touched Bannon’s cheek. “And ye ken how tae take cuttings?”
Bannon leaned into it, taking comfort in the gentle caress and the water dripping down his chin. “I even know how to do grafts and cross pollination.” He knew about hydroponics too, but he didn’t really want to explain that at the moment. Shrugging, Bannon continued, “I got bored with lessons a lot when I was a kid, so I spent a lot of time hiding out in the fields with our head gardener. Drawing the wildlife, mostly. But I learned a few things too.”
“Ye are a surprising man, Red. Ye have hidden depths.”
That was true, he supposed. But everyone did, didn’t they? “We have that in common, I think.”
“Among other things?”
Bannon arched a brow.
Chuckling, Ciaran pulled his hand back. “We both hate failure. And we’d do anything fer our people.”
The realization that Ciaran was correct hit Bannon right between the eyes. It was like getting the air knocked out of him. He’d always hated all of his society’s dictates, but it was true, he loved his family and friends and would do anything to protect them and their way of life. “Yes.”
“And we are much better working together than apart.”
“We are?”
“Oh, absolutely. That is why we are going tae fix Maggie’s garden tomorrow and then start our own, and tonight we are going tae the building site after the castle is asleep. Now….” There was a sparkle in Ciaran’s eye that should have warned him, but it still surprised Bannon when the water sloshed and Ciaran held out a washcloth to him.
Bannon just stared at it for a moment, then met that mischievous gaze. “What is this for?”
“Tae wash my back, of course.”
Yes! Timothy shouted and did a little jig. And best of all—no bubbles!
Blinking in surprise, Bannon reached for the soapy washcloth. Good grief, is it hot in here?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Who knew there were advantages to not using bubbles in one’s bath?”
—Timothy on personal hygiene.
Ciaran seized Bannon’s wrist and tugged him right into the bath.
Bannon sputtered and gasped as the warm water quickly soaked him. “What are—”
With a chuckle, Ciaran gripped his waist and settled him across his lap.
Outrage warred with Bannon’s sense of adventure. He’d gone swimming in his clothes before, but it was different and strange being only partially wet. At least the water was toasty. His adventurous streak and his longing for this man finally won out. He gripped Ciaran’s shoulders as his bottom obtained complete sogginess. “What are you doing?” Galaxy, his voice was husky, out of breath.
Not even the least bit repentant, Ciaran smirked at him, showing off the dimple in his cheek. He slipped his hands around Bannon’s torso, onto his back. He leaned forward inches from Bannon’s face, and his breath caressed Bannon’s chin as he said, “Probably making a mistake, but at the moment, I canna seem tae bring myself tae care. Any objections from Timothy?” His voice was even deeper than normal and laced with lust.
Heat raced through Bannon at the soft, seductive words, and he shook his head. “Not a—”
Ciaran’s mouth descended on his, and it seemed they opened their mouths as one, melding together in perfect sync.
Bannon sighed out his pleasure and closed his eyes. The nervousness was still there but less. It was like he had been waiting for this moment. It felt so right. Even more right than the last time.
Their tongues languidly danced together, and Bannon flattened his palms on Ciaran’s chest. The pulse against his hand matched the one in his own chest.
Ciaran touched his cheek, then his forehead, dragging downward. It was a pleasant touch that tickled and soothed at the same time.
The only sounds were the soft slosh of water and the crackling logs. Bannon felt cocooned in a bubble with the edges of the room fading into darkness outside the glow of fire. The cozy, intimate feel went right to Bannon’s head, making him dizzy with excitement. Like it was only the two of them in the world.
Water dripped down his cheek and onto his neck as Ciaran’s fingers trailed behind his ear, brushing his hair back.
Bannon leaned into the touch, but Ciaran began to trail kisses down his chin, to his jaw, biting and sucking as he went.
Pulling his head closer, Bannon begged—for what he didn’t know and he didn’t care. He just wanted more. He felt everything. The air, the water, Ciaran’s breath. Ciaran’s cock hard against his hip. The sensations collided in Bannon’s lower back, tingling up his spine