Chapter 13
Simon
For the record, I wasn’t lying about winning the Ponderosa Resort gift basket. Everything I told Cassie is included—the limo ride, the mud bath, the two nights of deluxe lodging.
And I was lucky enough to be the winning bidder on the whole package.
Okay, luck may not be the right word. The auction was for charity, and I may have placed a bid high enough to not only ensure I’d get the package, but that the charity will be comfortably funded for the next five or six years.
What? It was for a good cause, and Cassie gets to cross item number ten off her list. It’s a win-win for everyone.
So why do I feel guilty?
“This feels amazing,” Cassie says, and I push my guilt aside to focus on feeling amazing right along with her.
It’s not hard to do.
I’m sitting in a massive brown tub filled with a thick, warm soup of muddy water.
Cassie’s on the opposite end with her arms resting on the edges and a blissed-out look on her face.
Her hair is piled on top of her head, and those perfect breasts bob on the surface like rosy apples.
Her face is covered with a special volcanic mud mask, and I swear to God I’ve never seen anyone this beautiful in all my life.
I take a deep breath and order myself to stop ogling her.
“I was reading up on some of the different types of mud they use here,” Cassie says with her eyes still closed. “There’s a black mud they use for treating arthritis and rheumatism, and a white mud that’s shown to have healing properties for burns.”
“So, what about this stuff?” I scoop a gooey handful off the bottom of the tub and let it trickle through my fingers. It really does feel awesome. Silky would never be an adjective I’d use to describe mud, but that’s kind of what this is like.
“Exfoliation,” she says. “And relaxation. That’s the main thing. God, this feels wonderful.”
“It really does.” I’m not just talking about the mud. I’m talking about being here with Cassie in a double mud bath at a luxury spa, which ranks up there with the top experiences of my life.
“I love that you’re so passionate about mud,” I tell her.
“And I love that you won this package. Seriously, thank you for inviting me.”
“My pleasure. I’m glad you could come.”
Her eyes are still closed, and she gives a blissed-out sigh while swishing her fingers through the warm, earthy liquid. “A girl could get used to this kind of luxury.”
Something cold pools in the middle of my chest as those words ping around inside my eardrums.
A girl could get used to this kind of luxury.
Those are the same words Kaitlyn uttered when I took her to Paris to celebrate six months of dating. This was after I treated her to a shopping spree along la rue de Rennes, but before the ten-course dinner with wine pairings.
It was my own damn fault, I told myself later. I’m the one who set the expectation that I’d shower her with money. That life with me would be filled with that kind of extravagance.
Could I really blame her for not wanting to take on the other parts of my life?
The less-glamorous ones that revolve around family and work and constant advocacy for my sister.
It was hardly Kaitlyn’s fault for making assumptions.
And she was far from the only girlfriend who decided to cut and run when she saw the big picture.
I take a deep breath and will myself back to the present. I’m here with Cassie, savoring this once-in-a-lifetime experience. I know it can’t be more than this, but I can enjoy it while it lasts.
“You sure you don’t want to have sex in here?”
She opens her eyes and grins. “Not unless you want dirt clods in some uncomfortable places.”
“I’ll pass.”
“Besides, I was pretty specific in the story I told my sisters,” she says. “I jotted some notes about the details I remember.”
“Care to fill me in?”
“Well, I remember telling them about the double mud bath with a hot guy.”
“Check,” I announce, waiting to see if she’ll give me shit about the “hot guy” part. Cassie’s ability to flip me crap is one of the things I adore about her.
But she’s focused on her story. “After the mud bath, we shower off together.”
“I think that can be arranged.” I glance over my shoulder at the large, double-headed tile shower the attendant pointed out to us when we arrived. “We could definitely have sex in there.”
“We could, but that’s not the story I told my sisters last year.”
“Right.” I try to recall the way she worded it on The List. “Something about the ladies’ dressing room?”
“It’s actually called the Ladies’ Relaxation Suite here, which is perfect. Is that the snootiest thing you’ve ever heard?”
“Pretty snooty,” I agree, trying to decide if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.
“Anyway, I think the Ladies’ Relaxation Suite will fit the bill. I looked up pictures on the website, and it’s exactly what I was imagining.”
Cassie’s commitment to the plan makes me smile. Her attention to detail, the way she’s devoted to making her own fibs a reality. I love that I get to be part of that.
“Okay, so no sex yet,” I say. “I should at least get to touch you.”
She laughs and pushes away from the edge of the tub, turning like an otter to slide into the space between my legs. She leans back against my chest, and my hands find her breasts in the silky liquid.
“Oooh,” she says as I stroke my palms over her nipples. “That’s nice.”
“Very exfoliating.” I scoop a handful of soft silt off the bottom of the tub and massage it into her breasts, cupping those perfect, slippery orbs in my hands. I’ve never thought of mud being a turn-on, but it feels fucking incredible when I’m stroking it over her skin.
I grab another handful of silt, reveling in the smoothness of it. Of her. Running my palms over her belly, I massage it into her flesh and feel her squirm against me.
“That tickles,” she murmurs.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No!”
Well okay, then.
I keep touching her, gathering handful after handful of mud.
I glide it over her thighs, her calves, the delicate curves of her upper arms. By the time I’ve rubbed mud into nearly every part of her body, she’s practically purring in my lap.
I’m guessing she’s aware that I’m sporting some major wood, and I hope it makes her want me as much as I want her right now.
“We should get out and shower,” she says.
“I’ve never heard a woman so eager to shower.”
“It’s not the shower I’m eager for.”
I know the feeling.
We scramble over the edge of the tub, leaving muddy footprints across the tile.
There’s a reason everything in this room is the color of chocolate syrup.
She makes it to the shower first and turns on both sets of taps.
I stand back for a second and watch the water sluice over her body, showing beautiful pink trails of skin through the mud.
She rinses her face and turns to grin at me.
“You coming?”
“I’m hoping to in about five minutes.”
She laughs and pulls me into the hot spray with her.
I get mud all over her freshly washed body, which gives us the excuse to scrub each other all over.
Hands are everywhere— arms, legs, breasts, bellies.
We can’t stop touching each other, and I’m not sure if we’re trying to get clean or dirty or if there’s something else at play here.
It’s the ‘something else’ that gives me pause. What are we doing here? Are we still sleeping together for the sport of it, or is this starting to feel like more?
I think I know the answer to that, and it scares me witless.
But I can’t think of that right now with her hand gripping my cock in the soapy water and her body pressed wet and lush against mine.
“Come on,” she says. “I can’t wait any longer.”
She lets go of my cock and grabs my hand, which isn’t nearly as satisfying. But it’s a means to an end I’m anticipating very much, so we twist off the taps and towel ourselves off fast enough to set a world record.
Once we’re both wrapped in thick white robes with the Ponderosa Resort logo on the front, Cassie grabs my hand again. “This way.”
Her voice is urgent as she pulls me toward a door marked Ladies’ Relaxation Suite. She presses a palm against it, then turns to face me. “Maybe you should wait here a second. I can make sure the coast is clear.”
“Good idea.”
She pushes through the door, damp hair trailing down her back, bare legs making me wish they were wrapped around me. I watch her disappear through the door, hating that I miss her even now.
Get it together, I will myself. It’s just sex. You’ve had plenty of sex before.
But not like this. Never like this.
Cassie pushes back through the door again, a big smile on her face. “Come on,” she says. “We’ve got the place to ourselves. Ready to cross off number ten?”
I nod and let Cassie pull me through the door. My whole body is ready, with every nerve snapped to attention.
But my brain. My brain can’t stop running the numbers. No matter how you add it up, we’re almost to the end of the list.
Which means my time with Cassie is almost up.
That bothers me a lot more than it should.