Page 42 of Over & Out (Redbeard Cove #3)

I turn around, reaching for the faucet on my freestanding claw-foot.

I drop the plug in the tub, then get the temperature right, adding a chunk of the brick of solid bubble bath from my favorite shop in town.

It’s the color of a rainbow, and Hopper smiles when he sees it.

“Of course,” he says. “My rainbows and sunshine girl.”

The room starts to fill with steam and the sweet vanilla scent of the bubble bath.

Meanwhile, my insides fill with nerves. I’m going to do this. It doesn’t mean it’s not scary as hell.

“Can you start?” I ask. “Like, you take off your clothes first.”

Hopper doesn’t hesitate in the slightest. Of course. He’s had to be naked in front of whole studios of strangers. Somewhere on the internet, allegedly, is a grainy photo of his penis snapped from someone on set.

“You’re thinking about the penis photo, aren’t you?” Hopper asks as he peels off his plaid flannel.

I laugh out loud, the tension mercifully broken. “Maybe.”

“Have you seen the photoshopped versions?”

“Oh God,” I say. “Should I?”

“There are some good ones.” He’s already so gorgeous in just a t-shirt, the cotton stretching over the plane of his chest and thickness of his arms. But when he reaches his hand behind his back and pulls it off in one quick move?

“Holy shit,” I whisper as he lays his t-shirt on top of the hamper.

If he hears me, he does me the solid by not reacting. God, I’m embarrassing. But right now, I don’t care.

“In one of the photos,” he says, unbuckling his belt, “they gave me something I’d have to coil up like a hose to fit in my pants.”

I laugh, because ew . “A snake dick?” Still, as he stands there with his movie-star abs, grasping his belt buckle and sliding his belt out of his jeans in one quick move, my mouth goes dry. I swear the soft slap of that sound makes me clench down low.

“Pretty much,” he says.

I must look like I’m drooling, because he says, “Wait, you like the abnormally long penis?”

“No,” I nearly choke. I close my eyes to focus. “No, that’s very strange.”

“Not as strange as the alien dick.”

I laugh softly, my shoulders shaking. When I open my eyes, he’s dropped his mud-caked jeans and is standing in front of me in his briefs. They’re simple; white boxer briefs with a thick elastic band and some designer’s name on it that could say Alien Dick for all I can read it right now.

Hopper pauses. “Chris, you’ve already seen it. Please don’t be disappointed. I’ve only got one normal-sized human dick.”

“Hopper,” I laugh. “Stop.”

But I my laughing dies off when he stretches the briefs’ elastic band, pulling them neatly over his hips so they drop to the ground.

For the second time in my life, I’m staring at Hopper Donnach naked. I know right then it doesn’t matter how many times I see him like this. I’ll never get used to it.

He’s slightly hard, like he was, but then I made him talk about snake dicks. But as he sees me staring, it grows. I see him grow fully firm just from my attention, and when I meet his eyes and see his pupils dilating like a new moon, heat floods my abdomen, shooting an ache between my legs.

“I feel so powerful,” I say. “I gave Hopper Donnach a hard-on.”

Hopper lets out a soft laughs, but it fades quickly. “You are powerful. You do this to me any time you look at me, by the way. It’s getting kind of awkward.”

I smile.

Hopper takes a step toward me, and I suck in a breath, but he reaches past me to turn off the faucets.

“I’m going to displace a lot of water,” he explains. “You’ll displace a little more.”

“Hopper,” I croak, twisting the bottom of my shirt, pulling it down tight.

“Hey,” he says. He’s at full height again, and he reaches down to cup my jaw. “It’s okay if you don’t want to do this. Or if you just want to watch me.”

I’m the fair-skinned blusher, but to my shock, it’s Hopper whose cheeks turn pink at that. “I didn’t mean it like, sexually, just that I could get in the bath?—”

“Actually it sounds kind of hot,” I say. “Sexually.”

Hopper’s eyebrow lifts. Then he bends down and kisses me so softly and tenderly I feel like maybe, maybe , I can do this. Because I want to do this. That’s the part that’s scaring the shit out of me. I’ve never shown myself to anyone besides a medical professional.

But what did he say? Nothing about you will ever make me run.

I press my hands on his chest, needing some distance. “It’s okay,” I tell him. Or myself, I’m not sure. “I’m ready.”

I reach for my collar. Why did I choose to wear a button-down? It was constrictive when I was helping with the bike earlier, and my fingers fumble on the buttons now.

“Can I help?” Hopper husks.

I look up. He’s not trying to push me. He genuinely wants to make things easier for me.

Because that’s him, isn’t it? Even when he was Hopper the Dick, he helped me.

He helped me into my coat even when we were fighting.

He opened doors for me and texted me when I forgot something at the beach house.

He listened to me, always listened, when I was supposed to know nothing.

He was always just there for me. And now?

He dotes on me. It brings him joy to help me. I’m happy when you’re happy.

“Yes,” I say to him. Yes, you can help.

Just take care of me, Hopper. Don’t break me more than you’re already going to.