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India glances around my shoulder.
"Jon," she says, her voice sounding hesitant. "How much bubble bath did you put in the tub?"
"I don't know," I reply, frowning. "A couple of big squirts. Why?"
"Oh my God," she says and puts down her glass of wine before running to the bathroom.
As I watch, bubbles start frothing from under the door. "What the fuck?"
"Oh, you put in too much!" She opens the door and a wall of bubbles falls out of the doorway and into the room.
She pushes her way through the bubbles to the tub and turns off the jets.
"Holy shit," I say, following her inside. I can barely see her through the white bubbles. We grab towels and start flapping them, trying to burst all the bubbles. For the next five minutes, we flap and slap and flop towels around, until most of the bubbles have been burst and are just faint soapy traces on the carpet and bathroom counter.
When we're done, we stand and look at each other.
Then we burst out laughing.
India's leaning against the counter and I'm standing beside the tub, wiping my eyes.
"We can still have a bath," I say, and I start to undress. She nods and undresses as well. Soon, we're both naked and we step into the huge oval tub and sit across from each other. The water is warm and fragrant and even without the jets, it's relaxing.
I take India's foot in my hands and start to massage it, kissing the sole of her foot before sucking on her little toe.
"Mmm," she murmurs, leaning back, watching me. "That feels a bit kinky. Do you have an unreported foot fetish?"
"The only fetish I have is for your entire body and mind."
She smiles coyly. "They're yours."
I put her foot down and then I crawl on top of her, my arms on either side of her shoulders. I float just above her, my body between her spread thighs, my erection pressing against her belly.
We kiss and when the kiss is finished, we lie in each other's arms and savor the moment.
"This is nice," she says, and I nod in agreement.
"It is," I reply. "Six months ago, who would have thought we'd be here now doing this?"
"Marina, apparently. And everyone else assumed we already were doing this."
"I was so angry when she had the nerve to invite an outsider to our team meeting after the convention. And for it to be a date for you, and a totally wrong man for you? I was livid."
"He was so totally wrong for me," she says, and we both laugh at the memory. "I can't even remember his name, but he told us how great he was. That I do remember."
"Total pencil-neck. Skinny neck, big head."
She grins. "As opposed to a small head and thick neck?"
"Exactly," I say and tense my upper body, trying to make my muscles pop. "In contrast, I have a big head and a big neck."
She laughs out loud at that. "You do have a big head," she says and presses her groin up against me, wrapping her legs around my hips.
"I do," I reply and press the head of my erection against her.
Those are the last words we speak for a while, and our last sounds besides moans of pleasure.
Later, after we've dried off and are wrapped in the hotel bathrobes, we lie on the king-sized bed and feed each other fruit from the gift basket TechCrunch sent us to welcome us to the conference. She pops a grape in my mouth and I chew, then I hold a chocolate-dipped strawberry out for her to nibble on.
