Chapter 148

Chapter 148
Julian's POV

I pulled it out. The screen showed Lucas's name.

"Baby, get in and start washing. I need to take this call." I said, then turned and left the bathroom.

"Hello." I answered, keeping my voice steady.

"Hey, Julian." Lucas's voice sounded hesitant. "Is Nora with you? I called her but she didn't pick up."

"She's here." I leaned against the hallway wall. "She had too much to drink. She probably won't make it home tonight."

There was a brief silence on the other end, followed by a muffled, suppressed laugh.

"Oh." Lucas's voice was clearly tinged with schadenfreude. "Well... good luck with that."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing." His laugh became more obvious, his voice pitching slightly. "It's just... my sister when she's drunk is pretty... interesting. You'll find out."

"Lucas."

"Really, I gotta go." He said hastily, as if afraid he'd burst out laughing. "You have my sympathy, man. Really."

Then he hung up.

I stared at the disconnected phone, and that laugh of his... clearly reveling in the fact that I was in for a rough night.

This was not a good sign.

I pocketed my phone, took a deep breath, and pushed open the bathroom door.

Then I froze.

The entire bathroom—floor, walls, mirror—was covered in bubbles.

Nora sat in the bubble-filled bathtub, scooping up a large handful of bubbles and throwing them with force.

Her hair and face were also covered in bubbles, making her look like a mischievous child.

I carefully made my way through the slippery bubbles, finally understanding what Lucas's schadenfreude-filled laugh had meant.

She turned my bathroom into a bubble playground.

Then I looked down and realized her clothes were still on.

I stared at her. "Nora."

"Mm?"

"You forgot to take your clothes off."

She smiled. "You can help me take them off."

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "You're killing me."

I moved to the edge of the tub, reaching out to help her remove her shirt.

Then she grabbed my collar and yanked.

I tumbled forward with a splash, landing in the water, clothes soaked, fully pressed against her. She laughed—bright and unrestrained—and wrapped both arms around my neck.

The water was warm. Nora was warmer.

She'd pulled me into the bathtub, soaking my clothes instantly. Now she sat in the bubble-filled water, looking absurdly pleased with herself, gray-blue eyes bright with alcohol and mischief, wet hair plastered to her flushed cheeks.

I braced my hands on either side of the tub, dripping wet, struggling to steady my breathing and my rapidly crumbling self-control. Every instinct inside me was screaming to close the distance between us, to claim what my wolf insisted already belonged to me.

"Nora." I kept my voice low, controlled. "You need to take off your clothes and wash properly. Then go to sleep."

She tilted her head, studying me with unfocused intensity. "I don't want to."

"That wasn't a suggestion."

Her lips curved into a smile that did absolutely nothing for my self-control. She leaned forward slightly, bubbles sliding down her neck. "You're all wet now too."

"Yeah. I noticed."

"So you should take your clothes off too."

Damn it. "Nora—"

"Help me first," she interrupted, tugging at her soaked blouse. "I can't get it off."

I reminded myself I was a fucking federal inspector, not some asshole who took advantage of drunk women.

Then I reached for the hem of her shirt.

She squirmed like a cat avoiding a bath, making the whole process infinitely harder. When I finally managed to peel the wet fabric over her head, she was left in a bra that was practically transparent from the water.

My mouth went dry. Every drop of blood in my body rushed south.

Her skin was flushed pink from the heat, water droplets sliding down her collarbone and disappearing into—

Don't look. Don't fucking look. You'll lose control.

I grabbed a towel from the rack and wrapped it around her shoulders, blocking my view before I completely lost my mind. "There. Can you handle the rest yourself now?"

She pouted. Actually pouted. "But I want you to help."

"Nora." My voice came out rougher than intended. "I'm trying really hard to be a gentleman here. You're making it extremely difficult."

She leaned closer, bubbles catching in her eyelashes. "What if I don't want you to be a gentleman?"

My breathing stopped. The air between us felt electric, making my skin burn.

Then she kissed me.

Light, exploratory, her lips soft and sweet against mine. I stayed perfectly still, hands locked on the edge of the tub, fighting every impulse demanding I respond, deepen it, take control.

When she pulled back, her eyes were hazy with alcohol and something else that made my chest tight.

"You taste like rain," she whispered.

I swallowed hard. "You taste like fruit wine."

"Is that bad?"

"No, baby. Nothing about you is bad."

She smiled then, slow and genuine, and something in my chest cracked wide open.

Fuck it. I can't do this.

I stood up abruptly, water sluicing off my clothes. "I'm going to get you some dry clothes. Stay in the tub. Don't drown."

I left before she could protest, stripping off my soaked T-shirt as I headed for my bedroom. The cold air hit my overheated skin, but it did nothing to cool the fire burning through my veins.

I grabbed one of my T-shirts and a pair of sweatpants that would never fit but at least provided coverage. When I returned to the bathroom, she was already under the showerhead, letting water stream down her body.

"Out," I said firmly. "Come on."

I kept the towel wrapped around her as she stepped out. She leaned heavily against me, and I could feel the heat of her skin through the damp fabric.

"Arms up." I pulled my T-shirt over her head, carefully threading her arms through. The hem fell to mid-thigh, completely hiding her body. Good. I needed all the help I could get.

Then I carried her to the guest bedroom. She protested the entire way, insisting she wanted to sleep in my bed.

"Not tonight," I said, setting her down on the mattress.

"Why not?"

"Because you're drunk, and I'm barely holding on, and if you end up in my bed right now, neither of us is getting any sleep."

She blinked up at me, processing. Then, impossibly, she smiled. "Would that be so bad?"

My hands curled into fists. "Nora. Please. I'm begging you to stop talking."

"But—"

"Sleep." I grabbed the hairdryer from the bathroom and returned, gently running it through her damp hair. The simple, domestic act helped calm the chaos in my chest.

"Just sleep, sweetheart. We can talk in the morning." Her hair was already dry.

She quieted under my ministrations, eyes drifting shut.

I tucked the blanket around her, pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Goodnight, little troublemaker."

She mumbled something unintelligible and curled onto her side.

I closed the door softly and headed straight for the coldest shower of my life.

---

Twenty minutes later, I emerged from my bathroom feeling marginally more human. The icy water had helped, but I could still feel the ghost of her lips on mine, still smell her scent everywhere.

I walked down the hallway in my bathrobe, intending to check on her one last time before forcing myself to sleep.

The guest bedroom door was open. The bed was empty.

My heart stopped. "Nora?"

I found her in my bedroom, curled up in the center of my bed like she belonged there, hugging one of my pillows.

Of course. Of fucking course.

"What are you doing in here?" I asked, moving to the bedside.

She lifted her head, eyes still drowsy but focused enough to find mine. "Your bed smells like you. I wanted to be close."

Every carefully constructed wall I'd built tonight crumbled.

"Nora—"

She reached up, cupping my face with one hand.

Then she kissed me again. This time there was nothing tentative about it. Her fingers threaded through my damp hair, pulling me closer, and I couldn't stop myself from responding. I leaned into her, one knee on the mattress, and kissed her back.

She tasted like sweetness and heat, like every fantasy I'd tried to suppress. Her hands slid down my neck, over my shoulders, mapping the muscles beneath my robe.

Damn it.

"You're killing me," I managed.

She kissed along my jaw, feather-light touches that set my nerve endings on fire. When she reached my ear, she whispered, "I don't want you to have self-control anymore."

My restraint snapped.

I caught her face in my hands and kissed her properly—deep, claiming. She made a soft sound against my mouth and pressed closer.

I groaned into the kiss, my control fracturing further with each touch. My hands moved to her waist, fingers digging into her hips as I pulled her tighter against me. She gasped, the sound driving me insane.

When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing hard. Her eyes were dark, lips parted, and she looked at me like I was everything she wanted.

"This is your last chance to stop this," I warned, my voice barely recognizable. "Tell me no, Nora. Tell me you want me to leave."

She met my eyes without hesitation. "Stay."

I kissed her again, slower this time but no less intense. My hands slid beneath the T-shirt, fingers splaying across her bare back, feeling her shiver under my touch.

I flipped us in one smooth motion, pinning her beneath me on the mattress. Her hair fanned out across my pillow, her chest rising and falling rapidly, and she looked so beautiful it hurt.

"You started this," I said, leaning down to kiss her throat. "You don't get to complain when I finish it."