This one does, though. The bathroom fills with sweetly scented steam as I lean back against his chest, suds floating up to my chin.
“Put that thing away, Mister,” I warn him when I feel his p***s poke me in the lower back. “This bath is for rest and relaxation only.”
“That’s what you said about the kitchen counter,” he drawls, “and yet I didn’t hear you complaining when the dessert course was served…”
“Oh, shut up, you.” I splash water at him over my shoulder. “The kitchen counter was your idea, in case you forgot. You literally picked me up and deposited me there like a casserole.”
“So was I,” he replies.
My cheeks flush despite the heat of the bath. I pull his arm around me and snuggle up under it. Even with the aroma of the bath bomb I scrounged out of a closet, I can still smell h
