Page 106 of Geordie

I cradle the cell, and with my index finger swipe quickly through houses from having fifteen bedrooms to one bedroom. Geordie watches me as I grow more confused with the volume and variety available. “How do you choose?”

He scoots closer to me. “I liked this five-bedroom house.” He taps the phone to reveal a stunning home in a gated community. As he continues to swipe, I view a dream kitchen, pool, tons of light, and a primary bedroom with a view of a small, private garden.

“This is too much,” as I fall in love with the first house I might live in and own.

“No, it's perfect, close to everything, yet it's landscaped as if we're out in the country. When I saw the home, I thought of you. I'd like to tour it today. The realtor is a friend. He's allowing us to tour it alone, unless you want a guide.”

The house is more beautiful than the photos. The staging company did a wonderful job. It already looks lived in with family photos, the dining room table set for a dinner party, and a cookbook opened on the kitchen counter as if someone just left the room. Its design is an open concept of kitchen, dining room, and living room.

Geordie follows me as I dart from room to room, imagining our lives unfolding in the space. We poke our heads into bedrooms that are decorated with neutral colors for anyone to occupy. I stop short, entering the last bedroom next to the primary suite. This space, with a bassinet, changing table, a large white rocking chair in the corner, hits me hard. I take a step back, but Geordie slips an arm around my shoulder, keeping me close to him as we take in the room. “They must have done this after the photos were taken; I didn't know.”

I draw in a breath and lean my head on his shoulder. “It's okay. Unexpected, but okay. They've done a beautiful job.” I've got to move on, not forget the child I lost, but to the next part of my life.

“Come on,” Geordie says, steering me into the hall. “Let's go to the primary suite.” There’s a king-size bed and a reading area, with a soft, cream-colored throw over a lounge chair that sits in front of a sunny window and TV mounted over a fireplace. I can see us ending our days here. I wander into the adjoining bathroom with a tiled shower that could hold five people at a time, a his and her sink at both ends, but the most impressive part of the suite is the small private courtyard with a stone bathtub. It's like bathing in a garden.

Another room attached to the bathroom is the biggest walk-in closet with vanity I've ever seen. Geordie stands at the entry to the walk-in, watching me as I look, awestruck, at all the room for clothing. “Do you like the house?”

I look over at him after shutting a drawer. “I love it.”

“Then I'll tell the realtor we'll take it? Do you want any of the furniture? If not, we can meet with a designer.”

“Everything is perfect.”

“I'll tell him to include the furniture.”

Geordie pulls out his phone, wandering back into the bedroom, while I push the glass door open to step outside into the courtyard. It's warm today, the kind of weather when Mother Nature wants to remind us how warm spring will be. The staging company left natural high-end bath products, oils, shampoo, conditioner, towels, even scented candles. I try the tap and find water gushing out. I put the stopper in place to trap the water. I dump in lavender bath salts, which turn the water a pale purple, then a bottle of liquid to add bubbles. I discard my coat, shirt, skirt, and underwear. Sitting on the side of the tub, I test the water, catching a mount of bubbles with my toes.

“What's this? Have I caught a Ceasg? Then I'm ready for my three wishes,” Geordie says from the door, a grin spreading across his face, probably at the sight of me naked about to enter an enormous bathtub that could accommodate six adults. I forgot the tub was filling; it's nearly at the rim. I stretch out a hand to close the faucet.

It's weird that everything in this suite is super-sized, like two sets of throuples could live here with no problem. “I read that Katharine Hepburn was touring a house she was thinking of buying. She took a shower during the tour. When she was asked why, she said that you couldn't really get a feel for a house until you took a shower in it.” I shrug. “I thought it would be fun if we took a bath outdoors.”

Geordie pulls off his jacket. “It looks like one of my wishes is coming true now.”

I can't keep my gaze from his body. The compact sleekness of a big man, the tattooed shoulder of a Celtic design, his short auburn hair with a neatly trimmed beard, but with his stride and confidence, he still looks like a Highland warrior. He slips into the tub as the water rises nearly to the edge. He sits with his back to the corner, spreading his arms over the rim of the tub, staring up at me. “Are you joining me? Although, I don't mind looking at you naked while I bathe.”

I giggle at the absurdity, then slip into the hot water as some of it splashes over and onto the floor. Steam rises as I scoot through the froth of bubbles until I touch his slick chest. His lips find mine and we kiss in a watery embrace, his hand already under the water, cupping my breast, his thumb sliding over my nipple, and I want him again. “Play with me,” I moan.

“I intend to, lass,” he rumbles low. “Open your legs.” His hand sweeps down over my belly, the trailing of his hand so sensual I shiver even with the warmth of the water. I hold my thighs open, my knee resting at his stomach as he parts me to insert a finger. I move back to rest my back against the tub, my arms at the tub’s edge, my tits bobbing at the surface, then disappearing as I meet the thrust of his finger. “More,” I whisper.

He grins. “Two fingers are a poor substitute for the real thing,” sliding a second finger into my pussy. I moan as he stretches me, and I want more.

“Then give me all of them or use your cock.”

“You're a demanding water temptress,” he whispers, moving his face closer, my knee brushing his erect cock. He steels a sweet kiss as another finger is inside me. The water rolls as I thrust to meet his fingers, his other hand pinches my nipple, and I'm ready. “Fuck me now; use your cock.”

The wisp of his beard tickles my chin as he sweeps his lips across mine. He pulls his fingers out, playing with my clit. I close my eyes, feeling the distant whisper of my orgasm coming. That feeling is interrupted when Geordie twists away from me. He grabs a hand towel and pulls it into the water. “On your knees, lass. Use this to protect them.”

His hands guide me to the end of the tub, my tits floating, my ass just breaking the water. He pulls another towel from the pile and submerges that. He adjusts his knees on the towel. “Geordie, we have no lube, unless you've packed some in your pocket.”

“I don't need it,” he says, chucking his chin toward the bench with bath products. “They've staged this bathroom like a fuck palace. You could have a party in the bathroom.” He takes a bottle of a natural oil from the wooden bench. “Pull your bum up.”

With my ass up, the water stops just below my eyes as he massages the oil into my hole. I turn slightly to see him applying it to his cock and balls. “Look straight ahead.” He punctuates his demand with a slap to my ass. I giggle and turn.

“Hold on to the edge of the tub,” he demands as he places the oil bottle down. “It's going to be a rough ride. You'll need all your strength when I'm in the heat of it.”

My fingers curl over the rim, arms straight, bracing. His chest slides over my back, kissing my neck as he reaches around for my tits, me whimpering at his touch.

“I could play with these all day,” he says, his palming a little rough, but shit, I love his hands on me.

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