He turned on the jets after he removed his clothes and motioned for me to scoot up so he could nestle in behind me.
I leaned back between his legs and relaxed on his chest. His arms cocooned me as the jets turned my bath into a bubble frenzy. With my head on his shoulder, his hands began to roam, starting at my navel, up my sides, and around my breasts. He held the weight of them as he tweaked each peak with a gentle tug. Just enough to make me tingle. I loved the way he handled my body as though he was touching it for the first and last time, memorizing every curve, enjoying the sensation of skin on skin. He never hurried. No matter how badly I wanted him to, he always took his time like I was a gourmet meal he was savoring. Part of me wondered if he would always be this tender, or if it
