Page 29 of Snow Globe Secrets

“Holy fuck, London. What exactly did you have in mind for this bath?”

I was a bit too focused on the clinging plastic wrap to have any idea what he was talking about, though I did clock the nickname and smiled inwardly at the feeling of acceptance and connection it gave me.

“Huh?” I muttered distractedly as Austin picked something up from the counter. Shit, not just something, the novelty, confetti-patterned dildo my friends had sent me from England. “Oh!. I … No. The dil … That. That came from my friends. The same group that sent these. In a package, from England. For my birthday,” my voice fizzled as I explained. I went back to focusing, very carefully, on the impossible-to-remove plastic wrap. “These silly things were buried underneath it. I didn’t mean to … I only took it out to get to these.” I waved the package again.

“Pity,” Austin said, and from the corner of my eye—I couldn’t look up at him quite yet—I saw him tap it in his other hand. He put it on the counter and did that thing where he forced his face into my line of vision. “I’d love to see you play with that sometime. Maybe, you know, I could help.”

“I don’t really play with it. That’s why it's buried in a drawer, here in the bathroom I never use, along with the bloody bath bombs I’ve also never used.” I tensed my hands in frustration, and Austin took the box from me without looking away.

“Bloody,” he commented before pecking my lips and tearing into the plastic on his first try.

“I loosened it for you,” I snarked a little petulantly, then worried immediately that my bratty teasing might make him angry. It had always rubbed David the wrong way.

I looked up to find that smile that was like a hallucinogen to me lighting up his whole face. I was floating again as he leaned down and pecked another kiss to my lips. “And I thank you for it, babe … I mean, London.”

The laugh I released may have sounded small, but in my heart a chorus of cupids sang “hallelujah” at his reaction.

The tub was filling, and Austin went and sat on the edge, running his hand through the water to test the temperature. “I think it’s ready for us. But the real question is, are you ready for a summer breeze?”

“I really think I am.”

He casually tossed the ball into the water and just as casually followed it in, looking at me expectantly as a world of thoughts flashed movie-trailer style in my head, and I worked to tamp each one down.

You’re thinking too loudly, I chastised myself as I lifted up from the toilet and climbed into the tub, trying very hard not to think about how exposed I felt, with my naked bits at his eye level as I hoisted one leg, then the other, into the warm water. I stood indecisively for a moment before turning and lowering myself so that my back rested on his chest. He immediately wrapped me in his arms, and I settled in, all thoughts vanishing as sensations surrounded me: the warmth of the water, the slight tickle of the bath bomb near my leg, the embrace of his arms around me. The subtle, though not-quite-natural, smell of a summer breeze.

I leaned back into him and inhaled deeply. “If I close my eyes, it’s like I’m in Brighton.”

He matched my deep breath. “I don’t know, babe. I grew up at the beach, and I’m not getting it.”

“No. You’re absolutely right.” I laughed. “I don’t know what that smell is supposed to be. It’s not totally unpleasant, though?” My statement came out as a question.

“It’s like a candle. Not unpleasant, just not entirely … correct.”

“Close your eyes and picture home.”

“If you close yours and picture Brighton.” I worked hard to remember the relaxing beauty of the few beach vacations David and I had taken there. They had been early on in our relationship. I decided it was unfair of me to be thinking about David while wrapped in another man’s arms, but if this was just a hookup, it shouldn’t matter what I was thinking about.

His breath was on my ear, sending a chill straight through me when he said, “I’m not sensing relaxing summer breeze.” I hadn’t realized I’d tensed up.

I extracted myself from his embrace to turn the water off. “Sorry. My memories of the beach are mostly pleasant.”

“Mostly pleasant. A ringing endorsement!”

He sat up and reached for me, pulling me back against him. “Come, relax with me,” he insisted.

I nodded. “I can turn the jets on if you’d like.”

“Yes, please.”

The whirring began, and I focused on the flow of the water around me and the white noise of the motor as I relaxed into Austin.

“Wow. The one at Mom and Dad’s is much noisier than this.” His comment had me stiffening in his arms more than when I had been thinking about vacationing with my ex. He’d brought up his parents while I sat in his lap, his semi-hard dick caught between his stomach and the small of my back.

“Shit. Sorry. I didn’t mean to make things awkward. It was just an observation. You have a really lovely home here, Randall. Even your tub is first class.”

My heart pounded. The stress of his comment was part of it, but in that moment, my need to connect with this man took precedence, and words just tumbled out of my mouth. “It’s nice to have someone to share it with.”

“Then relax for me, babe.” He raised one dripping hand and placed it on my shoulder as he sank lower into the water, asking me to follow with a gentle pressure. I did so willingly, resting my head back on his chest. I glanced in his direction to see him leaning his head back, eyes closed, then I tilted my head the opposite way, resting it in the crook of his shoulder and closing my eyes as well.