Reese

Leaning forward, I grab the first bottle of shower gel my hand lands on and pass it to him. I bend my knees and lean forward against them, letting my eyes slip closed as Graves’s rough, soap-covered hands glide up my back. He presses his thumbs into my shoulder, eliciting a moan from me.

“Feels good,” I whisper as he half massages me and half washes me until I’m completely boneless. “A girl could get used to this.”

“You’re strong, fierce, and beyond courageous. But that doesn’t mean I can’t look after you in other ways. I don’t ever want to be the guy that holds you back, Mal. If that means tying your hair back because your arms hurt from fighting, carrying you to bed because your legs hurt from running, and feeding you because you’re so damn busy thinking about everyone else but yourself, then fuck yes, I’m going to look after you. And more than that, Mal, you’re going to let me.”

I lean back once more, only this time I slide down so that my head is lower on his chest. When I look up, I can see his handsome face as he leans over me. His long hair hangs loose around his shoulders, the wet ends sticking to his skin.

He looks every inch like the conquering hero I picture when reading my favorite type of romance novel. Only, somehow, he’s real and all mine.

“Where have you been all my life?” I whisper, swallowing hard when he dips and presses a kiss to the tip of my nose.

“Right here, waiting for you to find me.”