Page 48 of Worth the Try
“I do.”
“And what’s that?”
“A way for both of us to stretch out.”
A corner of her mouth quirks up. “How might that work?”
“I think I should get behind you, and you can lean against me.” And I’ll just pray that this semi I’m sporting underwater doesn’t get any bigger.
“That sounds perfect,” she says, scooting forward a bit.
Here goes nothing.Is it weird that it sounds like stadium cheers are going off in my head?
It’s weird.
Whatever.
I pull my legs up and shift in the tub, both of us snickering a bit as we get into position. But after a moment, we’ve got it, and I’m leaning against the back of the tub with her between my legs. The warmth of the water is finally seeping into my muscles, forcing me to relax. Time slows. I study her back, the patterns of freckles and the way the bubbles are scattered across her wet skin. I try to keep thoughts of where else I might find those freckles out of my head. I fail.
She turns to look back at me, her arms covering the tops of her breasts, then grins. “Your glasses are fogged.” She reaches to take them off, her touch soft and sure, then stretches to set them safely out of the way before settling safely back against me. “Are you sure this is okay?”
“I can confidently say that I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” I state, finally getting my shit together. Whatever existential moment I’ve been having is gone, and I pull her to me with no hesitation. She settles her back against my chest, her bottom half not quite pressed against me. Which is good. Great, even. Because I am not…soft.
“Lay your head back,” I whisper. She does, her weight dropping onto me as she relaxes.
I pull a hand up and trace her skin, moving from her neck to her shoulder, then tracing her arm down into the water. Back and forth I go, keeping my moves damn near saintly, until she sighs and raises her body a bit. It’s enough to tell me she wantsmore, so I give it to her. My fingers trace along the tops of her breasts, right at the waterline, until I move just a little below.
She inhales.
“Good?” I murmur into her ear.
“Yes,” she answers quietly.
I go farther, tracing the outside of her breasts, circling tighter and tighter. She raises an arm and wraps it around my neck, and the move lifts her even more out of the water. I keep circling her breasts, then going out, down her arm, and then back up, until her back arches, her nipples tight and hard, as my fingers finally move over them.
Her breath hitches. “So good,” she says. Then, “More.”
I’m so hard, it’s ridiculous. But she doesn’t seem to care, and in fact, I’m pretty sure she likes it. I press my palm flat against her chest, running down her generous belly until I move to the side and squeeze her leg.
She whimpers. “No, Ansel.”
I chuckle. “Tell me what you want, Elodie.”
She whines. “You know I don’t talk like that!”
I bring my hand up to her stomach, then go to the other leg and squeeze. “Say the words, gorgeous. Just say the words and I’ll give it to you.” Fuck,pleasesay the words.
She whimpers again. “Ansel…”
I trail my fingers up one thigh, then down and over her stomach to the other thigh. “Tell me, Elodie.” My voice is rough, dark.
“I want your fingers between my legs,” she says, breathless.
“Good girl. And when they get there? Then what?” I prompt.
“I—” she exhales roughly. “I want you to touch me. Make me…make mefeel.”
“That’s a good start,” I croon, and then I give her what we both want.
