Page 78 of Cain

But first, I needed to go find Cain.

When I opened the bathroom door, I walked into a bedroom very different from the one I’d left.

There was a new fluffy sage green blanket draped over the bed, an extra pillow, one of those squishy animal ones in the shape of a bat, a basket full of bath and body products, a hairbrush, hair ties, socks, and lip balm.

Stacked up on the dresser were several leisure sets in a fabric so soft it felt like water between my fingers—one was a sage green set (since Cain had been listening when I’d mentioned it being my favorite color), another was navy, and the third was mauve. Beside them were two heavy sweaters, a zip-up hoodie, a floral robe, and a bag that—when I glanced inside to check the contents—was full of panties. The crazy thing was they weren’t even the kind of panties a man might pick out—all lace, bows, cutouts, and thongs. They were comfy bikinis a woman would buy for herself.

Had Cain asked one of the club princesses to go out and shop for me?

“Damn. Thought I’d get back before you got done,” Cain said, making me drop the pair of yellow panties back into the bag, my cheeks feeling warm.

“This is too much.”

“It’s not. You need to recover. For that, you need comfort items and essentials.”

“Did you send out one of the princesses?” I asked as he set two to-go coffees on the nightstand.

“Nah. I was up early. I figured you would be sleeping in, so I ran out.”

“You picked out all of this?” I asked, looking around at the items.

“Yeah. Why?”

“It’s just… some things are things I wouldn’t think a man would pick out, is all.”

“You mean the panties?” he asked, shooting me a smirk. “I was married, remember? Cute underwear lasted all of a year. Then it was all cotton panties because, apparently, you all get UTIs from the other shit.”

“Oh, um, yeah. You… you talked about that kind of thing with your ex?”

“What was going on in her body? Yeah, we talked about that. You didn’t?”

I once tried to explain that I couldn’t have sex while I had a UTI, and Perry had berated me for denying him his needs so badly that I gave in and made my UTI ten times worse.

“No. Not really. It, um, it didn’t really matter what was wrong with my body.”

“Think I’ve called your ex every version of asshole I can think of, but it still isn’t enough.”

“I’m starting to see it was a lot worse than I thought at the time. Well, thank you,” I said, not wanting to talk about Perry anymore. “Those sets are so soft. And I want to live in that robe.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he said, shrugging it off.

And that was all the more reason to want to. Because he wasn’t doing it expecting gratitude.

I moved closer, pressing my hands into his stomach and sliding them upward until I reached his chest, where my side started to object. Unable to grab his face, I gathered his shirt instead, twisting and pulling until he lowered down, a boyish smirk on his lips before they met mine.

I meant for it to just be a sweet peck, just silent gratitude. But the second his lips were on mine, desire sparked and caught, burning through me until I barely even registered the ache as my hands went around his neck, pulling him closer, until his body was flush against mine.

A soft moan escaped me.

And that seemed to snap the hold Cain had on his self-control.

His hands were all over me then—grabbing the back of my neck as he angled me and explored my mouth with his tongue, then sliding over my shoulders, down the slope of my spine, over the flare of my hips, then finally sinking into my ass. He used it to pull my pelvis against his. A cry escaped me at his hard length pressing against me.

That had that rumbling sound escaping Cain as he turned and walked forward, backing me up through the room.

The end of the bed touched the backs of my legs, but Cain kept pushing until I was lowering down.

He didn’t come with me.