I swallow the lump in my throat. "You said you like baths, but you never get to take one."
She turns to face me. Her gaze is tender. Her hands clasp in front of her body, fingers weaving as she searches for what to say. "I don't have a hot water heater yet."
I gulp air that feels like taffy. Thick and sticky. Heavy with steam, but something else, too. Comprehension, maybe, and the slow burn of buried desire. "I found a solution."
She cocks an eyebrow, letting me know she'd like to know how I did it.
In my mind, I see all the burners, the boiling water, the switching of pots. "They left a lot of pots in the kitchen. Don't worry, I washed them before I used them. And I brought some from home—"
"You boiled the water?"
I nod. "I filled the tub halfway and ran room temperature water until it was full."
Jo swirls her fingers around the surface, her eyes fluttering closed. She's enjoying it even before she's in it. What a beautiful sight.
"Enjoy your bath, Jo." I reach for the door handle, my eyes cast down to give her privacy.
She clears her throat, drawing my attention back to her. She takes a single step from the edge of the bath, her gaze so intense I feel it deep in my chest, a pull, a draw, a magnetic force. She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth and bites down gently, her chest rising and falling with her breath.
Then her fingers find the top button on her shirt. The first one opens, then the second, showing me the swell of each breast held in by black lace. My breath hitches, getting stuck in my throat. She moves down to the third button, somewhere just above her navel, and the room spins.
This need I feel for her, this hunger, is a clear memory. I've felt this before. One other time. For her.
"Jo," I manage, my voice like tires on loose gravel.
She finishes her buttons and drops her shirt to the ground. "Come help me with the rest," she says, her voice low.
I'm there in mere seconds, reaching for her, cupping the back of her head in my hand. Just before our lips meet, I pause, only to drink in this moment with her. I want to make each second a minute, commit every movement to memory, so I relive this for the rest of my life.
And then I kiss her. Slowly, at first, as I learn her shape, the contours of her lips. Jo arches into me, digging her fingers into my shoulders, and my tongue presses against the seam of her lips. She opens up, tasting my mouth, biting down on my lip, drawing from me a sound that is as much a growl as it is a groan.
We become a flurry of activity. Her hands pull my shirt over my head. I unclasp her bra, tossing it aside. Her breasts are full and round, perfect. Jo runs her hands through my hair as I take my time with each, holding her upright when her back arches. "Now, Wyatt," she moans.
It is a small miracle we're both wearing sweats. They slide right off our bodies the way our jeans never would, and we step from them, kicking them aside. I'm naked now, but Jo still has on her underwear. I like that they don't match her bra.
She hooks her thumbs on either side, but I stop her. "I want to do it."
Her hands come away and I kiss her lips. Her chin. Her throat. Her chest, trailing down through the valley of her breasts. On my knees now, I drag my kisses over her stomach.
Down.
Down.
Down.
Until I'm there, breathing a hot breath through the fabric covering her. Above me, Jo lets out a garbled moan. It makes me smile. I don't know how I did something good enough in this life to be with this woman, but God help me, I'm never letting her go.
In one swift, fluid motion I pull down her remaining scrap of clothing and press my mouth to her. I take my time, hooking one of her legs over my shoulder until Jo is shaking and gripping the countertop behind me.
I stand up and watch Jo catch her breath. I can taste her on my lips, and all I want now is to feel her on me. Then I remember her bath, the bath I worked hard for her to be able to enjoy.
"Your bath," I say, and Jo peeks over my shoulder at the water.
"Get in," she instructs.
My thumb traces her collarbone. "It was for you."
She wraps her hand around me, stroking, and it becomes impossible for me to think about anything else. "Now it's for us." She releases me, nodding her head at the water.
