And after spending over half an hour with my eyes closed, my head resting against a waterproof cushion, I heard steps in the doorway.
“Have you shriveled up like an old lady yet?”
“You should try it before you knock it.”
“Hmm. So many things I could do with that.”
“When was the last time you took a bath?”
“I have no idea. I can’t even think of a time I’ve taken a bath since I was a little kid.”
I turned around and looked at Adam. “Are you shitting me? Seriously?”
“I’m seriously not shitting you.”
“Then strip and get in here.”
“Hmm. How do I know you aren’t just using this bath as an excuse to get me naked?”
I laughed. “Well, that’s not beyond the realm of plausibility. But until you’ve enjoyed the true luxury of soaking in bubbles, you can never understand.”
“I’m just having a lot of fun standing here watching you enjoy it.”
“Hmm. That sounds kinda pervy. I like that.”
“I do have a pervy streak.”
“I already knew that. Well, get over here and make yourself useful, then. I need my back scrubbed.”
He took a step forward and I glanced down, noting that the bubbles had mostly flattened after I’d been in the tub so long and, thus, were no longer covering my breasts.
“Wait! Turn around, please.”
He froze. I could see his surprised profile in the mirror as I reached out, grabbed a small hand towel and draped it over the upper half of my body. He turned around, his features blank.
“Okay, I’m good,” I said, leaning forward. With a little hesitation, he approached again.
“There’s some soap over there, and a washcloth…”
“As you wish, my lady.”
I laughed, amused by the Princess Bride reference. I adjusted the towel against me and said in my best imitation of an English accent. “Farm boy, wet the cloth and wash my back. Every bit of it—please.”
He did as I asked with a quiet, “As you wish.”
He used the towel at first, then his hands were on my back, sliding over my soapy skin. I let out a long breath, tantalized by the feel of his hands on me, even if just to clean me. After massaging my shoulder blades, along my spine and down to the small of my back below the waterline, he rinsed the washcloth and rubbed it over me again.
“Farm boy, don’t forget my neck.”
“As you wish,” he repeated, but instead of washing it, he kissed it. I tilted my head, giving him access to more as tingling energy sluiced through me. My body was alive and coursing with lust from his touch in under five short minutes.
