...How did you ever end up in this scenario, you wonder? "Oh right, he offered to make that drink, the root beer float, with the Bailey's. And the stargazing. And the hot tub. That was actually really good..."
You relax lower, and his left arm crosses your shoulder. It's chilly above the water, so you're both staying as low as possible. You don't remember the stars being this bright, most times. Of course, you had to turn out all the lights, this time. You lost that bet... So you're both skinny dipping.
Your heartbeat is just a little quicker than usual, as you realize he's giving you a smirk out of the corner of your eye. He thinks you don't notice, except the moon just barely caught it, as it cracks the treeline.
"I'm going to try something" he says. He doesn't seem to be asking. The hand behind your shoulder scoops you forward, off the bench to the middle of the tub. You make a noise, but catch yourself. Under your thighs you feel his right arm, and you find yourself almost floating to the surface, in his arms. The mischief grin is still there. What is he doing? He looks down your pale length. Measuring. You're momentarily self conscious. Is he ogling you? You feel the pang of cold.
"You suck! Put me back in, it's almost freezing out here!" ...He's lifted you just enough, your nipples leave the safety of the water. Damn, he definitely noticed... They're tight and hard, it's borderline painful.
He kisses your forehead. "I know..." kisses your nose. "I'm a brat..." finally, kisses your lips, lingering. The hand under your leg gives way, and you're resting across his knee. The free hand brushes across your breasts, soothing the chilled bits. His voice softly in your ear, as much a breath as a sound: "But I'll make it up to you..." You can't see. And yet you know he's smiling, ear to ear.
"The snow is starting again, we might want to retreat inside" he suggests, eyeing the door to the bedroom. Those blankets do sound warm. You eye the robes draped over the bench, but you're reluctant to get up, the water is so much warmer than the air. He sees your hesitance, takes a breath, and heaves up and out, the dim light of one moon... upon another. Cute. Muscular. You watch as he retrieves your respective robes, shrugs his on, hands you yours. Your hands are shaking, and you notice your mistake at the last possible moment. You're left holding the belt of the robe, and the rest of it falls completely into the tub, and now soaking wet.
"Fuck!" You've underestimated how quick he is on his feet though, as he takes half of his robe off, and tells you "climb on my back, and hold tight!" You leap from the water and piggyback, your front warm, your back exposed. He reaches up and over, putting his robe OVER both of you, and bundling you in together. As a final flourish, he closes the hot tub, snatches the wet robe in one motion, and lopes for the door. You never noticed just how hot he runs, how is he not also freezing? "I sort of ALWAYS have an internal fire going on. Got a silly nickname out of it and everything" Shit, you must have said something out loud. When did that happen? You're blushing into the dark. He squeezes your thighs to hike you up, and continues the same loping pace to the bathroom, for a hot shower, and a place to hang the robes.
The bathroom is safe and warm, it takes mere seconds for him to run the hot water, although you're wondering if he's noticed you're still riding bareback. Somehow it's not slowing him down. You relent and slip off when he pulls the first arm out of the warm robe, and slide back to the ground. He offers a silent "after you" arm wave, into the shower. He follows a moment later, not a moment of doubt or hesitation. One flip of a switch later and you have to appreciate the dual showerhead, rescuing you from the age old relationship squabble of who's hogging all the hot water. He notices you noticing again. How does he keep doing that?
He draws you in, pulls you right to him. "Tonight has been perfect: I blame you entirely. What are you going to do about it?" he jokes.
"I suppose... clean up my act?" You play along. You're rewarded with a beaming grin. He gestures the "wait one" finger, and grabs the body wash. He reaches right past the loofah, ignoring it, drizzles it on his own chest, and embraces you. You notice his chest hair is lathering up the solution, causing him to be a human sized loofah. This feels... amazing. He's teasing you and for all practical intents and purposes, seems himself relatively unaffect- ...Spoke too soon. You feel a new pressure near your navel, and your eyes meet. There's no question THAT's caused by the intimacy of your touch. You decide to play this out a while longer, first. "If you're working up such a lather, could you scrub my back?" You say, turning around, making sure to slide against him, never breaking contact for a moment. He becomes an instant big-spoon, not only scrubbing your back in kind, but as his hands begin to alternate supporting and exploring your breasts, he whispers breathily in your ears, "I thought you'd never ask."
He reaches past you, and grabs the shampoo bottle, fills a palm with it, and returns with it. You feel your hair gathered, stroked, infused, and lathered in turn. His fingers run through your hair time after time, and as the repetitive strokes draw your head back, you feel him grazing on your earlobe, nibbling gently at your sensitive extremity with a soft tongue and lips. As his hands alternate strokes through your mane, one deviates, and alights beneath your chin, cradling your throat, as the other crosses your chest, supportively, and intimately all at once.
