a long swig and set it back down. I swirled the juice around my tongue for a moment before swallowing. Just in time.
I taste citrus. Citrus mixed with a different, subtler kind of sweet. His sweet. I open my eyes. He sits at the other end of the tub with a wicked smile, his bright blue eyes sparkling with mischief, and that worn leather cowboy hat on his head. Water laps at his chest, soaking the smattering of hair in the middle. He’s watching me watch him.
“What was that?” I ask. My tongue delights again in the taste of his kiss hanging on my lips. He cocks a crooked grin and slides toward me through the sudsy water. I can’t stop my whimper of anticipation, thinking how fucking sexy this man is.
“Clementine,” he says, before pressing his lips to mine. His tongue darts past my teeth, though I accept him willingly. I taste the fruit again, stronger. “They used to be my favorite … until you,” he drawls lazily, barely pulling back enough to speak.
I splash him as I try to grab the hat and throw it on the floor, but he blocks my hand and holds the hat on. He arches an eyebrow and chuckles, his mouth taking a deeper kiss this time. I feel his arms snake around me, fingers slipping over my skin.
I sink farther into the water, relieving my hardened nipples of the chill of the air. My legs coil around his waist, anchoring me to him as we both grapple for friction and hold. I moan loud, rocking against him, hard and ready for me. He growls and the sound dissolves into a hum as his lips suck and trail along any available skin he could reach.
I lose myself in the sensation of his hands roaming my body, tickling my hips, my thighs with the tips of his beautiful fingers—the tease. His eyes are hooded as he watches me fixedly though he continues to entice.
“I love the way you touch me,” I say.
He grumbles and crushes me again with his kiss, my head spinning in sensual overstimulation. But his hold on me is firm as he positions himself. I am aching for him.
I can’t restrain the volume of my plea as I beg, “Please.”
My eyes flew open with a harsh gasp of breath. Panting, the heat drained from my face. Sweat beaded along my forehead as my temples pound. I gripped the sides of the tub and pulled myself vertical in anticipation of the weakness that always follows. But I couldn’t bring myself to care how much energy it took from me. I would have him in this tub. My tub.
Holy hell, I need a time stamp on these things.
~
After I got dressed and made breakfast—this gift seemed to make me extra hungry—I called Vivi. As relaxing as the bath had been before the vision, I was frustrated. These untethered teases made me antsy and impatient. This clairvoyance of mine taunted me with answers to questions I haven’t asked.
Vivi groaned when she answered the phone. “Oh, thank God! I almost had to join Nash for brunch with quite possibly the most misogynistic ass hound this side of the Atlantic. Excellent trial attorney, but sweet baby Jesus, I might have had to puncture an eardrum with a toothpick.”
“Well that’s a mouthful.”
“Had to happen. What’s up, buttercup?”
I took a deep breath. I felt so melodramatic to complain.
“Uh-oh.” I heard her shift, maybe to a more comfortable sitting position. “Tell me.”
“I had another,” I said. When she didn’t breathe a word, I wasn’t sure if she was on the edge of her seat or giving me space. “It was him.” I didn’t realize I’d sighed longingly until she snickered.
“It staggers me that you are already so in love with someone you’ve never met. Think about that! I’m a psychologist! Mind equal-sign blown.”
“Shouldn’t that mean that you should commit me for being over-involved in a fantasy? I mean, I have no proof he even exists.”
Silence.
“Vivi?”
“I don’t like it when you sound smarter than me,” she snarked. “It’s embarrassing. They may come to take away my license and degrees.”
A labored chuckle
I taste citrus. Citrus mixed with a different, subtler kind of sweet. His sweet. I open my eyes. He sits at the other end of the tub with a wicked smile, his bright blue eyes sparkling with mischief, and that worn leather cowboy hat on his head. Water laps at his chest, soaking the smattering of hair in the middle. He’s watching me watch him.
“What was that?” I ask. My tongue delights again in the taste of his kiss hanging on my lips. He cocks a crooked grin and slides toward me through the sudsy water. I can’t stop my whimper of anticipation, thinking how fucking sexy this man is.
“Clementine,” he says, before pressing his lips to mine. His tongue darts past my teeth, though I accept him willingly. I taste the fruit again, stronger. “They used to be my favorite … until you,” he drawls lazily, barely pulling back enough to speak.
I splash him as I try to grab the hat and throw it on the floor, but he blocks my hand and holds the hat on. He arches an eyebrow and chuckles, his mouth taking a deeper kiss this time. I feel his arms snake around me, fingers slipping over my skin.
I sink farther into the water, relieving my hardened nipples of the chill of the air. My legs coil around his waist, anchoring me to him as we both grapple for friction and hold. I moan loud, rocking against him, hard and ready for me. He growls and the sound dissolves into a hum as his lips suck and trail along any available skin he could reach.
I lose myself in the sensation of his hands roaming my body, tickling my hips, my thighs with the tips of his beautiful fingers—the tease. His eyes are hooded as he watches me fixedly though he continues to entice.
“I love the way you touch me,” I say.
He grumbles and crushes me again with his kiss, my head spinning in sensual overstimulation. But his hold on me is firm as he positions himself. I am aching for him.
I can’t restrain the volume of my plea as I beg, “Please.”
My eyes flew open with a harsh gasp of breath. Panting, the heat drained from my face. Sweat beaded along my forehead as my temples pound. I gripped the sides of the tub and pulled myself vertical in anticipation of the weakness that always follows. But I couldn’t bring myself to care how much energy it took from me. I would have him in this tub. My tub.
Holy hell, I need a time stamp on these things.
~
After I got dressed and made breakfast—this gift seemed to make me extra hungry—I called Vivi. As relaxing as the bath had been before the vision, I was frustrated. These untethered teases made me antsy and impatient. This clairvoyance of mine taunted me with answers to questions I haven’t asked.
Vivi groaned when she answered the phone. “Oh, thank God! I almost had to join Nash for brunch with quite possibly the most misogynistic ass hound this side of the Atlantic. Excellent trial attorney, but sweet baby Jesus, I might have had to puncture an eardrum with a toothpick.”
“Well that’s a mouthful.”
“Had to happen. What’s up, buttercup?”
I took a deep breath. I felt so melodramatic to complain.
“Uh-oh.” I heard her shift, maybe to a more comfortable sitting position. “Tell me.”
“I had another,” I said. When she didn’t breathe a word, I wasn’t sure if she was on the edge of her seat or giving me space. “It was him.” I didn’t realize I’d sighed longingly until she snickered.
“It staggers me that you are already so in love with someone you’ve never met. Think about that! I’m a psychologist! Mind equal-sign blown.”
“Shouldn’t that mean that you should commit me for being over-involved in a fantasy? I mean, I have no proof he even exists.”
Silence.
“Vivi?”
“I don’t like it when you sound smarter than me,” she snarked. “It’s embarrassing. They may come to take away my license and degrees.”
A labored chuckle
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