A giant white tub that looked like a bowl, gray stone walls and clear glass partitions. Simply put, it was opulent. One day I’d probably become inured to all this, but I hoped not. Taking it for granted would be terrible.
A shower would soothe me. Sitting in the giant soup bowl would have been nice. But I didn’t totally trust myself to get into it without falling on my butt and breaking something. Not in the overtired, wound-up state I was in.
No, a long, hot shower would be perfect.
I stepped out of my flats and undid the zip on my jeans, getting undressed in record time. The shower could have fit me and ten close friends. Steaming hot water poured out from overhead and I stepped into it, grateful. It pounded down in the best way possible, making my muscles more pliable in minutes, relaxing me. I loved this shower. This shower and I needed to spend quality time together, often. Apart from David, and occasionally Mal, this shower was the best damn thing in the whole house.
David’s arms slipped around me from behind, drawing me back against him. I hadn’t even heard him come in.
“Hi.” I leaned back against him, lifting my arms to thread them around his neck. “I think I’m in love with your shower.”
“You’re cheating on me with the shower? Damn, Evelyn. That’s harsh.” He picked up a bar of soap and started washing me, rubbing it over my belly, my breasts, softly between my legs. Once the soap suds had reached critical mass he helped the warm water chase the bubbles away. His big hands slid over my skin, bringing it to life and returning my hormones to me tenfold. One strong arm wrapped around my waist. The fingers of his other hand, however, lingered atop my sex, stroking lightly.
“I know you’re worried about being here. But you don’t need to be. Everything’ll be fine.” His lips brushed against my ear as the magic he was working on me grew. I could feel myself turning liquid hot like the water. My thighs trembled. I widened my stance, giving him more room.
“I—I know.”
“It’s you and me against the world.”
I couldn’t have kept the smile off my face if I tried.
“My lovely wife. Let’s go this way.” With careful steps he turned us, so that his back was to the water. I braced my hands on the glass wall. The tip of his finger teased between the lips of my sex, coaxing me open. God, he was good at this. “Your pussy is the sweetest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”
My insides fluttered with delight. “Whatever I did to deserve you, I need to do it much more often.”
He chuckled, his mouth fixing to the side of my neck and sucking, making me groan. I swear the room spun. Or that might have been my blood rushing about. For certain, my hips bucked of their own volition. But he didn’t let me go far. The hard length of him pressed against my butt and my lower back. My sex clenched unhappily, aching for more.
“David.”
“Hmm?”
I tried to turn but his splayed hand against my middle stopped me. “Let me.”
“Let you what? What do you want, baby? Tell me and it’s yours.”
“I just want you.”
“You’ve got me. I’m all over you. Feel.” He pressed himself hard against me, holding me tight.
“But—”
“Now, let’s see what happens when I strum your clit.”
Feather light strokes worked me higher and higher, all centered around that one magic spot. No great surprise he could play me to perfection. He’d already proven it several times over. And the way he rubbed himself against me drove me out of my mind. My body knew exactly what it wanted and it wasn’t his damn clever fingers. I wanted to feel that connection with him again.
“Wait,” I said, my voice high and needy.
“What, baby?”
“I want you inside of me.”
He eased a finger into me, massaging an area behind my clit that made me see stars. Still, it was wrong, wildly insufficient. Not a bit funny. It would be a tragedy to have to kill him but he was really pushing it.
“David. Please.”
“No good?”
“I want you.”
“And I want you. I’m crazy about you.”
“But—”
“How about I get you off with a shower head? Wouldn’t that be nice?”
I actually stamped my foot, despite my wobbling knees. “No.”
At which point my husband cracked up laughing and I hated him.
“I thought you were in love with the shower,” he tittered away, highly amused with himself and all but begging for death.
Tears of frustration actually welled in my eyes. “No.”
“You sure? I’m pretty certain I remember hearing you say it.”
“David, for fuck’s sake, I’m in love with you.”
He stilled completely. Even the finger embedded within me stopped moving. There was only the sound of the water falling. You’d think those words would have lost their power. Weren’t we already married? Hadn’t we decided to stay married? Invoking the L-word should have lost its mystical punch, given our crazy situation. But it hadn’t.
Everything changed.
Strong hands turned me and lifted me, leaving my feet dangling precariously in the air. It took me a second to figure out where I was and what had happened. I wrapped my legs and arms around him for safe-keeping, holding on tight. His face … I’d never seen such a fierce, determined expression. It went well beyond lust and closer toward being what I needed from him.
His hands gripped my rear, taking my weight and holding me to him. Slowly, steadily, he lowered me on to him. There was none of the pain this time to rob me of pleasure. Nothing to distract me from the feel of him filling me. It was such a strange, wonderful sensation, having him inside of me. I squirmed, trying to get more comfortable. Instantly, his fingers dug into my butt cheeks.
“Fuck,” he groaned.
“What?”
“Just, just stay still for a minute.”
I scrunched up my nose, concentrated on catching my breath. This sex stuff was tricky. Also, I wanted to memorize every moment of this perfect experience. I didn’t want to forget a thing.
He balanced my back against the shower wall and pushed more fully into me. A startled sound burst out of my mouth. Most closely it resembled “argh”.
“Easy,” he murmured. “You okay?”
I felt really full. Stretched. And it might have felt good. It was hard to tell. I needed him to do something so I could figure out where this new sensation was taking me. “Are you going to move now?”
“If you’re okay now.”
“I’m okay.”
He did move then, watching my face all the while. The slide out lit me up inside in a lovely rush, but the thrust back in got my immediate attention. Whoa. Good or bad, I still couldn’t quite tell. I needed more. He gave it to me, his pelvis shifting against me, keeping the warmth and tension building. My blood felt fever hot, surging through me, burning beneath my skin. I fit my mouth to his, wanting more. Wanting it all. The wet of his mouth and the skill of his tongue. All of him. No one kissed like David. As though kissing me beat breathing, eating, sleeping or anything else he might have otherwise planned to do with the rest of his life.
My back bumped hard against the glass wall and our teeth clinked together. He broke the kiss with a wary look, but he never stopped moving. Harder, faster, he rocked into me. It just got better and better. We needed to do this all the time. Constantly. Nothing else mattered when it was like this between us. Every worry disappeared.
It was so damn good. He was all that I needed.
Then he hit upon some spot inside of me and my whole body seized up, nerves tingling and running riot. My muscles squeezed him tight and he thrust in deep several times in rapid succession. The world blacked out or I closed my eyes. The pressure inside me shattered into a million amazing pieces. It went on and on. My mind left the stratosphere, I was sure of it. Everything sparkled. If it felt anything like that for David, I don’t know how he stayed on his feet. But he did. He stood strong and whole with me clutched tight against him like he’d never let me go.
Eventually, about a decade later, he did set me down. His hands hovered by my waist, just in case. Once my limbs proved trustworthy, he turned me to face the water. With a gentle hand, he cleaned me between my legs. I didn’t get what he was up to at first and tried to back away. Touching anything there right then didn’t seen a smart idea.
“It’s okay,” he said, drawing me back into the spray of water. “Trust me.”
I stood still, flinching out of instinct. He took nothing but care. The whole world seemed weird, everything too close and yet buffered at the same time. Weariness and the best orgasm of my life had undone me.
Next he reached over and turned off the water, stepped out and grabbed two towels. One he tied around his waist, the other he patted me dry with.
“That was good, right?” I asked as he dried off my hair, tending to me. My body still shook and quivered. It seemed like a good sign. My world had been torn apart and remade into some sparkly surreal love-fest thing. If he said it was only okay I might hit him.
“That was fucking incredible,” he corrected, pulling off his towel and throwing it onto the bathroom counter.
Even my grin quivered. I saw it in the mirror. “Yes. It was.”
“Us together, always is.”
Hand in hand we walked back into the bedroom. Being naked in front of him didn’t feel weird for once. There was no hesitation. He discarded his towel and we climbed onto his giant-sized bed, gravitating naturally toward the middle and each other. We both lay on our sides, face to face. I could slip into a coma, I was so worn out. Such a pity to have to close my eyes when he lay right there in front of me. My husband.
“You swore at me,” he said, eyes amused.
“Did I?”
His hand sat atop of my thigh, his thumb sliding back and forth over my hip bone. “Gonna pretend you don’t remember what you said? Really?”
“No. I remember.” Though I hadn’t meant to say it, neither the cuss word nor the declaration of love. But I had. Big girl panties time. “I said I was in love with you.”