this relationship with a greater appreciation and experience for different kinds of sexual experiences. I’ll have had the pleasure of your brain and your body for however long we last. We both win.”
“What do you know about my brain?”
“I know you don’t become a high school math teacher without possessing a pretty big brain. Almost as big as your pretty green eyes.”
She looked away, uncomfortable with his praise. She’d never accepted compliments well, particularly from men in her life.
“What do you say about taking a bath?”
“Together?”
“It’s more fun than doing it alone.”
“I say yes.”
Chapter 7
David’s bathroom was fit for a sultan or a third world dictator. Glossy soft gray marble countertops anchored a sizeable vanity to one wall. Another wall boasted a deep, sunken tub that looked as though it was made to contain the entire Tide football team. A stand up shower graced the opposite wall. He drew the water, only stopping when the tub was full to bursting. He kept the lights off in keeping with the rest of the house. Several candles strategically placed throughout the bathroom pitched shadows on the walls, lending a soft glow to surround the tub’s occupants.
The warm water soothed her in places she didn’t realize needed soothing until she sunk as deep as the tub allowed while David levered himself down at the opposite end of the tub.
“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a man with bubble bath.”
“Oh really. Why’s that?”
“I don’t know. It seems sort of…not macho.”
“You really do think I’m macho, don’t you?” His self-assured and self-satisfied look should have annoyed her. Instead, it charmed her all the way down to her tired toes. Even her feet were worn out by their horizontal workout.
“You’re pretty manly,” she reluctantly acknowledged. “At least, by Portland standards,” she qualified.
“Somehow, I’m guessing this is going to be yet another problem for you,” he said, as he ran a sudsy washcloth from the soles of her feet up her calf, to her knee, and then back again. Never before tonight had each and every section of her leg been so supremely sensitive. Maybe it was the man. Maybe it was his hands. Whatever it was, she was trying to tell herself to simply relax and enjoy it.
“I didn’t say that,” she responded, twisting her leg to give him greater access to the backs of her calves. Calves that were quickly turning into erogenous zones.
“Well, since whatever I think is appropriate, you seem to find completely objectionable, I’m going to out on a limb here and wager a guess that you’re about to tell me you’re not attracted to manly or macho men.”
“That’d be a big fat lie, don’t you think, given how we spent the last hour along with last night?”
He smiled at her, lighting her up from the inside out. Crap. If one smile and multiple orgasms were responsible for this kind of loopy behavior, how would she react if they were together for more than two days at a time? What if she fell in love with him? Would she fall at his feet, worshipping him? Do whatever he asked in bed and out of it? Beg him to never leave her? Promise to give him as many children as he’d impregnate her with?
“What I think is that whatever road trip you just took in your head, you need to stop, turn around and return to the here and now.”
His insight disarmed her, abruptly and completely.
She shook her head, intent on resuming her study of him. He embodied the phrase, “a man’s man.” His chest was delightfully masculine, with the right amount of hair on his chest before bisecting a respectable six pack in a happy trail. His shoulders were strong, deeply grooved with muscle and spanned the width of his tub. A five o’clock shadow she must have been too nervous to notice before roughened his jaw, making him appear slightly disreputable and dangerous in the soft candlelight. Of course, the man was dangerous. Dangerous to her emotions.
“What do you know about my brain?”
“I know you don’t become a high school math teacher without possessing a pretty big brain. Almost as big as your pretty green eyes.”
She looked away, uncomfortable with his praise. She’d never accepted compliments well, particularly from men in her life.
“What do you say about taking a bath?”
“Together?”
“It’s more fun than doing it alone.”
“I say yes.”
Chapter 7
David’s bathroom was fit for a sultan or a third world dictator. Glossy soft gray marble countertops anchored a sizeable vanity to one wall. Another wall boasted a deep, sunken tub that looked as though it was made to contain the entire Tide football team. A stand up shower graced the opposite wall. He drew the water, only stopping when the tub was full to bursting. He kept the lights off in keeping with the rest of the house. Several candles strategically placed throughout the bathroom pitched shadows on the walls, lending a soft glow to surround the tub’s occupants.
The warm water soothed her in places she didn’t realize needed soothing until she sunk as deep as the tub allowed while David levered himself down at the opposite end of the tub.
“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a man with bubble bath.”
“Oh really. Why’s that?”
“I don’t know. It seems sort of…not macho.”
“You really do think I’m macho, don’t you?” His self-assured and self-satisfied look should have annoyed her. Instead, it charmed her all the way down to her tired toes. Even her feet were worn out by their horizontal workout.
“You’re pretty manly,” she reluctantly acknowledged. “At least, by Portland standards,” she qualified.
“Somehow, I’m guessing this is going to be yet another problem for you,” he said, as he ran a sudsy washcloth from the soles of her feet up her calf, to her knee, and then back again. Never before tonight had each and every section of her leg been so supremely sensitive. Maybe it was the man. Maybe it was his hands. Whatever it was, she was trying to tell herself to simply relax and enjoy it.
“I didn’t say that,” she responded, twisting her leg to give him greater access to the backs of her calves. Calves that were quickly turning into erogenous zones.
“Well, since whatever I think is appropriate, you seem to find completely objectionable, I’m going to out on a limb here and wager a guess that you’re about to tell me you’re not attracted to manly or macho men.”
“That’d be a big fat lie, don’t you think, given how we spent the last hour along with last night?”
He smiled at her, lighting her up from the inside out. Crap. If one smile and multiple orgasms were responsible for this kind of loopy behavior, how would she react if they were together for more than two days at a time? What if she fell in love with him? Would she fall at his feet, worshipping him? Do whatever he asked in bed and out of it? Beg him to never leave her? Promise to give him as many children as he’d impregnate her with?
“What I think is that whatever road trip you just took in your head, you need to stop, turn around and return to the here and now.”
His insight disarmed her, abruptly and completely.
She shook her head, intent on resuming her study of him. He embodied the phrase, “a man’s man.” His chest was delightfully masculine, with the right amount of hair on his chest before bisecting a respectable six pack in a happy trail. His shoulders were strong, deeply grooved with muscle and spanned the width of his tub. A five o’clock shadow she must have been too nervous to notice before roughened his jaw, making him appear slightly disreputable and dangerous in the soft candlelight. Of course, the man was dangerous. Dangerous to her emotions.
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