draped his big hand down his back, she lathered up his armpit and marveled at the man’s musculature. All that hard body goodness wasn’t just for show. He was hard and lean with an enticing physical symmetry that got her juices flowing.
She slid behind him out of self-preservation so she could catch her breath. Since every part of him was so beautiful, staring at the broad expanse of his back seemed like the way to go if she needed a visual time-out. The minute she swiped the sponge from muscled shoulder to muscled shoulder, she knew she was wrong to assume a different view would be less arousing.
Summer sighed with longing. His perfectly tapered torso and magnificent butt gave her the swoons. She drew soapy circles on each butt cheek and wished there were a way to capture the visual of suds dripping down his legs. It’d make a great screen saver.
She was on one knee washing his calves when he turned, and his manhood wagged in her face.
“Finish up,” he drawled with way too much amusement.
Oh, yeah? She thought with equal amusement. Well, buckle up, Adonis, ’cause two can play.
Calling on the skills she picked up as a junior volunteer assisting the nursing staff at her local hospital, she went about washing his private parts like an old-school candy striper.
Having more fun than was probably decent, she enthusiastically applied the sudsy sponge to every inch and hidden fold. Her up close and personal vantage point showed her more than how big he was. For the first time, she really noticed the latticework of surgical stitching from the horrible accident he’d survived.
Aghast at how close he came to losing his junk, Summer trembled as she imagined the horror he went through.
Her touch gentled, and she dropped the sponge in favor of her hands. It wasn’t a surprise that he noticed her reaction—he was intuitive. With a finger beneath her chin, he lifted until she met his eyes. Her expression must have shown the anguish she was feeling.
It said something about the man he was when he didn’t avoid, deny, or make light of what she knew had been an awful experience.
“Yes, it was hell. Hearing terms like ‘scrotal trauma’ scare the shit out of a guy. My recovery wasn’t pretty, and before you ask, yes, there’s a whole story to that too. But as you know firsthand, all the necessary parts are fully functional, thank god.” He caressed her cheek and smirked. With a shrug, he said, “These days, it seems like fertility is a crapshoot no matter how you look at it, so at the end of the day, it’s no harm, no foul. Operating at fifty percent is what it is.”
She hated how casual he sounded but managed a nod. Could she have stopped fondling him with her sudsy hands? Sure, but she didn’t.
Since he’d brought the subject up—more or less—she felt compelled to comment. “We’ve been careless,” she murmured. “Some would say stupid.”
“Playing with fire has a way of making one do dumb things.”
“I like the fire,” she admitted in a half-whisper.
There wasn’t a lot to say after that. She made a production out of rinsing them both off and led the way from the stall.
“Fluffy white towels are the epitome of decadence,” she informed him with a giggle as they dried off. “I don’t know why, but it’s true.”
Arnie balled up a towel and dried her back. “None of my bathroom towels match, and for some reason, all the washcloths disappear. They’re like socks. I don’t get it.”
The sound of bachelor honesty made her secretly smile.
“Are we getting dressed for dinner or what?” Summer considered the hazard of trying to wear a towel. Her boobs rarely cooperated.
He took her hand and dragged her to the bathroom nook where two white robes embroidered with the Four Seasons logo hung. Helping her slide into the smaller robe, he tugged on the tie belt as she laughed.
“This is my first time in a hotel robe!” She twirled around and laughed. “It feels naughty.”
“It’s a good look for you.”
“Hotel vixen? Ah ha ha!”
In the dining room, they explored the covered buffet like excited kids. Arnie dug with gusto into a platter of cutlets and a pan of beef braciola. A kitschy metal cauldron of wedding soup and red, cheesy pasta called to her taste buds. Italian cuisine was her all-time favorite. How did he know?
It was fun and relaxing to pig out, drink yummerific red wine, and share life stories.