It was a long while before Tohr and Autumn reemerged from the warm, humid confines of their pool. Man, he was never going to go into that place again without thinking of it as "theirs. "
Holding open the door into the corridor for her, he took a deep, easing breath. Autumn. . . the perfect name for a perfectly lovely female.
Walking side by side, they made their way to the office together, his feet leaving wet prints, because the damp pants he'd squeezed himself back into were dripping at the hems. She, on the other hand, left no trail, as her robe was dry.
Last time she was going to wear the damned thing.
Shit, her hair looked good all loose around her shoulders. Maybe he could get her to lose the braid, too.
When they stepped out into the tunnel, he put his arm around her, tucking her in against him. She fit well. She was smaller than. . . Well, Wellsie had been much taller. Autumn's head was lower on his pecs, her shoulders not as wide, and her gait was uneven, whereas his mate's had been smooth as silk.
But she fit. Differently, yes, but the lock and key of their bodies was undeniable.
Approaching the door that led up to the mansion, he dropped back and let her go up the stairs first. At the top, he reached past her, punched in the code, and opened the way into the foyer, holding the heavy panels wide for her.
As she pased through, he asked, "Hungry?"
"Famished. "
"Then you go upstairs and let me wait on you. "
"Oh, I can get something in the kit - "
"Nope. Don't think so. I wait on you. " He took her around the base of the grand staircase. "You go up and get into bed. I'll bring the food. "
She hesitated at the bottom step. "That's really not necessary. "
He shook his head as he thought of all the exercise they'd gotten poolside. "It's very necessary. And you're going to humor me by losing that robe and getting in between the sheets naked. "
Her smile started out shy. . . ended up spectacular.
And then she pivoted and flashed him her backside.
Watching her hips sway as she ascended got him hard. Again.
Bracing one hand against the carved banister, he had to look down at the carpet and compose himself -
A nasty curse brought his head around.
Bad word, good timing. . .
Striding across the mosaic of an apple tree in bloom, he leaned into the billiards room. Lassiter was on the couch, focused on the wide-screen over the fireplace.
Even though Tohr was half-naked and half-wet, he strode over, getting in between the angel and the TV. "Listen, I - "
"What the fuck!" Lassiter started motioning like his hands were on fire and he was trying to flap them free of flames. "Get outta the way!"
"Did it work?" Tohr demanded.
More cursing, and then the angel jacked to the side in an attempt to get at the screen. "Just give me a minute - "
"Is she free?" he hissed. "Just tell me. "
"Aha!" Lassiter pointed at the boob tube. "You motherfucker! I knew you were the father!"
Tohr fought the urge to slap some sense into the son of a bitch. His Wellsie's future was at stake, and this dumb-ass was worried about Maury's paternity tests? "Are you kidding me. "
"No, I'm damn serious. Bastard has three kids by three sisters - what kind of man is that?"