Page 75 of Sweet Escape

Vivian laughs and then turns, stepping into the bathroom. A second later I hear the water running. She pokes her head out. “I’ll call you in when it’s ready,” is all she says before she closes the door.

Chapter Sixteen

Vivian

When the water is nice and hot and the bubbles are bubbling and the candles are lit, I strip off the rest of my clothes and crawl into the bath. Then I call out to Memphis.

I’m a little nervous, knowing that he’s going to come in here and see how I’ve set everything up. It’s a little more romantic than thelet’s just fuckvibes we’ve had in the past. And maybe that was a mistake.

But part of me couldn’t help myself. A slow, steamy, candlelit night in this dreamy tub was too much of a magical idea to pass up. And sharing it with Memphis, a man who is somehow slowly stripping me of all my defenses, makes it all the better.

He opens the door, and when he spots me already in the water, his tongue peeks out and strokes against his top lip.

“This might be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” he tells me, slipping off his boxers and stepping into the soaking tub on the opposite end, his legs stretching out on either side of my hips.

“I’ve been here for two weeks and haven’t used this thing, can you believe it?” I shake my head. “It was the entire reason I booked this room, too.”

“Well, you’re using it now, right?” he offers.

I crawl up on my knees and inch toward him. “Barely fitting it in, though. I’ll need to use it again tomorrow before I leave to make sure I get good use out of it.”

Memphis’s body freezes. “You’re leaving tomorrow?”

I shake my head. “Sunday morning. I have to be in the studio on Monday.”

I’m not ready to go.

Not ready to leave Rosewood.

Not ready to leave this bit of fun with Memphis behind.

It feels like more than fun,a little voice whispers in the back of my mind.

But I push that thought aside.

Instead of allowing my mind to dip into the well of sadness that my time in Rosewood is ending, I wrap my arms around him. My breasts, covered in bubbles, press deliciously against his chest.

His hands grip my hips, his fingers stroking my skin under the water, his eyes never leaving mine.

When I lean down to kiss him, something begins to well up in my chest. Something I’m not expecting. Something that makes me think that last weekend in the tasting room wasn’t just a one-off night where I was too emotional.

Maybe it’s truly Memphis who makes me feel this way.

Like everything is so big and so important and so meaningful, even though I don’t know that we have the history to warrant those emotions.

I try to push those thoughts away and instead focus on what I know to be true.

What I can taste: Memphis’s tongue as it strokes against mine.

What I can hear: the sweet sound of his groans as I settle myself over him.

What I can feel: his cock as it presses inside me, one delicious inch at a time.

“Fuck, I’m not wearing a condom,” he says, once he’s fully sheathed within my walls.

I shake my head. “I’m on the pill. I’ve been tested, and everything was negative.”

His eyes lock with mine. “Me, too.”

---