Page 81 of Stay Wild Darlin’

I hissed as the heat touched the rope marks—thighs, wrists, ankles—but his hands were already there, soothing, gentle, cupping the back of my neck.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” I whispered, sinking into the water, letting the sting become something healing.

He climbed in behind me, cradling me with his strong, warm body. Legs on either side of mine, arms wrapping around my waist, his chest pressed to my back.

He dipped a washcloth into the water and gently dragged it across my skin—up my arms, along my thighs, over the bruises and burns.

His lips brushed my shoulder. “You were so fuckin’ strong for me tonight.”

The praise was intimate.

“You’re safe,” he added, the cloth still gliding over my skin. “I got you. Always.”

No more words passed between us. Just the sound of water, the slow drag of cloth over skin, and the soft kiss of a cowboy making good on every beautiful thing he’d done to me.

His fingers skimmed over the rope marks on my thighs, the cloth gliding in slow, careful strokes.

“You’re the only thing I wanna chase after a ride.”

I smiled, heart thudding softly.

We stayed in the water until it went lukewarm, until the aches in my muscles dulled and the red rope marks softened beneath his hands.

Dalton didn’t rush. He didn’t speak unless it was to praise, to soothe. When I finally leaned my full weight back against his chest and let out a quiet sigh, he pressed a kiss to my shoulder and whispered, “C’mon, darlin’. Let’s get you outta here.”

He stood first, grabbed a towel, and helped me out. The moment the cool air kissed my skin, he wrapped me up in thick cotton, rubbing my arms with both hands like he didn’t want me to feel anything but warm.

He handed me one of his robes. It was too big—black, soft, and smelling like cedar, soap, and sex. I slipped it on slowly, tying the belt at my waist as I glanced toward the window.

“I should go with Cora,” I murmured.

Dalton shook his head before I could say more. “Fable and Harleigh have her. I’ll text them to make sure she’s okay sleeping over.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but he held up his hand.

“You’re not gettin’ up unless you want to.” He slid his fingers under my chin, tilting my face up. “You said you wanted me close after. Let me show you that.”

I swallowed, too tired to pretend I didn’t want that. “Okay,” I whispered.

“Good.” He kissed my forehead, then crawled back onto the bed with me instead of reaching for the door. He tugged me in against his chest, one arm locking around my waist like a promise. “If they need us, they’ll call,” he murmured into my hair. “Right now, you’re stayin’ right here with me.”

31

Poppy

I woke up early the next morning in Dalton’s bed, but he was gone.

For a second, panic tried to spark before I rolled over and saw the note on the nightstand, pinned beneath the keycard.

Had to go check on Cora.

—D

My chest eased on a slow exhale. I blinked myself awake and sat up, and that’s when I noticed the room looked . . . different. Clothes gone. Rope put away. Towels folded. The whole space reset.

I slid out of bed and tied my robe tight as I padded across the hall. Cora’s soft coos floated through the door before I even knocked.