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Fuck, she’s beautiful. So much more so than I realized before I spoke to her. And now I’ve been inside her. I think about the groceries waiting in her kitchen, how once I realized we would fuck first, I had planned to make her dinner afterward. Suddenly I can’t abide that plan.
I ask her, “Are you hungry?”
“Not that hungry, but I could go for something.”
I need to feel her skin against mine for a little longer first. I scoop her up and toss her carefully over my shoulder, then I stride off toward her room.
“What are we doing?” she laughs, gripping my waist with her arms.
“You’ll see.”
I carry her into the bathroom, where I set her on her feet and start the tub.
I realize she just showered—she had a towel on her head when I got here—but I can’t seem to help myself. I want to hold her. There’s no other way to do it without telling her I need it. And I don’t want to show her that yet. I’m not sure I can.
“Do you like tacos?” I ask as I adjust the water temp.
“Is that what you brought in the giant backpack?”
I glance over my shoulder, giving her an exaggerated poker face that’s meant to make her laugh. “Is that what you want to be in the giant backpack?”
“I’d like that.” She smiles.
“Well you’re in luck.” I get the water hot, the way I think she likes it, and sit back on my heels while Gwenna pulls her shirt and bra off. She crosses her arms over her chest as she steps into the tub and dips her feet into the rising water.
“Mmm. That’s nice and hot.” I watch as chills spread over her smooth skin. She pulls her shoulders up around her ears and tucks her arms around her hips. Her brown eyes find mine. “Get in with me. You know you want to.”
She curls herself into a little ball right in front of the faucet, and I pull my shirt over my head. I turn slightly as I get out of my boxer-briefs, so she can’t see how hard I am just from watching her sit in a bathtub. I take a second to catch my breath and then I fold myself into the tiny space behind her.
This tub is so small, I wouldn’t think I could fit into it alone, but with Gwenna curled up in the front, it’s almost comical.
Right on cue, she looks over her shoulder and laughs. “Stretch your legs out, silly.” She reaches back and grabs my shins. “Wrap around me. Better yet—switch places! I can squeeze right in behind you.” Her eyes widen in excitement. “I want to wash your hair!”
I try to think of why she’d want to, and all I can come up with is maybe she thinks it looks unruly or dirty. I run my hand through it.
“Are you picky about when you wash it or how you style it?” she asks.
I feel my brows scrunch as I shake my head.
“Okay, good.” She sits up straighter, reminding me hilariously of an energetic little meerkat. “I’m a sucker for guys with pretty hair, yours especially. If you let me wash it I’ll…bake something after we have dinner. Something you really like. Or—something else. I’ll owe you one.”
I shake my head in confusion, even though the eager look on her face has me laughing. “Okay… You don’t owe me,” I add.
She’s out of the tub with a giant slosh of water, dripping on the rug as I scoot up, bending my legs so she’ll have space to sit behind me.
I’m not prepared for the feeling of her smooth, warm body settling behind mine. As she spreads her legs, her little feet scooting around my thighs and tucking over them, I’m painfully hard.
She wraps her arms around my shoulders and pulls me back against her. I grit my teeth and try to think of something grim—like IEDs. I don’t put my full weight on her, but I’m pretty sure she doesn’t notice. I see her grab a green thermos from one ledge of the tub.
“I keep this in here for when I make my own bath scrub out of coffee grounds and coconut oil.” She fills it up from the tub, then tilts my chin up and smooths my hair off my forehead.
With one hand shielding my forehead from the warm deluge, she pours water over my hair. Chills dart all across my shoulders. My dick gets even stiffer.
She repeats the process, soaking my hair in the soapy-scented water. Then she rests her right elbow on the tub’s side. “Lean back in the corner of my arm.”
I do, even though I feel a little like a doll or some shit.
“This is good.” I see her smiling at an angle that puts her upside down for me. “It’s like the beauty parlor. Just relax.” She sifts her fingers through my hair, and I can’t help chuckling. The beauty parlor. This girl.
