Dirty Deeds (Get Dirty 3)

I smile shyly, nodding. “Okay, then let’s go home.”

We walk up the stairs, and I feel like we’re walking hand-in-hand to something bigger, better. At the landing, Shane swoops me up into his arms and carries me across the threshold like a bride. It makes me warm and bubbly inside.

He kicks the door closed and bends down for me to lock it, and then continues his trek to my bedroom. He sets me down gently on the edge of the bed before looking around. “Bathroom? I sorta forgot.”

I point behind him, and he disappears for a minute. I can hear him digging around, looking for something, and I call out. “You okay? Need something?”

“Nope, got it,” he says, then I hear the bathtub turn on, the water echoing out in the quiet apartment. “There, that’s perfect.”

Shane reappears, pulling me up from the bed. He begins stripping me, and my body responds instantly, knowing what it wants, and I try to kiss him.

Shane steps back, his eyes twinkling in amusement. “Nu-uh, Angel. I will always give you what you want, but trust me to know what you need too.”

Confused, I let him undress me the rest of the way and then watch as he strips too. Once we’re both naked, he leads me to the bathroom. I’ve always liked this bathroom. It’s why I put up with the rest of the place. The big garden tub is full of steaming water and fluffy bubbles, and there are tea candles lit on the countertop.

The bubbles in my belly rise again, the happiness bursting out as I giggle and turn to Shane. “Are you giving me a bath?”

Shane holds me, our naked bodies pressed together as he kisses my temple. “Angel, we’ve had a rough few days. And tomorrow, I’m going to have to start the process of becoming Agent Guthrie again. But for now, I want to wash all the roughness away, start fresh and clean and honest with each other. Never lie to me, never hide from me. Give me all of you. And I’ll do the same for you.”

I nod, tracing a fingertip along the designs covering his chest. “I love you, Shane.”

He presses his lips to mine, smiling. “I love you too, Maggie. Now let’s get in.”

He steps in first, holding my hand to help me in too. I grab a hair band from the tub edge and quickly twist my hair up into a messy bun on top of my head.

We sit, my back to his front with his legs spread wide around me. Settling in the hot water, the suds tickle and tease against my skin. Shane grabs my pouf and pours body wash on it, working it to a foam and inhaling the scent deeply, grinning. “Mmm. I figured it was a special soap that makes you smell so good. Makes me want to eat you up.”

I smile, too dreamy to reply as he moves the pouf along my skin, covering my arms and my chest in the warm vanilla sugar scent of my body wash. “I’ll make sure to buy another couple of bottles this weekend.”

Shane nods, reaching down and motioning for my foot. “Give me a leg.”

I raise a foot toward the ceiling, not as flexible as the dancers at Petals, but not too shabby, if I say so myself. I can feel Shane hardening against my back as he washes down the length of my calf to my thigh, where it disappears into the water. He repeats the move on the other leg, his forehead dotted with sweat, either from his arousal or the warm water, or both.

Once I’m curled back under the surface of the warm water, he shifts, pressing me forward so he can wash my back. The pouf drops into the water, and I feel Shane’s rough palms tracing along my back, washing the bubbles away and massaging my soft skin. His lips follow the path of his hands, kissing and nibbling along my shoulder and up to my neck. “Angel . . . so sweet.”

A moan rolls past my lips, and I feel like I could lie in his arms forever, but I want to do for him what he’s done for me. I want to wash all the past, the lies, the fear away. I want him to know that I want to be by his side. Even if the FBI says that we have to move, or that he has to go man the office in Alaska or something, I’ll be there with him. I sit up, breaking his embrace for a moment before turning to face him and sitting between his splayed legs.

I feel around for the pouf. Finding it, I use more body wash to work the lather back up as Shane watches me with hooded eyes. “Hope you don’t mind smelling like me,” I say flirtatiously as I start to swirl the pouf along Shane’s chest. “I happen to love covering you in my . . . scent.”