Page 58 of Three

I groan in bliss as I let my body sink deeper into the hot water, loosely wrapping an arm around his waist.

“Mmm.” Ramiel lets out a long sigh and drops his head on my shoulder. The water temperature is perfect.

“Didn’t take you for a bath person.” He chuckles and then kisses my neck.

I roll my shoulders. Maybe I should reconsider, if he’s willing to wiggle his ass like he’s doing right now. “It’s good for the muscles.” I grunt. The cradle of his butt cheeks feels fucking amazing.

“How did you meet the wicked trio?” he suddenly asks.

I turn my head and let my nose dive into his damp hair, his fresh scent hits me. “I shared my cell with an old guy. He was in for robbery. He helped me get acclimated to prison in exchange for protection. Being a Black ex-cop who killed a priest made things quite difficult at times.”

As I keep talking, Ramiel takes my hand and starts that pinky-to-palm stroking. “We became friends. He was sick and knew he’d never make it out. One day, he told me about his three grandsons and made me promise to keep an eye on them when I got out.”

“You did more than that, though,” Ramiel whispers.

“The situation I found them in was worse than I thought. Had no choice.” Two years have passed since that day. Ash still doesn’t trust me completely and uses that fuck-off attitude to protect himself. Ren pretends everything is fine behind those high walls he built around himself, and Dare…keeps everything inside.

“Most people wouldn’t have cared. They are very lucky you found them. And they appreciate it, I can assure you. They almost attacked me this morning, like guard dogs.”

“They were simply defending their home.”

“And you. I had to endure a Salem-witch interrogation. Plus, they’ve turned eighteen, if they didn’t like you, they would just up and leave.”

I sigh against his hair. “Let me guess, you researched them?”

He turns his head to look into my eyes. “Just on the surface. Boy Scout promise.”

“You? A Boy Scout?” I snort.

“Okay, you got me there, I was never part of the Boy Scoutgangs. But the rest is true. I wanted you to share it with me.”

“Why? We barely know each other,” I say, but the question is also directed at myself. Why? Why does Ramiel feel likemore? Is it only because we have a difficult past in common? Pain?

“True. But you have a positive effect on my body, obviously. And I want to repay you somehow. People hate when I know more than they want to share. Even mybloodbrothers do.”

“Bloodbrothers?”

He opens his palm and shows me an old, deep scar running through it. “A blood promise I made with my foster bros.”

“What’s that?” I look at the red number on his wrist. It’s a brand. “Three.”

“Part of my past.” His gaze dims as he lowers it to the water. And I feel like all his levity and frivolity has fled his body. I won’t accept that.

I kiss his lips slow and long, and when we part, a light, almost triple-dimple, dopey smile breaks out. That’s better. The warm feeling in my chest is back.

“You’re so gooey inside. Such a papa bear,” Ramiel says playfully, turning his body to the side—as far as he can in the bathtub—to pull on the hair on my chest. His eyes dance with refound cheerfulness.

“No, I’m not.” I feel my cheeks growing hot.

And of course, he notices. His light brown gaze turns mischievous. “Are you blushing, Hunter Bear? Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” he stage-whispers.

“You are two seconds away from a spanking.”

He moans and then bites my chin. His lips move down, nibbling my throat, the red stubble on his cheek scraping against my skin with the most delicious friction. I drag my fingers through his soft hair to keep him there.

“I don’t hear any kind of threat in that sentence.” He starts idly stroking circles over my belly. His hands always find their way there, like he can't stop himself.

There’s a flutter deep in my stomach. There’s something exciting about him being turned on by my belly. I work hard on my muscles, and those are what catch people’s attention, not my abdomen. But for Ramiel, my round belly seems to be my best attribute—not counting my cock. He enjoys stroking his face and dick against it. Maybe next time we fuck, I should make him ride me.