I reach behind me, motioning with my hands where to stop. “Nothing above here.” He works the conditioner into my hair, tender and careful. “Why didn’t you react at the bar?” I say.
He pauses his ministrations, “Is that something you want? For me to react? Try and defend your honor or something?” He sounds a little defensive. No, defensive isn't right, maybe taken aback by my question.
“No, no. That’s not what I mean. I’m just wondering why you didn’t react to him. I think I expected a different reaction or something.”
“Of course I wanted to punch him in the fucking face, but would that have made it better or worse for you?” There’s a hintof anger seeping into his tone before I hear him take a breath and say, “I don’t ever want to make things worse for you.”
Oh.
I spin back around and face him, covering my chest with both my fists, attempting to lighten the mood again, “I’m going to look like a racoon. I didn’t take my make-up off before I got in here.”
“Then you’ll be the sexiest racoon I’ve ever seen.” He places a chaste kiss to my lips like it’s something we do; just casually kiss each other, before holding up the bottle of body wash and raising his eyebrow at me. I nod my head yes and hold out my hand, exposing my chest to him. His eyes immediately fall to my tits and he smiles like he’s looking at his favorite birthday meal. My hand is still suspended in mid air, waiting for him to squirt body wash into my palm. “No funny business, remember.”
“I swear I’m not trying anything, but baby, I’m only a man. If there's a pair of tits one foot in front of me, especially if they’re yours, I’m going to look. Let me look at you please.”
“You have five seconds.”
“Sixty.”
“Ten.”
“Thirty.”
“Ten.”
“Fine,” he says, “but I also get to touch?” I roll my eyes and nod at him, pulling my lips between my teeth to stop myself from smiling. He looks downright giddy for a ten second titty grab. He sets the body wash down on the ledge and grabs both of my breasts with his hands, cupping each one and pushing them together. He massages the flesh and pinches both nipples between his thumb and forefinger, tugging on my piercings. His ministrations have a direct line to my center, arousal blooming under his touch.
“Okay, times’ up.”
He drops his hands without a fight and grabs the body wash, squirting some of it in both our open hands. I’m a little self conscious to wash between my legs with him watching, but thankfully Will turns his body, giving me his back and some privacy.
I wash myself, thinking about tonight over and over. “I’m really proud of you,” I say. “For your applications, but also your game tonight.” I can feel his eyes on me from behind, but I keep going. “I’m excited to see what school you get into. And I’ve been thinking that I might want to try coming to your next home game.”
His wet slippery chest glides along my back. He rests his chin on my shoulder. “Thank you. I’d like that.” His soapy hands run down both my arms. “I like knowing you're watching me,” he says, letting me go and turning around. “And I wasn’t joking about taking you out on a real date. Does next Sunday morning work for you? Not in two days, I’ll be gone for a game, but the Sunday after?”
I’m trying to remain cool and calm and collected, but I really want to freak out. “Maybe? I might have plans with Miranda, but they’re flexible. What time are you thinking?” I’m impressed with how confident I sound. I finish washing myself and start rinsing out the conditioner. Will’s hands are on my hair before he responds.
“Does ten thirty work?”
He turns the water off and pulls back the shower curtain. The small bathroom is fogged up, steam curling in the air. He steps out first, resting a hand against the wall to balance as he steps over the rim of the tub. He grabs the towel off the hook, handing it to me, before grabbing a towel from under my sink and drying off his legs.
“Ten thirty works. What kind of outfit should I be wearing?”
“Something casual. Really casual. The more casual the better. And no heels. Definitely sneakers.”
I start running through all my clothes in my head for extremely casual while also being cute enough to wear on a date. “I swear if you take me to the gym for our first date.” I attempt to sound threatening, but Will’s smirk on his face says it came off less than lethal.
“I’m not taking you to the gym. But maybe you should pack a spare change of clothes just in case.”
I brush my hair and take off my racoon make up before prepping my toothbrush, trying to rack my brain for where Will’s going to take me. I know he’s not taking me for a run, because I would simply sit down if that were the case. Will’s tooth brush appears in his hand and I add a line of toothpaste to his too. We both brush our teeth side by side, then don our clothes in comfortable silence.
Before I get into my bed I ask, “Hot or cold?” He looks confused; I point to his knee. “Hot or cold?”
“Oh. Hot.”
Will turns off all the lights, double checks the door is locked, and plugs in both our phones while I dig around under my bed for the heating pad I use for cramps. He slides into my bed on his back and lets me arrange the heating pad around his knee. I stuff my pillow between his arm and chest, laying on my side against him, hand over his muscular pectoral thinking about Miranda again.
I know that this moment is probably not the best time to have any more serious conversations, but I have to. I’m too worked up over the shower and washing my hair and asking me on dates and kissing me in front of his friends. “Are you having sex with anyone else?”
