That look she gives me, the gold flecks of her green eyes pulling me in, is the one I’m seeing right now when she’s asking me what we’re doing. What’s my bullshit response? Moments. Because I know better than anyone that’s all we really have. Because the thought of her leaving and going back to New York makes my chest ache. The thought of not seeing the smile that sets fire to my heart annihilates me, and I can’t go there. So moments, yeah, that’s what I tell her. Because that’s all we’ve got.
I draw her lips to mine, holding her to me, feeling her softness, tasting her sweetness. We stay like this, unmoving, just feeling one another for seconds or minutes, or it could be days because I’ve completely lost track of time, lost track of my life.
“Let’s go back, baby,” I finally say against her lips. “I want to be with you tonight. I want to hold you. Can I stay with you?”
“Yes,” she says, her voice the smallest whisper of breath.
Fran climbs off of me and situates herself back on the seat and I already miss her. My pants are drowned from her sex, the scent of her covering me and filling the space between us, making it difficult for me to concentrate on anything but doing that to her all over again.
She takes her phone out of her bag and types in the code to unlock it and gasps.
“What is it?”
“Oh my God. Peyton has texted me about twenty-five times and I have two messages from my mom.”
“Is Peyton okay?” I ask, wondering if this has anything to do with Caleb.
She scrolls through the messages while I try to focus on the road. “Yes.” She laughs, so it must be nothing serious. “She said she hadn’t heard from me so she wanted to know where I was and if I was okay, how things went with my mom, what you and I were doing. Oh, and she got our boss to let her stay a few extra days. But then she resorted to shouty capitals because I didn’t respond. So I’m texting her now telling her you just got me off in your car and it was the best orgasm I’ve ever had.”
I burst out laughing, but am hoping she’s not serious. “You didn’t just type that, did you?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she flirts, giving me all sorts of obscene ideas again, like getting her naked and going down on her before fucking her on the cool leather in the back seat of my car.
“No. I didn’t tell her that. That’s our little secret.” She winks at me and I like the fact that we’ve gotten away from talking about the heavy stuff, at least for the time being.
By the time we make it back to Fran’s room it’s nearly midnight and we’re both pretty wiped out. She slips her sandals off and flops on the bed and I join her. She stretches her arms over her head and cranes her neck from side to side.
“I feel like I’ve run a marathon. I’m so achy,” she says, a full-fledge yawn leaving her mouth.
I lean over her, kneading her shoulders and she groans. “I’m sure I can make it better. I’m quite the masseuse,” I brag, hoping she’ll take me up on my offer.
“Actually.…” She yawns again. “As good as that feels, I need a bath. Care to join me?”
“Race you there,” I joke, the thought of being naked with her in the warm water already has me hard. “Stay right here.” With a chaste kiss, I hop off the bed and head into the bathroom, shedding my t-shirt and jeans in a heap along the way and hearing a whistle from Fran as I do.
I twist the handle to start the warm water flowing in the tub and poke around to find some bubble bath. The bathroom is filled with every luxury you can imagine, from the fluffy robes to any type of lotion, soap, and shower gel you want. Now I just have to find them. After searching through a couple of drawers, I find a selection of bubble bath and randomly pick one before I pour it into the tub. I grab a bottle of shampoo and a sponge and sit them on the side.
When I come back out I find Fran on the bed with her eyes closed, a sudden onset of disappointment causes me to frown. I was looking forward to spending more time with her but I also know how exhausted she is and probably needs her sleep. There’s an extra blanket at the end of the bed and I unfold it to cover her up, bending down to place a kiss on her forehead. Her eyes pop open and my frown turns into a huge smile.
“I thought you were sleeping,” I say, propping a knee on the bed next to her.
She grins and puts a hand on my thigh, drumming gently. “And miss out on a bath with you? I don’t think so.”
“Come on.” I help her off the bed and lace my fingers through hers. Even though we’re only walking to the bathroom, I still feel the need to touch her.
“It’s a great bathtub, isn’t it?” she says, admiring the raised rectangular tub encased in marble. “I have a nice tub in New York but compared to this, it’s subpar. I think I need an upgrade.”
“Yeah, well, people pay big bucks to be able to bathe in a marble tub, I guess.” I spin her around and unzip the back of her dress and she steps out of it, leaving her once again in that killer lace bra and panties. I wrap my arms around her waist from behind and press a kiss to her neck, closing my eyes and inhaling the scent of jasmine. “Are you sure you want to take a bath?” I ask, my voice raspy, my cock pushing into her ass.
She whimpers, rubbing up against me. “I think I’d like to be naked with you in the bath…first.”
“I like that word first very much,” I tell her, reluctantly letting her go and removing my boxers while she rids herself of the tiny scraps of fabric she has left.
She sticks one foot in the tub, then the other, before turning around and reaching for my hand. Her gaze drops to my erection and lingers there.
“I know it’s hard not to look…it’s okay.” I chuckle and grab hold of her hand, falling in when she yanks me into the water.
Moving behind her, I tug her against me and she slides between my legs while I engulf her in my arms. The warm water sloshes around us, a soothing and peaceful calm to the end of our day.
“This feels so good,” she says, arching her head back, her hair a wet canvas against my chest.
“You feel so good,” I whisper, resting my lips near her ear, sucking her lobe into my mouth, and she makes one of her plethora of sexy noises that drive me wild. “So I was thinking about something earlier,” I continue, cupping handfuls of water and dripping them onto her arm, “we’ve gotten to know each other backwards.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, most people learn the basics first, but we learned the deep stuff. So now I want to know some of the basic stuff. Actually, I want to know everything, but we can start with the basics.”
“Okay,” she replies, and there’s a smile in her voice. “Shoot.”
“Favorite Band or singer?” I ask, as my fingers mesh with hers.
“Hmph…that’s a tough one, you know how much I love music. Hmph,” she says again, as if I’ve stumped her. “Okay, favorite band is Parachute. Favorite singer is James Morrison. You?” she questions, and her excited tone tells me she likes this game.
“Coldplay for the band and Tyrone Wells for the singer/songwriter.”
I hook my legs over hers and reach for the sponge with my free hand, dipping it in the tub to soak it with water. “What’s your favorite book?”
“You’re asking some difficult questions.” She laughs, and the happy sound vibrates through my chest. “It’s hard to choose just one because I have so many. But if I have to, I’d say “The Edge of Never” by J.A. Redmerski. What about you?”