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He was clearly very proud of himself, so she rewarded him with a kiss. “Seriously, thank you. I’m going to really enjoy this.”
“Oh, I know you are,” he agreed with a hint of smugness. “Now, why don’t you get undressed and hop in?”
The suggestion gave her a moment’s pause, because this was now uncharted territory, and they both knew it.
The last person she’d undressed in front of was David, but in all their years of marriage, she’d always taken her clothes off quickly, the goal being for him to see as little as possible; the poor man had seen more of her back than anything. This time, Paige was full-on facing him, and even though he’d recently seen everything there was to see above her waist, it had been during intense make-out sessions. This would be a little different.
For starters, she actually wanted David to see her, so there was that.
Slowly, she started to undress, hoping her leisurely pace was conveying confidence and not self-consciousness to him, as each piece of clothing was carefully removed, then dropped to the floor. The simple—yet not so simple—act of revealing herself to him felt very intimate, a feeling that was enhanced in the candlelit room.
When she was down to her red lace La Perla bra and matching panties, he was gazing at her with intense, almost burning eyes, and it struck her that he’d never looked at her like this. It almost shocked her to realize this was new for David, too, and that knowledge made her smile.
As did his full-throated groan.
“Remember when I told you about the moment I looked at myself and cried, because for the first time I loved my body?” she asked him. “That was the day I decided all my cotton underwear and bras had to be thrown out. That was a good day. It meant I wanted to wear pretty things, even if it was only for me and no one else ever saw them. I went to every lingerie store I could find and went batshit crazy.”
“Well, that was a good call, because that looks smoking hot on you,” he mused, continuing to check her out for a few more seconds. Then, when his eyes had reached hers again, he said, with complete seriousness, “But I’m thinking it’s going to look even better on your floor.”
Paige tilted her head. “Did you join a frat when I wasn’t looking?”
He grinned at her, and she made him wait a second before unhooking her bra and removing it, letting it fall to the floor as if it hadn’t cost her a small fortune. Next, she pushed her panties down and stepped out of them, hoping he wouldn’t be disappointed to see that instead of waxing, she maintained a thin layer of hair down below. She’d tried waxing once and it had hurt like a motherfucker, so she’d filed waxing in a box marked ‘Thanks, but no thanks’, and vowed to never do it again. She’d then decided if she ever got with a man who wanted her to do it, her response to him would be, ‘You first’.”
“Jesus.” David released a deep breath and stared at her. “You were always beautiful, but now? I can’t take my fucking eyes off of you.”
She could see the absolute truth of his words, in his hungry expression and the slight vibration of his body as he stepped forward and took her face in his hands and kissed her. He kissed her without the finesse she’d gotten used to, and when he pulled back, his breaths were labored.
“In you go,” he told her, indicating the tub. “I’ll be right behind you.”
Chapter 7
Paige blinked at him, feeling like an utter idiot. It hadn’t even occurred to her that he’d be joining her.
David smiled at her. “You didn’t think you were doing this alone, did you?”
“No, of course not,” she lied. Then, heart pounding, she turned to get into the tub, no longer thinking the bath was going to be very relaxing.
“Holy shit,” he blurted out. “I guess you did find something you wanted to permanently ink on your skin.”
It took her a second to realize he was talking about her tattoo.
“How the hell did I miss this the other night?” he asked.
“Probably because you were really focused on my boobs.”
“Good point.”
He moved right up behind her, tracing the phoenix tattoo on her lower right back and hip. “‘It takes a phoenix to rise from the ashes’,” he recited slowly, tracing the words along the feathers in the candlelight. “This is incredible work.”
“I think so, too. It was worth every hour spent in the chair.”
“I agree.”
“I have another one,” she said, lifting the hair off her neck, revealing two small Chinese symbols. “I got it after Carter killed himself.”
“What does it mean?”
“Resurrection. The literal translation is ‘To live again’, which I thought was fitting because when he died it felt like I was reborn.”
