I spread my legs in the tub, sitting up straighter so my breasts bob in the water.
“Oh, fuck, girl.”
“Are you coming in?” I ask, sugary-sweet. “Because I’m pretty sure my pussy needs petting.”
“Oh, I bet your dirty pussy is getting nice and clean in this bath,” he says, standing and taking off his pants. He lifts his tee shirt over his head, and his bare chests causes my core to tingle in anticipation.
His cock is full of anticipation, too, and when he climbs in the huge tub my hands immediately reach for it, anxious to feel his hardness, to have something to hold onto.
“It feels so good in here,” he groans, as he sinks into the tub. He sits across from me, and his legs rest on the outside of mine. It’s so intimate, the both of us so close to one another.
“I’ve never taken a bath with a man.”
“But you have with a girl?” He smirks. “Tell me everything.”
“Oh, shut up,” I tell him, laughing. “That’s not what I meant. I’ve never taken one with a woman either. Have you?”
“Are you asking about me being in a tub with a man or with a woman?”
“Both.”
“I think talking about previously taken baths is going to kill the mood,” he says, shaking his head.
“Touché.” I sink lower in the tub, covering my head with the water. When I emerge he is looking at me so tenderly that any fear of what might come next is far from my mind. I don’t know if he’ll ever understand how grateful I am just to be in this moment with him. “Thank you Jack, for this. I really needed it.”
“I know you did, girl,” he says.
I move toward him, resting myself on his chest. His thickness is between my legs, taunting me, and I grind myself again him, pleasuring us both.
My pussy has been tingling since he dropped his pants, and I want him in me—to fill me up, to make me whole.
I take him in me, pressing him into my entrance, lying on top of him in the steaming bath.
“Oh, God,” I moan as he fills me up. “Jack, you feel so good in me.”
He runs his hands over my ass, kissing me as he does. Our mouths collide in a rush of desire, our tongues entwined. He presses his mouth against my ear, causing a deep stirring within me.
“Girl, your pussy is so tight. Fuck, me, baby,” he says, breathing warm air in my ear.
I move up and down, and his cock presses against me, causing me to pant in release.
I run my hands over his solid chest, and his mouth finds my breasts, sucking on them, around and around, completely undoing me, until all I can do is scream out in orgasm.
“Baby,” I moan. “Don’t stop fucking me.”
“Oh, girl, I won’t. Not ever.” He thrusts in me. Water is overflowing from the tub, splashing against the floor as we grind against one another. We come, hard, and I catch my breath, already dreaming of round two.
Chapter Thirteen
JACK
The next morning, Tess and I wake around noon in a post-sex glow. We stayed up late—fucking, eating frozen pizza, watching TV, and fucking some more.
If a sex tape and leaked story result in a sex stay-cation, sign me up for more.
We roll out of bed looking for food and coffee. In the kitchen, I make coffee and Tess drops slices of bread in the toaster.
“Doesn’t this feel weird, just having zero responsibility?” she asks, getting peanut butter and honey from the pantry. “Not having anyone want us to be in a certain place, at a certain time?
“Right?” I hand her a cup of coffee, and then take a sip of mine. “I don’t have another show for a few weeks but, still, I usually end up flying somewhere between gigs to do a cameo.”
“But you don’t have to do that right now?”
“Nah,” I say. “I mean, I was going to meet up with Macklemore for a pop-up performance in Key West this weekend, but I’m gonna have Kirby cancel it. I never wanted to go anyway; Kirby set it all up.”
Tess smirks. “You’re so fancy, Jack. Did you grow up like that, knowing famous people, having connections?”
“Not at all. My parents live in the middle of nowhere, the most low-key people I’ve ever known.”
“So let me get this straight,” she says, spreading peanut butter across the whole wheat. “You grow up in the woods or whatever, and then one day just decide to be a world-class DJ?”
I sit on a barstool, enjoying the view. Tess is sexy as hell in a big white robe—especially since I know there’s nothing underneath.
“I didn’t just decide,” I say. “I always played music. Grew up on the piano. But when I moved to LA, I realized pretty quickly no one cared about classical shit. They wanted beats. So I went with it. I figured playing at clubs was better than not playing at all.”