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“Are you serious?” I couldn’t hide my surprise at this turn our conversation had taken. “Like, get in the hot tub with you?”
“Sure. Unless you’ve got something else going on.”
Was probably going to go home and order some UberEats and kind of watch something streaming while I played around on my phone. You know—the usual.
Not that I wanted to say that out loud. But having or not having something better to do wasn’t really the issue. More that I’d gone from being worried out of my mind about seeing Sean again to being invited into his freaking hot tub.
“Nope. But you’re not planning on…you know…”
He glanced down at his towel. “Skinny dipping? Nah—you just happened to catch me before I was going to throw something on.”
OK—a soak could actually be good. And the venue would be a little weird, but it’d still give us a chance to dispel whatever lingering weirdness hung between us. A conversation was a conversation, right?
“Sure. But I didn’t exactly think ahead to pack a swimsuit.”
“That’s fine. Got plenty of spares for when people are partying over here. Second bedroom on the left should have a bunch in one of the drawers.” He flashed me another killer smile. “Go ahead and get changed—I’ll be out there.”
I nodded before heading off in the direction he’d mentioned, still feeling very flustered by what was going on. Seconds later I was in a spacious guest bedroom done up in a minimalist style, the door shut behind me. I didn’t waste any time going through the dresser and finding, sure enough, more than a few women’s swimsuits.
“Damn,” I said softly under my breath, leafing through the mostly skimpy two-pieces. “How many girls in bikinis does this guy have over here?”
I really didn’t want to know the answer. The guy had been kind of a ladies man back when I first met him. Back before the Lover Boys had even really hit it big, he was still famous enough around campus. I could only imagine the sort of girl attention he’d gotten now that he’d found fame in not one but two musical projects.
After a little sifting, I finally found a solid black one-piece that looked at least a little more modest than the string bikinis in there. I stripped down to nothing—really hoping he washed these things—before stepping into the suit and taking a look at myself in the nearby full-length mirror.
It was a…little more revealing than I’d imagined it was going to be. Sure, it was one-piece, but the cut was very, very high—high enough to make me glad I’d recently gotten my downstairs situation taken care off. And the top was the same story, low-cut enough that my boobs felt one bounce away from being exposed as Sean’s dick had been the day before.
I adjusted the top to be as modest as possible—which wasn’t very—before taking one last deep breath and heading out of the room, still wondering what the hell I’d gotten myself into.
Sean was gone when I stepped back into the main room of the house, and a quick glace through the back floor-to-ceiling windows showed that he was already in the tub, the back of his head facing me and his long, ropy arms draped over the side of the tub.
“Here goes nothing,” I thought as I headed back.
The scent of sandalwood hit me as soon as I was outside. “Didn’t waste any time with these.”
But Sean’s attention was on something else entirely—that “something else” being me in my swimsuit. For the first time since I’d shown up he didn’t look like total, easy charm. His wide-eyed expression looked more like he’d seen something that he had most certainly not been expecting.
He cleared his throat and shook his head, the smile returning.
“Nothing like some nice smells while you’re hanging out in the tub.” He gave a quick, inviting tilt of his head. “Come on in.”
His eyes moved over my body one more time, and I’d have been lying if I said that I wasn’t a little turned on by the attention. Me in my swimsuit had certainly captured his imagination.
And I was pretty darn OK with that.
I went up the small set of stairs that led up to the oversized tuba and climbed in.
The water was…damn. Just damn. Perfect temperature, and the jets made my tense muscles feel like melted butter. I was in heaven.
And the company didn’t hurt either. Like I’d seen at the Circus Maximus, Sean was still all toned, ropy muscles. He’d always been pretty trim, at least when I’d known him in college, but now, if anything, he’d put on a little bit of bulk. The good kind. And the skintight red-and-black-striped trunks didn’t hurt matters either.
A few beats of silence passed, and for a moment I’d let myself hope that maybe this would end up being a nice, silent soak—no awkwardness or heavy vibes or anything like that.
