“Hey, use yours,” I demand, trying to snatch it from his grasp but remembering instantly just how quick he is, and how I don’t stand a chance in taking anything from him. We’ve been down that road.

“No. I want you to smell like you.”

I grumble unconvincingly, loving how he prefers the way I smell to anything else, even though I’d be much happier smelling like him. I watch as I’m thoroughly cleaned as only Reese Carroll would do. The man is meticulous about everything, concentrating on covering every inch of my skin in the soapy bubbles. He lingers on my breasts, kneading them for several minutes before he rinses them clean. His marks are on me, permanently branded onto my skin due to his daily freshening-up sessions. I moan softly as he latches onto the left one, pulling the skin into his mouth and planting a soft kiss to it after it’s darkened.

“So, how bad was today?” he asks, licking the mark on my right breast before sucking on it.

I grab his head and hold him against me. “Tolerable.” He narrows his eyes at me, not buying my elusiveness. I sigh, dropping my head down. “I mean, if you really loved me, you wouldn’t want to wait ten more days to make this official. You’d whisk me away to Vegas and make me yours right now.”

He stands up, pressing his lips to my forehead. “Do you need my dick in your mouth again?” I nod quickly and he laughs. “If I could arrange it, I’d have the entire world witness you becoming mine.” He smirks. “Officially.”

“Officially,” I echo, reaching behind me and shutting off the water. For all intents and purposes, we both know I’ve been his since that first wedding, but until his last name becomes mine, it won’t feel real to either one of us.

After securing a towel around his waist and blocking my amazing view, he wraps a towel around me and follows behind me into his bedroom. I don’t bother getting dressed because he prefers me naked in bed; anything I put on my body right now would be ripped off and discarded.

No barriers.

Nothing getting in his way of me.

That’s his thing.

“You hungry?” he asks after stepping into a pair of boxers.

“Aren’t I always after you ravage me?”

He disappears down the hallway, returning moments later with two bowls. He hands me mine with a smile and I lean back against the headboard, lifting the bowl to my nose. “Mmm, this smells amazing. I might just keep you.”

He laughs softly next to me before he begins inhaling his food. “So, there’s this last-minute account Ian and I are taking on that requires some traveling this weekend. And we were talking and thought it’d be cool if everyone came with us.”

“Where are you going?”

He stretches his legs out next to mine, my feet stopping at his calf. “New Orleans. We have to be there really early on Friday, so you’ll have to take a separate flight.” He pauses, exhaling roughly. “I need to talk to you about something.” I cock my head and see his jaw twitch slightly just before he rakes his hand through his hair.

Uh oh.

“This account, it’s a business Bryce is investing in. He hired us to show them how to make better use of their resources and increase profitability. The only reason why I agreed to do it is because…” he clenches his eyes tightly, swallowing loudly. His eyes refocus on mine after he takes in a calming breath. “It’s just important. I need this account, and I need you to understand that.”

Bryce Roberts has been flying under the radar since Reese and I got engaged but before that, he made it very clear he was interested in me. The last time I saw him was when I delivered treats to Reese’s building for a business meeting. I had no idea they knew each other, but there that little shit sat, staring at me like I was one of the pastries I had made. They don’t work together and apparently, hardly ever have to deal with each other, which is a good thing. Reese isn’t shy when it comes to how he feels about guys hitting on me or making me feel uncomfortable, and Bryce did both.

I see the pent-up irritation on his face that he’s failing miserably at hiding. Humor works best in situations like this. “Well, it sucks he’s still breathing. I was hoping he had gotten mauled by a bear.” My jokester smile fades when Reese remains in serious, concerned-fiancé mode. I dip my head, forcing his eyes that are burning a hole into the sheet to focus on mine. “I get it; it’s an important account. I told you before, I can handle assholes like Bryce.”

In fact, I’d very much like to handle Bryce. I haven’t slapped anyone in months, and my hand is beginning to twitch.

He aggressively stabs his noodles, taking out his anger on the delicious dinner he’s made us. “And I told you before, if he makes you uncomfortable in any way, I’ll break his fucking neck. That doesn’t just include him coming into your shop. If he so much as looks at you in a way you don’t like…”

I place my hand on his arm, halting his threat. “Relax. He won’t.” Unless he’s dumber than I think, which is entirely possible. I swallow my mouthful and twirl some noodles onto my fork. Time to get the subject off Bryce before my fiancé has a coronary. “I’ve never been to New Orleans. I’m kinda excited.” I shove my forkful into my mouth and bob my head to the side, chewing animatedly. Reese laughs softly next to me, finally relaxing. “So, what do I need to do?”

He sits his empty bowl on his nightstand, sliding down in the bed and settling on his side facing me. “Just book your flight. I already rented the house for all of us to stay.”