Page 139 of Empire State Enemies

Her smile flickers with a touch of sadness. “And I wish I could fix yours.”

I trace her jawline, rough fingers on smooth skin. “If you could, I’d be convinced you’re a guardian angel.”

“Doubtful. No miracles from me.” Her eyes drop and she mutters, “Honestly, I half expected you to kick me out once you woke up.”

I wouldn’t have been that harsh. I’d have politely told her I had places to be and then organized for breakfast and a cab.

“I can be an ass, but I’m not completely heartless, Lexi.”

She hums, skepticism in those hypnotic eyes.

A whiff of mint hits me. I raise a brow. “You brushed your teeth?”

Pink stains her cheeks. “Just with my finger—I didn’t use your toothbrush!”

I chuckle. “Wasn’t accusing you. Besides, you had my cock in your mouth last night. I don’t think I can start arguing about swapping bodily fluids. I’ll get you a proper brush in a minute.”

At that, she lurches from the sheets like I lit them on fire. “I need to get going anyway.”

Ah, fuck.

I catch her wrist. “No rush.”

“I have things to be doing.”

“Come on, stay for a while.” What the fuck am I doing? “Enjoy the bath, the sauna—whatever you want.” She’s not out of my system yet. “I need to fuck you again. Let’s forget about fixing our messed-up lives for a morning and have mind-blowing sex to take the edge off.”

A shy smile spreads across her face as she gets out of bed. “Deal.”

“Just give me ten minutes to shake off this headache.”

“Or . . .” She pauses and stands awkwardly in the doorway, looking self-conscious. “We could share a bath; it might help with that tension.”

Under normal circumstances, my Saturday mornings are reserved for the rugby pitch—me and a few guys from school, throwing ourselves into the game with the kind of reckless abandon only amateur enthusiasts can afford. It’s the perfect way to blow off steam. It may not be as popular as American football, but it’s the one good thing my old man passed down to me.

But who needs sports when there’s a beautiful woman inviting you to bathe with her?

“I’ll get it ready,” Lexi murmurs before I can respond.

Five minutes later I follow, finding the tub filled with steaming, bubbly water. Smelly candles—good smelling ones, at that—flicker around the bathroom.

Didn’t even know I had those. Must’ve been one of Clodagh or Teagan’s attempts to inject a dose of femininity into my bachelor pad.

I cock a wry brow. “Yeah, a guy would definitely never light a bunch of candles first thing in the morning . . .”

She smirks. “They’re lavender, for relaxation. Get in, Connor.”

My hard-on is still raging, made worse by staring at her nude figure. I can’t help but imagine flipping her around and bending her over this tub.

“Can we skip the relaxing part and get straight to fucking?” I suggest. “I’m not really a bath kind of guy. Give me a couple of minutes in a cold room, and I’m sorted.”

She lets out a playful laugh. “Guess it’s time for a change. In you go, Connor. Do as you’re told.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I chuckle.

Reluctantly, I step into the bath, admittedly enjoying the warmth of the water and the sensation of bubbles on my skin. “I never have the patience to run a bath.”

“I don’t either,” she says, sliding in behind me. “But lately I’ve realized I need to slow down and take care of myself.”