Excerpt
I pulled the cord to shut the curtains, then slipped off my bra and walked over to the bathroom.
He met me at the door, a towel slung around his waist.
Kissing my neck, he said, “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you. I want to make you come tonight. Many times.”
“It’s been a long day.” I looked over at the tub, which was the size of a multi-person jacuzzi. Dalton had turned the water on and it was filling via multiple spouts. “Let’s pace ourselves,” I said.
As the tub filled, I carefully removed my beautiful new watch and set it on the counter.
I climbed into the hot, welcoming bath, and soon we were bobbing around in sudsy, fragrant hot water. (Okay, one of us was “bobbing” a little more than the other, and I do mean my peaches.)
I’d never been in such a fancy hotel room before, and I wouldn’t have been surprised to learn Presidents had stayed in that suite. The bathroom alone was bigger than should be legally allowed, on account of spoiling people forever. After a night there, how could I ever go back to my own hovel of a bathroom? With the sink and the tub and the toilet all sharing the same room? (This fancy bathroom had a separate enclosed space for the potty, in case you’re wondering, and, yes, there was a bidet, too.)
We took our time soaking in the tub, playing footsies and making eyes at each other from opposite sides of the tub.
“Does this hot tub remind you of anything?” Dalton asked.
“Do you mean the time we almost got shot by some crazy guy with a shotgun?”
“That was a good day.” He took a breath and disappeared down into the water. His hands pulled my knees apart, and he dove at my pussy with such speed, I practically screamed, but it turned into a sigh when he just gave me a gentle, underwater lick.
He surfaced in front of me, wiped the water from his eyes, and kissed me.
It had been too long since I’d felt his lips on mine, but now that we were kissing, the time and distance disappeared.
After a moment, he pulled away.
“That was a great kiss,” he said.
“You’re welcome.”
He smiled, looking almost shy. “Earlier today, at the airstrip, you made me a promise.”
I gazed into his beautiful green eyes, made brighter by the hot water of the tub. “I did? That doesn’t sound like me, because I make threats, not promises.”
He grinned wider. “I said that if I kissed you, everything would get complicated. You agreed with me, and promised me nothing short of disaster.”
That did seem familiar. “How do you have such a good memory? Oh, duh. From memorizing scripts. Wow, I’m going to have to be careful what I say around you.”
He kissed me again, then settled onto his knees before me in the enormous tub. “I do remember things. You and Shayla rented an apartment, sight-unseen, when you went away for college. You said the landlord must have taken the photos from a ladder, outside the windows, to make the place look bigger.”
I splashed some water his way jokingly. “Showoff. Let me think about this. Your first apartment had rats and a toilet in the kitchen.”
He laughed. “A tub, but close enough.”
“And look at us now, in this fancy-schmancy hotel bathroom. It’s a good thing one of us has talent and good looks, and the other is great at playing a vampire.”
His eyes flew open in mock anger. “Someone’s going to pay for that horrible joke.”
I was running through a few comebacks in my head when I noticed his attention drifting down to my breasts, looking like pale, flesh-colored islands in a sea of bubbles. I ran one hand down the middle of my breasts seductively, then cupped both of them and pinched my nipples to firmness.
His eyes didn’t stray from the waterline. I continued to stroke my fingertips around my breasts, enjoying the look of concentration on his face.
He swept the surface bubbles aside so he could see all of my body.
“That’s new,” he said, looking down at my new tattoo, on the inner edge of my hip bone.
“Oh, that. I had a lapse of judgement in LA.”
He traced the tattoo with his finger. “You had more than one lapse of judgement in LA.”
“But it’s cute, right? My tattoo?”
“Doves Cry. Of course it is. Everything’s cute on you.”
I smiled, and then relaxed in the warm water as he ran his hands along my thighs.
“Touch yourself,” he said, and I knew he meant further down than my breasts.
He waved more bubbles aside, so the water was clear. I settled down into the tub further, and I parted my legs so he could see everything. I slid my hand down my front and theatrically ran my index finger up and down over my clit. Damn, but that felt good, especially with him watching.
I could feel my cheeks flushing, but I couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment, or arousal, or both.
His voice deep and thick, he said, “Keep going.”
I opened my mouth to say something lippy about me doing his job for him, but the expression on his face was so serious. I slid down further, curving my spine to a comfortable shape. Self-conscious of how much I was hunching, I rolled my shoulders back and adjusted my position so my arm wasn’t squashing my right breast in half, but angled underneath. That small change, however, put my hand in an awkward position.
Dalton must have sensed this, because he said, “Don’t worry about a performance. I don’t want porn. I want to see the truth. Do you trust me enough to show me your true beauty?”
“I don’t know. Can you kiss me some more?”
“Yes,” he breathed, and he moved in close again, licking and sucking my lips, then kissing me as we shared one breath, back and forth.
Mimi has some very talented musician friends that created an original song for the Peaches Monroe Series!
Andrea is a 2005 graduate of Cornell University and does not currently use her degree in Development Sociology. She does, however, use her people skills and love for writing every day. She and her partner, Charles Sheehan-Miles, live and write together in Massachusetts
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