Page 47 of Sundown Somewhere

“I…I was just wonderin’.”

We turn into the large open area with a whirlpool in the middle and lounge chairs scattered around the perimeter, the steam room, sauna, and salt room each on their own wall.

Hux stops, a thoughtful look taking over. “It’s how Auggie treats Miss Belle, and they’re the most in love people I know. So, I guess I’ve just always assumed that’s what you did, and have looked forward to treating my girl the same way.”

My girl…

My insides flutter, a swarm of butterflies swirling around, making it impossible not to smile. Because maybe Hux Hayes isn’t as allergic to relationships as I thought, leaving me wondering if he’s been holding back. Keeping a secret from me like I have him. Or hell, if he even realizes what he just said. It’s entirely possible he doesn’t even realize the admission he just made.

“But if you don’t like it, I’ll stop.”

“No, don’t.” I take his hand, squeezing it. “You’re the man in my life, and if that’s the way you want to be, the way you want to express yourself, then do it. Just know it might take me a hot minute to get used to.”

“That’s because Douche Baggins wasn’t a real man,” he mutters low enough that I can tell he thinks I can’t hear him. I bite back my laugh, at least pretending that I didn’t, but loving that he has a derogatory nickname locked and loaded. Also makes me wonder how long he’s been holding that one in.

Leading us over to the sauna, Hux stops short. The piece of white printer paper taped to the door reads OUT OF ORDER, and my heart sinks. I was oddly looking forward to getting all hot and bothered in there next to Hux.

“Steam room instead?” he offers. “You’ll still get your sweat on.”

The man is missing the point. Or at least part of the point. This wasn’t only about the sweating. It was about continuing what he started. Then again…

“Steam works.”

I nod, my inner troublemaker starting to come alive. The impish twinkle in Hux’s eye as he leads the way tells me he sees it too. Good.

A whoosh of steam hits us, the opaque cloud surrounding us quickly as we step inside. It’s a good thing neither of us are wearing glasses, the instant spike in humidity making the view in front of us short enough without the added challenge of defogging. Hux grabs my hand, leading me inside, searching for a place to sit. The room is large, lined with two-tiered seating, offering plenty of room to spread out.

“Looks like we have the place to ourselves,” Hux comments.

“Darn, I was hoping to make new friends,” I comment sarcastically, untying my robe and laying it out on the tile ledge before parking myself on it. I have to admit, the steam feels good against my skin, the moisture sinking in, pulling out all the crap.

I can feel Hux’s gaze on me before I hear his grumble, unable to make out exactly what it is he says. I don’t push my luck though. Instead, I wait for him to settle in next to me, the heat of his body cutting through the steam and pressing against my side. I shift so that our legs are touching, running my hand up and down his thigh. His cotton-covered thigh.

“Undies.” My voice is clipped, but playfully so, letting him know I’m only partially annoyed.

“Men don’t wear undies,” he retorts.

“Fine, man-panties?”

He snickers. “In any other situation, I’d tell you that you were asking for it…”

He would. And in any other situation, I’d stick my tongue out at him like we were still nine, then smile sweetly knowing that he’d never follow through on such a threat. Although now there’s a part of me that is wondering what is on the other end of it.

“Maybe I am.”

I lift the shoulder touching his casually, like it’s a totally off the cuff remark. Like I haven’t been wondering what it would be like to be with Hux since I undressed him a little bit ago. Since he offered to fuck me properly yesterday morning. Left me wondering if I really would have trouble walking the next day.

That is just an expression, right? No one truly walks funny the day after a good fucking. Do they?

“But this isn’t any other situation.”

Then what is it?

He doesn’t continue. Simply looks forward, into the misty distance, reaching over and drawing light circles around my kneecap. The delicate touch is enough to drive me crazy—both physically and mentally—sending little pings through me as each of my nerve endings comes to attention. I need to take matters into my own hands.

Sure, he started it, but doesn’t mean I can’t finish it.

I’m up and on my feet, nudging his knees open in a flash, catching him off guard. “This weekend has been a lot about me.”