Page 63

Arne: I’m going to the spa

Arne: Wanna come with me?

Max: Always, Princess

Arne: I’ll pick you up in twenty minutes

Arne: Love you

Max: I love you, too

I flung my phone on my bed, grinning up at the ceiling for a moment before I got up to grab my stuff.

It took us almost an hour in the car. Just sitting there in our little bubble, holding hands and listening to my dopamine hits, was the best.

At the spa he insisted on paying for us and led the way to the dressing rooms.

He watched me closely as I undressed and pulled on my swimming trunks.

“With how often I see you in very little clothes, you’d think I’d get used to it.” He chuckled hoarsely.

“Stop it.” I followed him into the showers.

He chose the stall across from me. He spun in a circle to get evenly wet, presenting me with his broad and muscular back, then his even broader chest and the hair I loved to nuzzle my face into.

Good God.

I would never get used to seeing him in all his wet glory.

“Where do you want to start?” he asked me when we entered the actual spa, the tang of salt in the air.

“Don’t ask me this, Raven.” He nudged me with his elbow. “I might give you an answer inappropriate for being in public.”

I choked on my spit, coughing, as I stared at him, my face flushed. “Let’s go outside to the whirlpools first,” I suggested, trying to keep a cool head and surveying the map over his shoulder.

He followed me around the large indoor pool, where mainly older folks were swimming or chatting with each other, and out of a door. I shivered in the cool January air, thankful for my feathers.

“Are you cold?” I half turned to him before passing by one whirlpool and choosing the empty one a level below it.

“No,” he hummed. “I’m used to it, and my thoughts keep me warm.” Arne leaned in and brought his mouth nearer to my ear. “Love the trunks, by the way.”

I stepped out of my flip flops and hurled myself into the water.

“Sorry,” he muttered softly when he’d taken a seat next to me. The jets were off so we had a few quiet moments to ourselves.

“Don’t apologise. You just make me nervous—and hard,” I whispered back.

Thankfully the bubbles started up again before he could reply. But under the cover of the billowing water, a strong hand found my thigh.

“Me, too,” my captain groaned. “So hard, Raven.”

I sneaked my hand up to his cock, palming the hard ridge through the swimming shorts. We couldn’t do much here, but God, I needed to touch him. It was torture to be this close to almost naked Arne and not be able to touch him.

Arne traced my bracelet.

“I love to see you wearing this, baby,” he muttered so quietly I could barely hear him over the bubbles.

“Mm, same, Princess.” I couldn’t wait to see him shower with it when we were back at work. A naked Viking wearing nothing but a token of my love.