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She left the bathroom to take the tangled line and underwear to her bedroom and when she came back Nick was running water and pouring in bubble bath. With his back to her and his shirt off and him on his knees, she could openly admire his bulging biceps, broad shoulders and the way his jeans hugged his ass. She’d felt strange at first, undressing, but after he took his shirt off she felt more comfortable. She wanted this to be an event for the two of them. And when he got tangled in the clothesline her last shred of embarrassment vanished with her laughter.
“You’d better stop,” she warned as the bubbles began mounding and mounting.
He turned around and glared, still pouring.
“You said you might need my help.”
He turned back just as the bubbles started running over the edges of the old claw foot tub. Monica had been particularly delighted over that tub because it was retro and back in style. The worn linoleum floor was something else. She hated it but hiring someone to install a new floor would be expensive and there were carpentry repairs that needed done worse.
Nick, red-faced whether from anger or embarrassment, scooped the bubbles off the floor with his hands, and seeing he’d gotten the knees and front of his pants wet, Monica suggested he throw them in the dryer while she bathed. After anchoring her hair on top of her head with a clip she slid into the water and squealed. “You used cold water, you dumbbell.”
Suddenly Nick’s scowl faded and he laughed. “Not totally. I mixed it but here … let me see how it feels.”
Peeling off his pants, he tossed them across the hall into the bedroom and she gasped. He followed that with his low cut jockey shorts, and seeing his penis arching as it hovered over her she slid down in the tub until bubbles covered her chin.
“You have a beard,” he said, chuckling as he stepped in, making a place for himself between her knees. “The bath water is cool but I’ll bet we can heat it up in a hurry.”
“What about the main course? You said you didn’t dare…” Monica felt claustrophobic. He took up a lot of room and their … uh, private parts … were almost touching. His balls were between her legs and his cock was pointing at her. He was right about the water warming up. Beads of perspiration popped out on her lip.
“If we play our roles right we might be able to make it through the whole menu. Just take a deep breath and relax.”
He rubbed her calves and she closed her eyes and did what he said. “That feels wonderful. I spend a lot of time on my feet. At work I mean.”
“What do you do?” Nick spoke softly, moving his hands up to her thighs where he continued the soothing motion.
“I’m a hostess in a hotel restaurant. I studied culinary arts in college so I’m not working up to my potential. Jules says I’m an underachiever who runs from success. Jules is the author of a bestseller, Telling Love From Lust, so by comparison I guess I am.” Monica rolled her eyes. “How did you become a Fantasy Man? I mean it is an unusual job.”
“I just sort of fell into it.” He parted his legs farther, putting one on either side of her hips, and scooted closer. Running his hands slowly up her stomach and onto her breasts, he began kneading them. “How do you tell love from lust?”
“I haven’t read the book.” Her breath coming fast, she dropped her head back. “But I think I’m in lust. That feels so good.”
“This?” he asked, squeezing her breasts a little harder. “Or this?” He pushed his hard penis against her soft stomach.
“Both feel heavenly.”
“You can touch me too, you know.”
He didn’t have to ask twice. She stroked his penis with both hands, and feeling the length and breadth of it, sighed. It was marvellous. She was thirty years old and not a virgin but she’d had sexual relationships with just a few men and none of them were equipped like this. “Magnificent,” she murmured.
He fondled her clitoris and kissed her lips softly. “You’re magnificent. And beautiful and I want to know and touch more of you but we can’t go much further without getting out of this tub.”
Monica hated to move away from his probing fingers but she stood, eager for the next course. “What’s next on the menu?”
Chapter Three
Nick … for he was still Nick … rushed naked out to the living room to study the menu. Next was Erotic Entrees … They had to wait for Main Intercourse.
“Would you like a massage?” he asked, turning around to Monica, and seeing she’d modestly donned a Chinese silk kimono, he protested. “Hey. No fair. If I’m not wearing anything you shouldn’t either.” He untied the sash and slid the robe down her back, running his tongue down her neck and shoulders. Her hair, still pulled atop her head with a plastic clip, was wet around the edges and he released it and fluffed it with his fingers. “There. That’s better.”
She smiled and played with the hair on his chest. “Massage? Sounds good but shouldn’t we have something to eat first? I’m hungry.”
“Me too but not for food.” Taking her hand, he looked at her questioningly. Hopefully. Things were going too well to stop but it wasn’t just about sex. They’d connected. He felt comfortable with her and she seemed to feel the same with him.
“Okay,” she said, laughing. “You don’t have to give me those puppy dog eyes.”
Swooping her up in his arms, he carried her to the bedroom and laid her down on the bed. Closing his eyes momentarily, he reassured himself. She wants a massage and even though I’m not sure how a pro does one I can please her. “Turn over on your stomach,” he said, flexing his fingers like he knew what he was doing.
“Where are the scented oils?”
