Page 47 of Some Sort of Crazy (Happy Crazy Love 2)
He set the plastic container I keep under the sink to water my plants on the sill too and unzipped his jeans. “Definitely.”
“What’s the container for?”
“To wash your hair, like I promised.”
I smiled. “You don’t really have to do that.”
“Well, I want to. So shut your face.”
Laughing, I watched him get undressed and noticed he wasn’t fully hard for once, although the size was still impressive. It felt oddly intimate, seeing him like that, somehow more intimate than seeing his giant erection in front of my face. Why was that? I looked away as he stepped into the tub behind me.
“Scoot up a little bit.” He stretched his legs on either side of me, and I leaned back against him as he gathered me in close. “There. Isn’t this nice?”
“Yes.” It was nice. I was more of a shower person since I got up so early and was always in a rush, but it felt good to slow down and relax a little. “I don’t think I’ve used this tub more than once since I’ve lived here.”
“How long is that?”
“Three months. And I’ve definitely never been in it with another person.”
“Can’t say I’m sorry about that.” We were silent a minute, the only noise the crackle of the bubbles and sizzle of candle wicks. “So was Dan boring in bed or what?”
I sighed. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
I tried to think of a way to explain it. “Well, you know how you have a favorite pair of sweat pants or something, and they’re really comfortable and feel good every time you put them on?”
“Uh, I guess so.”
“Well, sex with Dan was sort of like that.”
“Like sweat pants?”
“Yeah, you know—something comfortable and familiar that feels good. Does that make sense?”
“I guess so, but if any woman ever said sex with me was like sweat pants, I’d fucking shoot myself.”
“Well, I didn’t know any better, OK? We both had orgasms, so I figured we were doing fine, but clearly we weren’t, because he went elsewhere to get what he really wanted, and I…” I stopped, unsure of how to finish the sentence.
“You what?” In front of my chest, Miles linked his fingers with mine.
I’m having way more fun—and way better orgasms—with you than I ever had with him. But I couldn’t say that. Miles would probably freak out and think I wanted him to be my next boyfriend or something. And I didn’t want that. I knew we were just friends doing this for the hell of it, enjoying the kick. For all I knew, sex with Miles would become routine after a while too.
Although that didn’t seem possible.
“You what?” he prompted again.
“I’m learning things about myself.” I grinned at him over my shoulder. “You’re a good teacher.”
“And what have you learned so far?”
“Hmmmm.” I settled back against his chest. “I like it when you say dirty things to me.”
“Good.”
“I like when you get bossy with me.”
“Even better.”
