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His deep voice whispers into my ear, “I put some salts in. Lex said it’s good for you, down there.”

Down there.

The scent of lavender and eucalyptus wafts up from the bubbles, instantly relaxing me, and as I glide my fingers through the water, Pace uses a cup to douse my hair with water, fingers scritching along my hairline.

I’m already putty in his hands when he begins lathering it with a sweet-smelling shampoo.

“When I saw your picture on that app,” he says, running his fingers over my scalp, “this was the first thing I was obsessed with. Your hair. It looked so silky and soft. I used to daydream about it against my face.” It’s a quiet, bashful confession that makes me grin.

Humming, I tip my head back, luxuriating in the feel of his fingers, frothing the suds. “It’s all dry and coarse now.”

He makes a small, dismissive sound. “It just needs a little TLC. Let me take care of it.”

It’s impossible to disagree, so I sit there as he tends to it, his long fingers working through the strands first with shampoo, and then a thick, floral cream.

“I miss it, too,” I admit, somewhere in the midst of feeling like gelatin. “You being inside of me, when we go to sleep.”

Pace follows my train of thought with a low, stilted, “It… wasn’t always about sex.”

Nodding, I tip my head back for another rinse, thinking that it’s a lot like this. Just being wanted. Cared for. Touched.Kept. “I’m scared, Pace.” My own confession is just as quiet and nervous, and it makes his movements slow to a halt.

“Of what?”

Turning, I face him, the water sloshing messily around us, and find his dark eyes full of worry. “Do you remember back when the three of you were giving… deposits?”

Pace frowns, rubbing some of the bubbles into my arm. “If that’s what you want to call it.”

Exhaling, I say, “You were all so… hungry. For me. For my body.” Holding his gaze, I speak the fear that’s been nestled inside me ever since Justice emerged. “Is that going to go away now that the job is done? Am I just… a mother now?”

“Oh, Rosi.” Pace lets out this core-tingling, raspy laugh, tugging me closer. “That hunger didn’t go away. It just… changed.”

“But how?” I ask. “How did it change?”

He pauses, seeming to mull this over as he strokes my wrist. “Sometimes, when I’d fuck you, it’d be so… desperate. To have you.” Brows knitting up, he shakes his head. “It was violent and greedy, but I know you’re mine now. I can wait untilyourhunger comes back. Untilyoufeel greedy.” He glances down at my body, arching a brow. “And not to pressure you or anything, but I’m sort of counting the days.”

I deflate at the naked want in his eyes. “You don’t think I’m,” I swallow, “disgusting now?”

“Disgusting?” His head snaps back, dark eyes pinning me. “Rosi, that hasn’t changed. You’re still beautiful. Do you see the way these PNZ fucks look at you when they’re over here?”

Rolling my eyes, I say, “That’s not about me, Pace. Everyone in East End has huge, throbbing Oedipus complexes. They’re turned on by a motherly figure—not me, specifically.”

He hums, reaching out to graze his knuckles over the curve of my breast. “The motherly thing is hot as fuck, but you’re selling yourself short. You’re a hot, fiery West End chick with a great rack and gorgeous eyes. Pushing out a kid didn’t change that.”

He punctuates this by pitching forward, taking my mouth in a leisurely kiss. He had a point before about our deposits being so rushed and desperate. We never got normal experiences, like dates and slowly building electricity.

But the electricity is building now.

His tongue is hot and slick as it licks slowly against mine, our lips fused in an unhurried, indulgent kiss. He grips my jaw with one hand and my hips with the other, scooting me into the cradle of his thighs as we make out.

“I love you,” he says, easing off the kisses and grabbing the body wash. “And you make me feel safe in a way no one has before.” He squeezes out a small dollop into his hand, rubbing it over my shoulders, and then down my arms, massaging soothingly. “Soon, I’ll be back inside of you, but until then, let me take care of you the way you take care of us and Justice, okay?”

Leaning forward, I kiss him once more, feeling a pounding in my heart that is so different from before. He wanted me back then, hard and relentless, and maybe this feels tame by comparison, but he’s fueled by something better than anger.

Love.

I turn my back to him, letting the warmth ease my aching muscles, and settle into him as he keeps his promise, cleaning every inch of my skin. From my neck to breasts, ribs to hips, thighs to calves, ankles to toes, Pace methodically bathes me, leaving no patch of skin untouched. And after, he sighs in contentment when I wash him back, my palms rubbing down his hard chest, mapping out this new form he’s building. He reclines against the tub, head thrown back as my hand wanders, grabbing the hard, eager length of him.

He groans, but it’s warm and unhurried, and when the water has cooled, I let him guide me out of the tub. Patting me dry, hewraps a fuzzy, purple robe around my body, not seeming to mind that his cock is still standing at full attention.