Making Up Page 8

  “Oh my God! You have a Jacuzzi tub!” I follow her into the bathroom. She’s standing in the middle of the empty tub with her hands on her hips. “Please tell me you’ve used this at least once.”

  “I’ve used it at least once.” That’s untrue, but clearly it’s not what she wants to hear.

  She cocks her head to the side. “You’re lying. I can’t believe you haven’t taken a bath in here. If this were mine, I’d have a bubble bath every single damn night.”

  “You’re welcome to have one now, if you’d like.”

  “Don’t tempt me.”

  “Why not? Someone should get some use out of it.”

  She wrinkles her nose. “That would be weird.”

  “What would be weird about you enjoying my Jacuzzi?”

  “Oh I don’t know, Griffin, maybe because I’d be lounging in a bubble bath naked while you’re sitting out there doing whatever.” Her cheeks flush deeper as she flails toward the doorway I’m leaning against.

  I fight a grin. “Weren’t you planning to use my shower, anyway? How would that be any different?”

  “A shower is not the same as a bubble bath in a Jacuzzi that can fit four adult bodies.” The flailing and flushing amp up a few notches. “I mean, not that I think four adults should get into a Jacuzzi together or anything, especially not naked. I just . . . It’s just, I-I-I—”

  I try to save her from having to openly reject me. “I get it. You don’t want to be naked, covered in bubbles in my bathroom while I’m out there thinking about you being naked, covered in bubbles. It’s completely understandable.” Except based on the way her eyes flare and her cheeks flush even more, I’m not sure my attempt at diffusing the tension is working. I take a step back into the hall. “I’ll let you freshen up. Shower or bath, it’s up to you. I’ll be out there behaving myself, not thinking about you being naked.”

  I turn away, internally berating myself for fucking this up and making it unnecessarily awkward.

  “Griffin?”

  I pause and look over my shoulder. Bad fucking move. Cosy’s still standing in the middle of the tub, fingers at her lips, that long braid hanging over her shoulder, her clothes streaked with orange, like her skin. She’s caked in dust, with windblown hair. She looks like freedom wrapped in a beautiful package. One I’d like to unwrap and get my hands all over, dirty or not.

  “Do you need something? Your bag? I can grab it for you.”

  “No. I don’t need my bag.” She lifts a shoulder, looking uncertain. “Maybe you want to have a bubble bath with me?”

  It’s sort of a question. My eyebrows shoot up, and I’m pretty sure the speed with which my cock swells could go down in the Guinness Book of World Records for fastest hard-on reaction time.

  “Unless you don’t want to. I mean, maybe it’s not your thing. I can have a shower.” She grips the edge of the tub as if she’s preparing to get out.

  “I want to.” I take a step toward her. “Definitely.”

  A shy, flirty smile appears. “I thought it could be fun, and we have all this time before dinner.”

  “I think there’s bubble bath somewhere in here. They always leave a Jacuzzi package in these suites.” I don’t want to make assumptions, but getting into a bath together seems a lot like an invitation for sex. I’ve never been a jump - into - bed - right - away guy. Usually there are at least a few get - to - know - you dates before that happens. But I’ve been cautious with Cosy, more so than usual, possibly because she’s the first person I’ve made it past date one with since Imogen broke off our engagement. So it feels oddly like we’re moving at Mach 10 when we were crawling along before.

  Cosy turns on the water, testing the temperature with her wrist while I open cupboards, searching for the damn basket they always leave in suites for exactly this purpose. I find it in the linen closet with the white bathrobes. “Got it!” I hold up the bottle of bubble bath triumphantly and turn to find Cosy sitting on the edge of the Jacuzzi, watching the bath fill while she plays with the end of her braid.

  I unscrew the cap and cross over to the tub, sniffing the contents. It smells sweet and floral, but not overwhelming. I tip the bottle upside down and squeeze.

  “Oh my God!” Cosy grabs for it, which catches me off guard and the bottle slips from hand, landing in the tub with a splash.

  “Is it too strong?” Maybe I should’ve let her smell it first; bubbles are already forming, spreading across the surface as Cosy fishes the bottle out.

  “You don’t need a lot of this stuff, and you dumped, like, half the bottle in one shot.”

  “Oh.” I watch the scented foam expand impressively.

  “If you turn the jets on, the entire bathroom will be full of bubbles at this rate.” Cosy giggles. It’s a sweet sound.

  I give her an apologetic smile. “Should we start over?”

  “Nah, it’ll calm down eventually. I think.” She pulls her shirt over her head and drops it on the floor. She’s wearing a white satin bra, trimmed with lace. Well, it was white, but there are streaks of orange dirt marring the pale fabric. It’s screams innocence, and I have to wonder if that was in any way intentional.

  Cosy wears a lot of tanks—often sheer—and short shorts, so I’ve seen a lot of skin in the past two weeks, but this is very different. This is her undressing in front of me with the intent of getting naked. At least I think that’s what happening.

  “Let me help.” My voice is gravelly and low as I close the distance between us.

  She gives me a cheeky smile. “You think I can’t undress myself?”

  “I’m sure you’re very, very capable, Cosy, but I’m looking for any excuse I can to touch you right now. If that’s okay with you, of course.”

  “I’m okay with that.” Her teeth sink into her bottom lip.

  I cup her face in my hands and dip down to kiss her. Her palms settle on my chest and she tips her head to the side, inviting me to deepen it. I indulge for a few seconds before I pull away. Goose bumps flash across her skin as I flick the button open on her shorts and drag the zipper down, exposing the matching panties. I push the shorts over her hips and drop to one knee, sliding them down her creamy, tanned thighs. Cosy braces a hand on my shoulder as she steps out of them. I place a kiss below her navel before I stand again.

  Her eyes dart from my mouth to my chest. “I can help you too.” She tugs the hem of my shirt, fingers tickling my abs as she pushes it up. She’s much shorter than me, so I take over when it reaches my pecs and pull it over my head.

  She bites her knuckle and runs her free hand down my chest. “You’re like one of those statues in a museum, but not carved out of marble,” she says.

  I laugh, but my ego inflates. “Thanks, I think.”

  She lifts her gaze to meet mine. “Oh, it’s definitely a compliment. Please tell me you have to work for this. Or lie if you don’t. No one should be this cut without some effort.”

  “I spend a decent amount of time at the gym.”

  “That makes one of us,” she murmurs. She follows the treasure trail to the waistband of my shorts and tugs the belt free, unfastening it, then popping the button. I groan when she pulls the zipper down, my erection straining behind it. My shorts drop to the floor since, unlike Cosy’s, mine aren’t painted on my body. Without them, there’s no way of hiding my appreciation or my excitement, which looks like it’s trying to strong-arm its way out of my boxer briefs.

  Cosy makes a face I’m not sure how to read. “That’s nothing like a museum statue.”

  “What does that mean?” I’ve always considered myself pretty gifted in this department, so the possibility that she could be less than impressed is irksome.

  She smirks and flips her braid over her shoulder. “Listen to how offended you sound. Usually the peens are either missing or look like they belong on a toddler. This definitely doesn’t belong on a toddler.” She pokes the head of my erection through my boxers, making it twitch. Her eyes flip up to mine, and she does jazz hands,
grinning. “It’s alive!” She takes a couple dancing steps away from me and glances at the tub. The bubbles have risen about a foot above the edge and they’re still climbing.

  “Oh my God! Look at the mess you made!” Still wearing her bra and panties, she steps into the tub and sifts through the foam until she finds the taps and turns the water off. She gives me a saucy grin and sinks down, disappearing into the bubbles. “It’s like sitting inside a cloud!” She laughs and then sputters, “But it doesn’t taste as nice as I imagine a cloud would.”

  “I’d imagine clouds taste like nothing, since they’re made of water.” I leave my boxers on and step into the tub, pushing foam out of the way in search of Cosy. I find her on the opposite side, the only part of her that isn’t obscured is her face, but she has a bubble goatee decorating her chin. I sink down beside her and stretch my arm across the edge.

  “When I was a kid, I always believed clouds would taste like cotton candy or marshmallows.” She scoops up a handful of bubbles in her hand.

  “Bet that feels like yesterday,” I say, then realize how bad that sounds.

  Cosy’s mouth drops open, and she blows the handful of bubbles in my face. “Jerk.”

  “Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it came out.” I grab for her, but she’s slippery with suds and she slides out of my grasp, to the other side of the tub. I get a hold on her ankle before she gets too far and drag her back.

  She doesn’t fight to get away this time, but she also looks fairly unimpressed. Our legs tangle under the water as I pull her closer, hands roaming blindly over her curves as she straddles me. “You know, Griffin, you’re doing a shitty job of managing your daddy complex.”

  “It came out wrong. I don’t have a complex.” I brush bubbles out of her hair, which proves to be fairly impossible since we’re surrounded.

  “Are you sure about that? Maybe it’s a subconscious thing. Maybe you aren’t even aware you have one. Maybe you’ve been in denial.” She scoops up an armful of bubbles and dumps them on my head. Then drags them down the side of my face to my chin.

  “What’re you doing?”

  “Giving you a bubble beard.” Her tone implies the duh. She gives me a saucy grin and wags her brows. “Now you look like a dirty grandpa.”

  “It came out the wrong way.”

  “Relax, Griffin. I’m playing around with you.” She runs her fingers through my hair, flinging away the suds that cling to her hands. She does the same thing to my cheeks before she leans in and brushes her lips over mine. “Ten years isn’t that big a difference.”

  “Eleven.”

  “Close enough. Stop splitting hairs. It’s like you want something to feel guilty about.” She dips back down, and this time she sucks on my bottom lip.

  I wrap my arms around her and sink into the kiss. I ease my hands down her sides, gripping her ass to pull her closer.

  It’s probably a good thing we’re not completely naked, otherwise this could get dangerous quickly since the condoms are in the nightstand by the bed. We make out, kissing, hands roaming under the water, grinding on each other, neither one of us in a rush. It’s sweet and sexy and just . . . refreshing. That’s what Cosy is—free of pretense, she lives in the moment.

  She breaks the kiss and leans back, pressing her hips closer to mine. For a few seconds I’m confused, until her bra straps slide down her arms and she slingshots it over the side of the tub. It lands on the tile with a wet slap.

  What I want to do immediately is look down and cup what’s been offered, but I resist the urge to grope and ogle. I’m willing to delay gratification for a few precious seconds. I meet Cosy’s gaze. She’s chewing nervously on the inside of her lip, and both of her hands are at her throat, slowly trailing down her chest. I follow the movement, her fingertips moving over the wet swell and disappearing into the foamy water. It laps at her nipples, the tips of which are barely visible.

  I wrap my hands around her waist, lifting her out of the water, eyes still on hers as I kiss the space between her breasts, which are full and lush and perky as fuck. I kiss my way across the swell, savoring her sweet, soapy skin and her soft moan when I close my lips around her nipple and suck gently.

  Cosy rearranges herself so her chest is level with my face and her hands slide into to my hair. She grips the strands as I palm one breast and kiss the other. My name is a hoarse cry when I bite the swell on my way across her chest to give her other breast the same treatment.

  “I think bath time is over,” I growl into her skin. I move to sit on the edge of the tub, dropping her back in my lap. I encourage her to wrap her legs around my waist as I sling mine over the edge and my feet hit the floor. I have to adjust my hold as I stand, since we’re both slippery and sudsy. Cosy shrieks and clings tightly when I almost slip on the tile halfway across the bathroom. But I manage to get us to the bed without taking us to the floor on the way.

  As soon as I set Cosy on the end, she stops kissing my neck and brings my mouth back to hers. At the same time she tries to push my wet boxers over my hips with one hand and her panties down with the other.

  I chuckle and break the kiss. “One thing at a time, Cosy.”

  “I want to get naked with you.”

  “And I want to get naked with you, so why don’t we help each other out.” I slide my fingers into the waist of her panties and drag them over her hips. At the same time, she pushes my boxers over mine. Being wet makes everything more difficult, so we each use one hand to help the other out. It’s awkward, and we’re both laughing while still trying to kiss. I finally kick my soaked boxers off, and Cosy’s panties land on the floor at my feet in a wet heap.

  I curse when she wraps her hot hand around me and squeezes. Her other palm lands on my chest, and she leans back, eyes darting down. They flare, and her expression shifts to disbelief. “Jesus H. Christ with a magnifying glass. What the hell, Griffin?”

  I drop my own gaze. I’m far from fucking small, so I’m not sure what the magnifying glass comment is about. “What the hell, what?”

  She gives me a slow, tentative stroke, thumb brushing over the head, which makes my eyes roll up. “This seems like a lot.”

  I chuckle and her cheeks flush pink. “Don’t worry, it’ll only go where you ask for it.”

  “I hope you have lube,” she mumbles and then pulls my mouth back to hers.

  I don’t actually have lube, but I’m not too worried. I make her come with my fingers before I go down on her and make her come again. I kiss my way over her stomach, pausing at each nipple before I claim her mouth again. At some point, her braid comes loose and the dark, wavy strands spread out across the white comforter.

  She groans as I settle between her thighs, my erection rubbing against her sensitive skin. She wraps her legs around my waist, arching under me. I slip low, and for a moment the head nudges against her opening.

  If I weren’t so responsible, and highly aware of the consequences of such actions, I might think going in bare is a good idea. Thankfully, I’m not a fucking idiot. It would definitely feel good, but she doesn’t know my sexual history and I don’t know hers.

  “Griffin,” she rasps against my lips, a quiet warning.

  I push up on one arm so I can see her face. “I have condoms.”

  She licks her lips. “Okay. Good.”

  “Do you want me to get one?” I recognize that just because we’re here and naked, doesn’t automatically entitle me to sex. Would I like to have it? Fuck yes, but I’d like explicit confirmation that she wants me the same way I want her.

  She nods. “Please.”

  I kiss her again before I reach over to the nightstand and grab the box from the top drawer. It’s an unopened three-pack. I got it from the bar I took my buddy to for the bachelor party. I’m actually really damn lucky I bothered to keep them.

  I fold back on my knees, and Cosy presses hers together as I tear the box open.

  “Griffin.”

  “Yeah, baby?” I shake out the condo
ms and toss two of them on the nightstand maybe she’ll want to come back here after dinner and stay the night so we can use those too.

  “Can I . . .” She pushes up on her elbows.

  “You wanna do the honors?” I flip the foil square between my fingers and hold it out to her.

  She doesn’t make a move to take it from me. “Uh, I, uh . . . I haven’t done this before.”

  “That’s okay, I can show you how. We can do it together.” I don’t know why that little piece of information gives me so much satisfaction. I guess at twenty-two, it’s not all that strange that she hasn’t rolled a condom on before. No time like the present to learn how.

  “No. That’s not . . . I know how to roll a condom on.” She sits up, and her eyes bounce from my cock fisted in my hand to the condom I’m still holding out. “I haven’t done this before.”

  My brain is slow to make sense of that statement. “Haven’t done what? Had sex in a hotel room?”

  “Had sex before, period,” she mutters.

  “What?” I ask because I can’t have heard that right.

  She blows out an exasperated breath. “I’m a virgin.”

  I stare at Cosy for a few very long seconds and wait for her to laugh. She does not. Her face, however, turns a very vibrant shade of red.

  “I knew I should’ve kept my stupid mouth shut.”

  “You’re serious.” It’s a statement. Obviously she’s serious. “How is that possible?”

  Her brows pull together. “What?”

  “You work in a porn store.”

  She tips her chin up in what seems like embarrassed defiance. “So? What does that have to do with anything?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just . . . I mean. Fuck. I guess it doesn’t have anything to do with you being . . .” I can’t seem to finish that sentence without choking, so I clear my throat. “I figured if you worked in a place where you sell sex toys, which you know a shitload about, by the way, you might have some experience with them.”