Page 53 of This Reckless Home

“Since when did you all become so bossy?” I say, trying to distract from the naughty cheques that my body really can’t cash right now.

They all laugh, deep and masculine and it makes my nipples pebble which doesn’t go unnoticed when both Anatole’s and Steele’s gazes fly down to them, their laughter trailing off.

“Nope, you distract the kids while I bath Blossom,” Nox orders, standing up and offering me his hand.

“Dick,” Anatole grumbles as I let Nox help me out of my seat, trying not to wince at the ache between my legs. I’m not sure I’ll survive all three of them if this is how sore one of them makes me.

Nox gives me a bath, taking care to wash every inch of me and even washing my hair, then drying it, leaving the ends loose and flowing. He then proceeds to teach me how to care for his hair.

“I wash it about once a week, curly hair doesn’t get oily like straight hair does. And the key is to use a sulphate-free shampoo so it doesn’t strip the moisture out,” he tells me, pointing to the products he brought in from the pool house to my room. “But before washing, deep conditioning is key. So I’ll often use a hot oil treatment, jojoba, almond, or coconut, and leave it in for about 20 minutes before washing it out.”

In the shower, he gets his hair damp but not fully wet, then steps out, water still clinging to all that gorgeous bronze skin, highlighting every muscle. “Eyes up here, Petal,” he teases, and I snap my gaze back up to his to find them filled with smug amusement. “We need to heat the oil first, not enough to burn the scalp, just warm.”

“How do you do that?” I ask as he grabs the oil from the products on my dresser. “I’ll pop it in a bowl in the microwave for maybe like ten to fifteen seconds, then test it on the inside of my wrist. Won’t be a sec.”

He goes downstairs while I look at the rest of the products he brought up, making a note on my phone so I can buy them later for the kids. When he comes back, he’s got a bowl in one hand, the bottle of almond oil in another. Setting them both down on my dresser, he sits on the stool, facing the mirror. “You’re going to help me, Petal.”

Picking up a rat-tail comb, he sections his hair, using clips to hold parts back. Then he puts a small amount of the oil in his hands, after testing the temperature on the inside of his wrist and starts working it through his hair, making sure to spread it evenly.

“Your turn,” he tells me, and I come up behind him, butterflies fluttering in my stomach as he takes my hand and pours a little oil in. “Rub them together a little, then massage in just like I did.”

I do as he instructs, eliciting a deep groan when I start to massage it into his scalp. “Am I doing it right?”

“So fucking right,” he moans, and I watch as his eyelids flutter in the mirror in front of us.

I continue to massage the oil in, ensuring it’s also covering his hair, and I swear I’ve not seen him this relaxed before. Maybe after last night, but even then, he was taking care of me and focused on my comfort, not his.

“Nox?” I ask as I finish spreading the last of the oil.

“Hum?” He opens his eyes and a thrill goes through me when I see his pupils are dilated and his gaze is a little unfocused.

“Can I do this again? Maybe, every week?” I ask, sucking my lower lip in. “I like taking care of you like this. Like you did with the bath.”

He gives me a smile that lights me up from the inside. “Yeah, Princess. You can do this every week.”

I beam at him. “Thank you, sir.”

He shakes his head. “You’re gonna be the fucking death of me, you know that right?” My brows drop, not quite knowing why this would be the death of him, but he just chuckles again. “Shit. I forgot the shower cap. It helps trap in the heat while we leave the oil to soak in.”

“I’ve got a plastic one that might work,” I tell him, trying to contain the smile that is attempting to show. Before he can reply, I turn and rush into the bathroom, grabbing the shower cap that the kids got me last Christmas.

He barks a laugh when I present it to him. “What the fuck is this?”

“A chicken, obviously,” I sass back, earning an arched brow that has my thighs clenching. “The kids bought it for me last Christmas. And it’s kinda cute with the boggily eyes and beak. It’ll look great on you.”

He rolls his eyes but takes it anyway, laughing along with me when he gets all of his hair inside. “Now, we wait.”

“How long?” I ask when he turns around, a wicked look in his green eyes.

“Twenty minutes minimum.” I look down to see one of my silk scarves in his hands and my pulse picks up. “Hands out, Princess.”

Licking my suddenly dry lips, I do as he says, watching as he ties my hands in front of me. “I’m still a little sore.”

He gives me a devilish smirk as he finishes tying the knot, and the effect is not even a little bit ruined by the silly shower cap. “Oh, don’t worry, it’s not your pussy that I’m interested in. You need to heal, Flower.” His eyes fix on my mouth, and I have the feeling I’m about to pay for that love bite. “On your knees, Princess.”

With a shaky exhale, I do as he commands, him still sitting on my stool.

“Such a good girl for me,” he praises, stroking the side of my face with fingers that are soft from the oil. “Tell me your safe word.”