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“Ignore it,” he says, voice neutral.
“But -- ”
“Silas has strict orders. No calls for me. I have my emergency phone if it’s life-or-death. Those aren’t.” He crosses the room and puts his hands on my shoulders, rubbing them slightly, his thumbs moving in seductive circles that stoke a fire in me. “Let’s take a bath.”
“Together?”
He bites his lower lip, then frowns. “Or alone, if you want.”
“No, no!” I stammer. “We can, together.” I look at my sling. “I just don’t know...”
“Wait till you see the tub. I requested one with an accessible door.”
“A bathtub with a door?”
He motions toward the bathroom. When we walk in, I see.
Drew has truly taken care of all the details.
The bathtub is enormous, and taller than usual. It has seats in it on opposite ends, and a small door that he opens with a flourish.
“This is a bathtub for old people,” I say, chuckling.
“We’ll be old people someday,” he says with a shrug. “And we’ll do it together.”
I try to imagine him with silver strands in his brown hair, with age lines (never wrinkles, Mom says – just age lines...) and that older, sophisticated look men acquire. He is my husband.
Mine.
Forever.
A rush of desire overwhelms me, plucking my breath, making me ache for him in a way I didn’t think I could feel ever again. It’s all coming back now. My diamond ring sparkles in the low light of the room as Drew pulls me into his embrace, whispering in my ear.
“If this is too much, say so.”
“It’s too much,” I say, “but I love it. I love you.”
He kisses me, searching and sweet, then bold and strong. Every embrace is at an angle, my arm a third wheel in our relationship. As the kiss ends, he reaches for my shirt, unbuttoning the front buttons, working carefully.
“Can I help you undress?”
“Yes.” I’m not shy, to my surprise. Just skittish, a little cold, and covered with aching reminders of what happened to my poor body. Once he has me fully undressed, he motions for me to sit inside the bathtub on one side, then he quickly makes himself nude, climbing in to the other seat, turning on the faucet.
“We sit in here and it fills up around us?” I marvel. He grabs a hotel-provided container of bubble bath. Sickly-sweet vanilla scent fills the air, bubbles foaming instantly in the shallow water at our feet.
“Yes. We just wait. As the water rises, our bodies acclimate, and then we enjoy. Like foreplay,” he jokes, but there’s no smile on his face.
Just desire.
Within minutes, the water is up to my breasts, threatening to get my shoulder wet, so he cuts off the flow. My breasts bob in the bubbles, the feeling of soaking divine. I’ve only taken showers with plastic bags all over my arm, so a bath is a piece of heaven.
A bath with Drew is even better.
“Drew?”
“Yeah?”
“What if I changed my mind?”
