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“Come again?”
“Soaking is magnificent.” She sits up and gestures for me to scoot in behind her once I’ve got my leg off. “And soaking with a hot guy is the absolute best.” Resting back against me, she puts her wineglass on the ledge with mine and then guides my hands so that I’m touching her breasts. “But penetration in the tub, in a river or the ocean? No bueno. It’s irritating.”
“You’ve tested this theory out?”
She turns around, changing positions so that we’re chest to chest, and my Lord, the feel of her wet skin on mine is as close as I’ll ever get to heaven. “I’m certainly not a virgin,” she tells me as she shifts her hips to press against my dick.
I run my hands down her back, cup her ass and give her a squeeze. “I’ve never gone deep sea diving with a girl, so I’ll take your word for it.”
“No shower sex?”
“Yes to the shower, no to the ocean, river or lake experience. And it’s not like I was a saint or anything, but the opportunity just never came up.”
“You didn’t miss out on anything. Trust me.”
Slipping one hand lower, I cup her between the legs and she lets out a sexy little whimper. “Sure it doesn’t feel good?”
“Mmm...It’s this, the lead up that feels good.” She rolls her hips to get off on the contact. “But I prefer a bed or dry land for the missile launch.”
“Fuck,” I let out on a laugh. “The missile launch?”
“Yeah.” She reaches down between us. “And this missile packs a punch, but there’s plenty of time for fun and games later.” She turns back around and rests against me, reaches for our glasses and hands one to me. “This is nice,” she whispers after taking a sip of her wine.
“It’s just what I needed.” And I mean it. I’ve needed whatever this is. Intimacy, touch, comfort. I take another sip of my wine and slip my free arm underneath Grace’s breasts, resting there.
I could fall in love with this girl.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Grace
“I don’t want to take you home.”
“Can’t say that I want to go, but I do need to check my mail, water my plants and,” I look down at the wrinkled shirt that’s doing double duty, “get some laundry done.”
Last night was as perfect as it gets. Sweatpants and t-shirts, on the couch drinking wine and eating yummy noodles right out of the takeout containers. We huddled together watching the Pirates kick the Reds’ butts, and then curled up together in bed. No sex. Too tired. But it didn’t matter one bit. Maybe it was even better because we didn’t.
“Ugh,” he groans looking down at his phone. “My mother just left a message reminding me about lunch again.” He looks over to me to gauge my reaction and I’m pretty sure I’m giving off a deer in the headlights look. “Too soon to meet the fam?” he asks, and when I nod, he says, “I thought so.”
I’m thinking it’swaytoo soon. Like, I could marry Owen and never feel the need to introduce him to my crazy assortment of parents and step-parents. I hardly even know the twins my father inherited when he married the young hottie who used to manage his radiology practice. But when Owen smiles at me, I can see that he’s masking disappointment.
Just because my family is dysfunctional doesn’t mean that every family is. It’s only lunch. How bad could it be?
* * *
Awful.
It was seriously awful.
Imagine having a tooth pulled while undergoing a Brazilian wax for the first time with no prep. Yeah, if given the option I’d go for the wax-tooth pull combo without a second thought.
Sunday brunch is apparently athingin the Hanson home. Owen’s parents, the Honorable Maxwell Hanson and his bride of thirty-nine years, Marianne, are picture perfect.My bride of thirty-nine years—that’s how she was introduced.
She also carries the title of hostess extraordinaire because the woman cooked an entire table full of delectable dishes single-handedly. My own mother would scoff at the effort it took to pull off a spread like that.
I should mention that while Owen’s father bestowed maybe ten seconds of attention on me, his mother saw no such need. She said nothing when we were introduced. Nada. She was wide-eyed when we walked in the door holding hands, looking over her shoulder every two seconds to where a crowd was mingling on the back deck.
“Who’s here?” Owen asked her.
