Scorched(8)

“Oh, God,” she panted, as her breaths suddenly came faster and faster, “He’s gonna trade me in for something new and shiny!” she whispered to the reflection staring back at her in the mirror.



Clutching her chest, she shook her head as she tried to clear those overwhelming and terrifying thoughts from her hormone-soaked mind and forced herself to take a deep cleansing breath. “I can do this,” she ground out through her teeth, continuing to stare at her naked body in the unkind mirror. “I’ll just figure out a way that I can do it clothed,” she continued, snatching her long black silk robe off the hook hanging from the bathroom door while the tub continued to fill behind her. She could bathe clothed…if she had to, she’d start a fashion trend, dammit! Jabbing her arms into the sleeves, she was cinching the sash at her waist when she heard the door open behind her.



Holy Christ, that moment she’d been trying (albeit unconsciously) to avoid was upon her. It really wasn’t that she didn’t want to be intimate with her husband. She did. Badly. It was just that insecurity like she hadn’t felt since her sexy husband had conned her out of her knickers a few years earlier flooded her every time she thought of getting naked with him. And she knew, without a doubt, she was screwed in the no-fun-at-all kind of way.



“Did you say something to me?” she heard Devil greet her as he entered the oversized bathroom, carrying two very full goblets of wine.



Startled by his sudden question, Molly jumped slightly, clutching the sash of her robe as she spun to face her husband. Forcing a smile to her lips (or at least what she hoped would pass for a reasonable facsimile of one), she swallowed quickly. “Lord, you scared me, Devil.”



Canting his head, Devil’s eyes narrowed. “You okay, baby?” he asked slowly, as his gaze tracked her movements suspiciously.



“I’m fine,” Molly stated quickly as she moved to turn off the water and press the button that would begin to churn the water into foamy waves. “Just a little nervous, I guess.” She could tell by the way Devil stilled almost instantly that she’d captured his attention with that remark and she mentally kicked herself for being so blunt. Way to go, Molly, her inner voice almost sneered at her.



“Nervous,” Devil echoed, his deep voice spitting out the word as though it tasted foul. “Why in the hell would you be nervous? And why are you clutching at your robe like a lifeline? It’s pretty hard for us to relax in the tub when one of us has clothes on,” he noted dryly, his perceptive eyes missing nothing as they watched for her reaction.



Well, shitty Mcshit Shit SHIT! They were off to a roaring start, weren’t they, Molly thought anxiously. Desperate for something to occupy her hands and keep her eyes somewhere besides her husband, she began to collect the linens they’d be needing.



“Molly, I’m waiting,” Devil reminded her, calmly putting their wine glasses on the wide lip of the tub where they could reach them easily before he moved toward his tense wife. “Babe, it’s just you and me here. Why in hell would you be nervous with me?” he asked again.



Molly’s neck went hot as she imagined his eyes boring into her. “I’m not nervous exactly, Dev,” she replied quietly, stacking thick fluffy towels beside the tub within easy reach. “I shouldn’t have put it that way,” she muttered.



Picking up her goblet of wine, he slid an arm around her side to hold the glass in front of her. “Here. Drink,” he suggested against her ear. “Then explain to me what you think you should have said.”



Taking the wine from his hand, she took a long sip, letting the fruity notes play against her tongue before swallowing. Feeling slightly calmer, she turned to face her husband. “It’s just been a while for us, Devil,” she said carefully as one hand toyed with the silky sash of her robe.



Capturing her fingers, Devil chided, “Quit fidgeting, Mols. I know it’s been a while, honey. Hell, I can tell you just exactly how long it’s been down to the hour if you want me to.”



“I don’t,” Molly interjected quickly, rolling her eyes.



“Okay,” Devil averred, “Then how ‘bout you explain what has you looking like a trapped cat in a roomful of rocking chairs. And don’t tell me I’m imagining it because we both know that I’m not,” he added, moving his hands to cradle her hips as she opened her mouth to speak.



Scowling because he knew her entirely too well, Molly blew out a frustrated breath. “Fine! I’ll tell you. I am nervous. In fact, I’m jumpy as all hell. Devil, you haven’t seen me naked in a really, long time.”