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And oh, the things they were about to be privy to again, way up close and personal.
In his bedroom he picked up his MP3 player and portable speakers, then grabbed a couple of stubby candles he kept on hand for when the power went out. They didn’t smell and were sort of misshapen, but he’d stick them on the back of the toilet and give the place some ambience.
A quick detour to the nightstand netted him exactly zippo condoms. Great. Maybe she’d think to bring some. Or maybe she’d make his life complete and let him experience heaven via the slide of her bare skin on his.
A guy could hope.
At the last second he remembered his toy comment. Grinning, he snatched his favorite and strode into the bathroom to set everything up. He grimaced and bypassed the “babymaking music” playlist on his MP3, an unfortunate reminder of his ex-wife’s sucky sense of humor—and something he’d have to delete as soon as he figured out how—and zeroed in on something much more appropriate.
Namely the Beatles’ greatest hits, starting with “Ticket to Ride” on repeat.
He turned on the hot tub and dumped a bunch of bubble crap in it before turning on the jets. He’d just lit the candles and hit the lights when Sara appeared in the doorway, auspiciously clad in a towel. “Well, look at you,” he said, studying the play of candlelight over her long, sleek legs.
“I left my pajamas on the bed. And I locked the door. Then put a chair under the knob.” A small smile lifted her lips at his laughter. “I’m lying about the last part.”
“Whatever makes you feel more comfortable works for me.” He stepped closer and freed her hair from its pesky knot. “Though I insist on lack of clothes and loose hair. It’s a bathroom requirement.” He tugged on her towel and let it fall on the floor between them. “There. Much better.”
“It is.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her mouth to his pec. “So why are you still dressed?”
He released a dramatic sigh as he gestured toward the room. Bubbles bubbled, candles flickered, the Beatles jammed. “I’ve been slaving over this bathroom for hours and you don’t even say anything nice before you try to get me naked? I have feelings, you know.”
“You did a great job. Love the candles. Love the bubble bath.” She tugged on the button of his jeans and yanked down the zipper. “Mmm. Especially love that you
’re commando.”
He swatted her bare ass. “We do aim to please. Now get in that tub and get nice and wet for me.”
She batted her lashes at him. “I’m already nice and wet for you.”
“Tease,” he growled.
Her laughter floated across the room as she sank into the tub. An instant later it changed into a moan. “Oh God, that’s good.”
Brad finished stripping and set his MP3 player on the rim before shifting Sara forward so he could slip in behind her. He’d no sooner settled into the frothy hot water than she let out a yelp and burst to her feet. “I forgot something. Be right back.”
Transfixed by the soapy rivulets coasting down her curvy form, he blinked and tried to respond. Too late. She was already skipping out the door, splashing droplets as she went.
“Bring back condoms,” he called, belatedly remembering he wasn’t supposed to be home. Though Kim would know he was once she heard the music or saw his truck in the drive.
A satisfied grin slid across his face as he stretched his arms across the back of the hot tub. Fine, maybe he was trying to get caught Sara-handed. So sue me.
She returned with a bright blue, ribbed cylinder in one hand and a strip of condoms in the other. His brow winged up. “Rather large, don’t you think?”
“I only buy gorilla-size condoms for you, dear.”
“As you should. But I was referring to your…implement.”
“You told me to bring my favorite.” She shrugged as if she hadn’t shown up with the King Kong of vibrators. With a flick of her wrist, the strip of condoms slithered to the floor next to the tub. She stepped toward it, looking around. “Where’s yours, by the way?”
“Doctor Carmichael, you astound me. Here I think you’re a professional, and you’re getting your freak on with mammoth dildos and young studs.” He grinned and locked his hand around her hip, dragging her even closer.
“Wait, where’s your—” His mouth closed over her warm, sweetly fragranced pussy and she whimpered. “Never mind. Your tongue’s toy enough for me.”
He nuzzled her, breathing in the combined scent of strawberry bubble bath and her delicious musk. “Don’t see any shriveling here. Let me do a thorough examination before I give you my firm diagnosis.”
“Firm, eh?” She sounded wryly amused, and he knew why. His cock was already doing its best impression of a periscope, surging up from the water the moment he tasted her excitement.
“Very.” He banded his arm around the backs of her thighs and used his other hand to open her up to his mouth. Slowly, he licked her from the top of her mound down to her quivering slit and savored her low moans and the way she softened. She was so eager and wanton in her approach to pleasure—one more thing they shared. There were a lot of them.
