Fifth, he wasn’t a great kisser, he was a great kisser and I knew this because he kissed me lots, during the day (everything from lip brushes to quick, deep wet ones to mini-make-out-sessions) and we totally made out in bed every night. He never let it get hot and heavy (okay, so it got heated and the petting was relatively heavy and very nice but not out-of-control). Then, he’d stop, hold me, stroke me and chat with me quietly for awhile until I was relaxed and drowsy then he’d order me to cradle his thigh and go to sleep.

In other words, if we were in my world, Frey would totally be in there and I wouldn’t make him wait the couple of weeks of dates my personal philosophy dictated happen prior to serious hanky panky that involved the exchange of bodily fluids. Then again, when I started seeing a guy I didn’t fall asleep in bed with him every night and make him breakfast, lunch and dinner when we weren’t in town having dinner at a pub, where Frey had taken me last night so I could have a break from the stove, that was.

I’d figured out on day two what he was doing and what I’d figured out made me like him even more (and, incidentally, that was when I stopped making my mental list).

And what that was was that he saw I was nervous that first night, I told him straight out he and his size scared me and he was being cool about taking some time to let me get to know him and get used to him before we got down to the nitty gritty of marriage business.

And, by the by, on top of all that, he seemed to like me too. And, since I’d decided I liked him, I really liked that.

So now, I had to admit, I was stunned he wanted me to get na**d and get in a hot spring with him. That was like jumping from first base to third without even buying a girl dinner.

I mean, I could think he was in there when I was making out with him in our bed by the light of a fire but out in a frozen forest by a hot spring when I had breakfast dishes to do and I was terrified of him seeing me naked, uh… not so much.

“Um…” I mumbled as he dropped his last sock, straightened and his hands went to the waistband of his breeches.

Eek!

“Finnie,” he called gently and my eyes shot to his. “You sneak to the springs every day after I’ve returned from my bath in order to take your own. You’re already here so we might as well bathe together. Strip and join me.”

I blinked.

Then I protested, “But I don’t have my soap here, a bath cloth –”

“Use mine.” His head jerked to a cake of soap and a large towel sitting on a rock.

I looked to it and looked to him, scrunching my nose. “But your soap smells like boy.”

Not that that smell smelled bad, not at all, it smelled good, especially on him. It was a fresh, clean smell, not much to it except it somehow was entirely masculine and this was probably because it didn’t smell like flowers or fruit like most of my stuff did.

At my words, or perhaps the look on my face, Frey burst out laughing and his hands shot out to me, gripping me at the waist and pulling me to him.

Then he dipped his still smiling face so it was close to mine. “Even smelling like a boy, it’s impossible for you not to be appealing.” I blinked as his words again caused my heart to flutter and then he lifted up and kissed my forehead before looking in my eyes. “Now, I’ll give you my back and twenty seconds to strip and join me in the springs. Don’t delay,” he cautioned, letting me go, “I’m starting to count now.”

Then he turned his back to me and his hands went to his breeches.

Shit!

I looked down at the water to see what I always saw, steam coming up where the heat of the spring hit the frigid air. This was good. There was also a constant bubble as the spring renewed the pool, agitating the water. This was good too.

I heard water splash and noticed out of the corner of my eye that Frey was entering the pool.

This was bad.

Well, I was Seoafin Wilde and this was my adventure so… what the heck?

I quickly untied my belt, yanked off my dress, boots and underwear and dropped them on the rocks by the pool. Pulling my ribbon free from where it held the front of my hair away from my face, I lifted my hands to hold up all my hair as I stepped in and settled myself on a natural seat in the rocks, the water up to my chest. Once there, I started to redo the ribbon holding my hair at the top of my head to hold it clear of the water.

As promised, Frey’s back was turned and he waited until the water settled after I’d moved in to shift around then he sat across the misty pool from me, the water, I could see through the steam, coming up to his ribs.

I secured the ribbon in my hair, dropped my hands and tried to let the water relax me.

This didn’t work partially because I was na**d for the first time with my husband but mostly because he called out, “Come here, wife.”

Hells bells. He was definitely trying for third, running straight there and forgetting all about first and second.

“Uh…” I hesitated then water splashed, Frey’s fingers were suddenly wrapped around my wrist and water was flowing around me as he pulled me to him.

Once he got me close enough, his strong arms curled around my waist and he pulled me even closer. Much closer. So much closer, my calves hit rock and I had no choice but to bend my knees and straddle his lap.

Ho boy.

“Frey,” I whispered, my hands going to his chest as his hands moved up my back, pulling me closer, imprisoning my arms between us and I started to deep breathe.

One of his arms locked around the middle of my back, the other hand drifted up my neck, fingers gliding in my hair as he pulled my face closer to his.

“Relax, my wee Finnie,” he murmured and, just for your information, he’d started to call me his “wee Finnie” the day after the elves came calling and that was on my long list of things I liked about Frey too because I thought it was really sweet. “You know I’ll be gentle,” he finished, speaking as gently as I knew he could be.

“Yes,” I whispered as my eyes dropped to his mouth, a mouth that was coming closer.

“And you know you’ll like it.” He kept murmuring and he wasn’t wrong about that either.

So, I breathed, “Yes,” right before his mouth touched mine and he kissed me.

Yep, he wasn’t wrong. I liked it. Sweet, slow, deep but gentle, his hands moving on me through the water, slick, soothing, light and the only semi-invasive move was when his thumb trailed up the side of my breast tantalizingly, making me want something not slow, gentle, light or non-invasive but the opposite of all those.