“Well, okay. Maybe not perfectly normal. You know in that movieShamewhen he’s wandering around with it dangling away and everyone did a collective gasp? It’s kind of like that. I have a lot of excessive dangle. And you just can’t show excessive dangle in a romantic drama. Arthouse only, for sudden shocking penis.”
She wished she didn’t know what he was talking about. She wished she didn’t even know what a penis was at this current moment in time. But alas she did, and so now she had to do her very best to minimize the image in her head.
“This is the most insane conversation I’ve ever had. Are you just trying to brag about your massive penis in a roundabout sort of way?”
“I swear I’m not. This is the honest-to-God truth.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“You can peep if you want to.”
“And get eaten by this supposed sea monster? No thank you.”
“Come on. I need you to wash my back, anyway.”
“What am I, your lackey?”
It wasn’t the response she wanted to give. But it was the only solid refusal she could think of on short notice. A snorting laugh would have come out fake and full of inappropriate blushes, and storming off in a huff wasn’t the tone she wanted to strike. She wanted something funny and lighthearted, and came fairly close withlackey.
Unfortunately, she also left the door open for his answer.
“Okay...how about I beg you to wash my back, and tell you how much I’d love to have your hands on me, and if you’d only consider I’ll be in your debt forever.”
Oh, his answer. Did he realize how he sounded, when he spoke like that? Was it intentional or just a side effect from years of doing love scenes he didn’t actually mean? She had to imagine it was the latter, but her insides wanted to tell her differently. Her insides were buying it hook, line and sinker.
She almost swooned right off the toilet and into the tub, even though neither of those things were possible. Swooning wasn’t a real action, and the tub was around ten feet from her. She would have had to float for about a meter before getting anywhere close—something that seemed more possible as the moments ticked on.
All she could currently think about was doing just as he’d said. Her hands, smoothing over those incredibly round and incredibly large shoulders. His skin against her skin, just rubbing and sliding through that sheen of soapy water...the thought alone was near hypnotic. It was more thannear.
It made her tell him something really stupid.
“Maybe our minds are connected,” she found herself saying, in a voice that didn’t sound like her own. Somehow her tone had turned sleepy and hungry all at the same time, and it was obvious he could hear it.
His answering expression was sleepy and hungry, in return.
“You’ve been wanting to do it too?” he asked, and he just sounded so...excited. He wasn’t supposed to be excited, for God’s sake. He was supposed to be aloof and vaguely contemptuous at the idea of her wanting anything—a thought that seemed to fit so well it made her a little guarded again.
“Kind of,” she said, but she needn’t have.
His excitement was now so enormous it was actually starting to suck her in. He clapped his hands and called her a sweetheart, and once he’d addedI tell you what—you do me and then I’ll do you, she knew she was done for. She came close to standing just because of his expression, all sin and grin. But the wordsdo youreally finished her off.
Suddenly she was by the tub, with almost no idea how she’d gotten there.
“Want me to lean forward, or are you happy with me just like this?”
She couldn’t answer him, and not just because he was being a rotten tease. He was almost biting one corner of his lip and there was a laugh brewing inside him, she could see it. But that wasn’t the problem. No, the problem was that she didn’t want him to lean forward at all, and just couldn’t say.
If she said, he’d know what she meant. He’d know that she was just trying to work up the courage to look over him, and if he leaned forward she wouldn’t be able to see anything. He’d be covering the best bits, and dear God, she really wanted to see the best bits. Her curiosity practically demanded satisfaction on that score.
And that just left her silent and stiff, unsure of what to do.
Should she kneel? Kneeling would probably be the best move. It would answer his question without using words, but might also seem quite innocent.
“Oh so you’re just gonna get right in there.”
Fuck fuck fuck, it did not seem innocent at all. She looked as if she’d bobbed down to get a closer look. She felt as though she’d gotten out her goddamn magnifying glass—even though she hadn’t so much as glanced yet. She’d fixed her gaze on the left side of his head, and was currently refusing to accept that any other body part existed.
He was just one big ear.
