away from her skin. I carried her to the tub and lowered her into the warm water, watching her body sink into the foam, her skin glistening under the soft light, her eyes fixed on mine.

I washed her with deliberate care, my hands moving over her shoulders, her arms, her back, her breasts, her stomach, her thighs. Every now and then my eyes would lift to meet hers, and she would be watching me with an expression I could not quite name, something soft and vulnerable and trusting all at once.

I washed her hair, working the shampoo through the long strands, massaging her scalp with my fingertips until her eyes fluttered closed and a soft sigh escaped her lips. I rinsed her thoroughly, letting the warm water cascade over her skin, washing away the foam and the exhaustion and the weight of everything she had been carrying. I dried her with a plush towel, patting her skin gently, and carried her back to the bedroom.

“I can feel that.” Her voice was dreamy, laced with drowsy pleasure. “I might keep you around for this alone.”

“Only for this?” I pressed my thumb into a knot at the base of her neck, and she let out a sound that was half groan, half laugh.

“And your cooking,” she said. “If you can cook, that is. I have not fully verified this claim yet.”

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