A blush crept up Tildaâs neck as yesterdayâs steamy scene replayed in her mind.
Was he suggesting to assist her with a bath?
Wouldnât this lead toâ¦?
âLetâs take one together.
â
.
.
Library
Before Tildaâs thoughts could spiral any further, Lyndon scooped her up into his arms.
Tilda gasped, wrapping her arms around his neck, her eyes wide, âTogether?â
Lyndon, ever playful, raised an eyebrow.
âTwo people in a bath saves water, right?â
Tilda frowned, speechless.
Lyndon smirked at her stunned expression, carried her into the bathroom, and what followed unfolded naturally.
He placed her gently on the sink, his touch feather-light as he removed her glasses and clothes.
Kisses trailed down her skin, each one sending shivers down her spine.
His technique was impeccable.
Tilda leaned into his touch, a playful thought striking her.
In the future, wouldnât these real-life experiences make writing romantic scenes a breeze?
No more awkward references or contrived situations!
âLost in your head again?â
His voice was a husky murmur, his teeth nipping playfully at her collarbone.
Tilda hissed softly, a playful annoyance bubbling up.
âAre you a dog?â
Lyndon chuckled, lifting his head briefly.
With a swift movement, he scooped her up again and stepped into the waiting embrace of the bathtub.
âMaybe Iâm a wolf in sheepâs clothing,â he murmured against her ear.
Tilda couldnât help but laugh.
Never would she have imagined the cold, reserved Lyndon could be such a passionate force.
That night, they explored uncharted territories, pushing boundaries until Tilda finally succumbed to sweet exhaustion.
The warm sunlight filtering through the curtains roused Tilda from a deep sleep.
She reached for her phone, her stomach growling in protest.
Had she slept through the entire morning?
âAwake?â
Lyndonâs rich voice sent a pleasant shiver down her spine.
His warm body lay beside her, radiating comforting heat.
Tilda turned to face him.
âWhat time is it?â
âAlmost noon,â he replied, his voice laced with amusement.
Sure enough, a glance at the clock confirmed it.
Tilda groaned in mock despair.
âSleeping in again? Your parents will definitely think Iâm a lazy good-for-nothing.
â
Lyndon chuckled softly, his fingers gently stroking a stray strand of hair from her face.
âDonât worry about it, love.
You already figured out my mom isnât the villain you thought she was, right? Only a true villain would judge a guest for sleeping in.
â
Tilda blinked, momentarily speechless.
He had a point.