Chapter 23
Quinn
T here’s gotta be a good reason why they don’t make bathtubs in hotel rooms to fit guys my size. I’m not saying I know what it is. But there’s got to be a fucking good reason for it.
Do builders and designers honestly think that guys my size don’t bathe?
Of course we do, quit it with your fucking vertical discrimination already.
My knees buckle, and my bare toes are bent back at a weird angle. What has my life become? One day I’m rocking it out on stage in front of thousands of screaming fans. The next I’m sitting stark naked in a cold porcelain bathtub with my balled-up clothes in my hands barely covering my junk.
My ass is numb, and while my legs lost feeling a few minutes ago, my back now understands wholeheartedly the meaning of the word pain. Stretching my arms out around the edge of the tub, I try desperately not to get the thick shower curtain that I’m currently hiding behind, caught around my elbow.
That’s all I need, for the fucking thing to come crashing down, and ruin everything.
The bathroom door opens.
I take a deep breath, sitting perfectly still.
Heavy footsteps sound on the expensive marble tiles, the toilet lid hits the wall behind it, and then the unmistakable sound of a zipper being pulled down permeates my ears.
No. Please.
God, no.
“Well, that was some day.”
I recognize Nick’s voice instantly. But who the hell is he talking to? Is he talking to me? He doesn’t know I’m in here. Does he? No, he can’t possibly be talking to me.
He must be talking to himself.
“Thank fuck it’s over. Hate these goddamn things.”
Nick is talking to himself. How weird. You think you know someone.
“Need a good wank, that’s what I need.”
Fucking. Hell.
Scrubbing my fists hard into my eyes, it doesn’t erase the horror. The horror! Christ almighty. I’m surprised my head isn’t spinning and my eyes aren’t bugging out like a cartoon character when the disturbing mental image of Nick beating one out floods my brain.
And considering the fact that he currently has his dick in his hand, and the aforementioned dick and my face are separated by nothing other than a thick layer of heavy duty polyester, I have to fight the urge not to puke.
I like the guy. Sure but, dude, boundaries.
And then he starts pissing. Yes, pissing.
Oh, help me Rhonda.
Not twenty minutes ago I was having the best damn sex of my life, and now I’m sitting in a bathtub that’s most likely covered in numerous strands of DNA, while listening to a man urinate not an inch from my head.
And it goes on and on.
And on.
And just when I think there can’t be an ounce of piss left inside his body, Nick grunts and exhales sharply, and then even more comes out.
Eventually, he zips up, flushing the toilet. I hear water running in the sink briefly before he walks back out again without closing the door behind him.
“Thanks. Needed that…” I hear him say, his voice waning as he moves farther away from the bathroom door.
And then I hear Cassie respond, but her voice is faint, as if she’s standing on the opposite side of the room, and I can’t quite make out what she just said.
Nick pauses, and then after a few seconds more of incoherent mumbling from across the room, he says, “That’s weird. Quinn’s been complaining of headaches lately, too.”
I flinch.
Kill.
Me.
Now.
Damn you, Nick, and your big mouth. The Grand Canyon has got nothing on this guy .
“You might be coming down with something,” he keeps rambling on, and on, and I really just wish he’d fuck the hell off again. “Your cheeks are flushed. And you look all sweaty. Better go to a doctor tomorrow. No excuses. You’re not that busy.”
More disjointed mumbling from across the room.
“Good, good, I’m glad. Get some rest.”
The room door opens with the heavy click of the lock disengaging, and I use the opportunity to pull my shirt over my head, careful not to let the buttons hit the side of the tub.
“If you need anything, call me, yeah?”
Faint talking follows, and then the door eventually closes.
Footsteps can be heard drawing closer, and then, after a few seconds of complete and utter silence, the shower curtain flies open.
Cassie bursts out laughing. And I’m talking bent over, clutching her stomach, tears leaking from her eyes, kind of laughing.
“Fuck off,” I grumble, trying to find my balance to stand, but my legs are sore, and I swear I just felt something crack.
Might have been my hip, who knows?
Cassie tries to talk, but she can’t form words because she’s laughing so hard. Howling. Snorting. Her laughter bounces off the shower tiles. It’s in no way feminine.
“It’s not that fucking funny.”
This makes her laugh even harder. “Yes…yes, it is…” She hiccups, doubling over. There are honest-to-god tears in her eyes. “Have you seen yourself?”
I’m wearing a shirt that barely covers my dick, and I’ve got two rosy-red ass cheeks from sitting so long on the cold porcelain.
Okay, so it is kind of funny.
A tiny smile lifts my lips. “Want to take a bath with me?”
Ha. That wipes the grin off her face, doesn’t it?
“Really?”
“Yes, really. I’ll run the water. Get in, but make sure you leave some room for me. I honestly don’t know why they make these things so fucking small.”
Cassie steps forward sheepishly, and then slowly slips the fluffy white robe off her shoulders, letting it drop onto the bathroom floor.
My body responds instantly to all that smooth, bare skin.
Stripping my shirt back off over my head, I help Cassie climb into the tub, reaching around her to turn on the faucet. As the water level rises, I grab a bottle of something off the shelf, could be bubble bath, could be shampoo—it’s pink, so whatever it is, it will do.
I dump a shitload of it into the bath, and the steam rising up around us instantly smells like strawberries.
Capturing Cassie’s tiny waist, I jerk her into my chest and kiss her until she’s breathless, soft and supple in my arms, and begging for more. I’m so turned on right now. Everything about this woman turns me on. Her creamy skin. The slight jut of her hip bones. The sweet curve of her breasts. And the rounded cheeks of her glorious ass.
Funnily enough, I’ve always thought of myself more as a tits man, and Cassie’s tits are incredible, don’t get me wrong, but her ass. Oh, man. Her ass is something else .
“Sit, at one end, with your back to me,” I tell her. “I want to wash you.”
A quick breath pulls through her lips. “So I take it you’re staying the night?”
“Is that alright with you?”
Her surprise and pleasure at my words are obvious, but she plays it off with a casual shrug. “Not like I had any other plans.”
When the bath is almost full, I climb in behind her, but as we’ve already established, my legs are too long for this damn tub, so I have to bend my knees, letting my legs fall to the sides while I place my feet over her ankles. But what the fuck do I care because Cassie just scooted all the way back, and now her round ass cheeks are pressed up against my cock.
My hands roam up and down the smooth, wet flesh of her back. “We’ll work out the details later. I know this is new for both of us. But tonight I just want to sleep in your bed and wake up next to you in the morning.”
She sighs and sags into my touch. “That sounds nice.”
I press a soft kiss to her shoulder. I like the way it feels to have her in my arms. My hands move lower, down over her hips, my fingers digging into the soft flesh where the top of her thighs meet her belly. She moves her hips and then settles back against me as I grab a washcloth from the shelf beside us. Squeezing some of the same pink soap onto the washcloth, I work the soap into a lather, and then start massaging her neck and shoulders.
She moans softly.
“You like that, huh?”
“Hmm,” she hums in contentment .
I wash the length of her throat, down her arms, her fingers, taking my time to pay each one of them the attention they deserve. Then my hands skim over her torso and her stomach, before I slide my hands down under the water to wash between her legs.
A soft noise escapes her throat. “You’re very good at this.”
With a wicked grin I know she can’t see, I whisper, “Is that right?”
“Oh, yes. I don’t want to know how you got so good at it, I’m sure you’ve done this hundreds of times before, but just know all the hard work and all the training has definitely paid off.”
I run my teeth along her earlobe. “Get that thought out of your head, Alabama. I’m no virgin, but that number ain’t even close.”
She relaxes back against me, dropping her head onto my shoulder. “Good to know.”
Nice save, Tanner.
I’ve been with a lot of women, sure I have. In different ways, in different places. I know women. Or at least I thought I did because now I’ve got Cassie constructing an intricate web of scenes where I’m fucking half the Radio City Rockettes , and that’s the last thing I need.
“Turn around,” I say softly.
She does, her legs entwined with mine. Her face is rosy from the warmth of the water, or maybe it’s something else. She studies my face as if she’s looking for hidden meaning in the lines and creases around my eyes.
“Actually, it doesn’t matter how many people you’ve slept with,” she says. She runs her hand over the tiny bubbles clinging to my chest. “I don’t want to know. We both have pasts, Quinn. And I’ve been living in the past for far too long. It’s time for new beginnings, and…” She hesitates.
“And what?”
“It’s time to start focusing on the things we haven’t done yet and not so much on the things we’ve already done.”
I reach across to tuck a strand of wet hair behind her ear. “Oh yeah, what did you have in mind?”
She considers this for a few seconds, her gaze clouding over with obvious lust. She bites her bottom lip, then her lips part, and she runs her tongue across the small hollows left by her teeth. “I want you inside me again.”
She’s looking at me with that sleepy stare that makes my thighs tingle. It’s the look that means something marvellous is about to happen.
I lean in, barely touching my lips to hers, letting the full softness of them graze my mouth. “I want that too.”