Snow Place Like LA by Julie Murphy

Author:Julie Murphy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2023-07-11T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

An hour later, and we were in a bubble bath. A legit bubble bath in the giant clawfoot tub that I’d rescued from my landlord’s curb when she’d renovated her master bathroom to have a walk-in shower with LED lights and a built-in fireplace.

And despite an Ibiza-rave level of bubbles, we weren’t doing a very good job of getting clean.

It had started innocently enough, with me sitting between Angel’s legs while he stroked my arms and shoulders, and then somehow I ended up in his lap, and then somehow I was straddling him, my thumbs bracing his jaw as I kissed him as deeply as I could. Our erections grazed under the bubbles, and with a long groan, Angel grabbed my hips and yanked me closer, until we could grind together properly.

“Luca,” he said, breathless from kissing, “there’s still some other stuff we should talk about tonight.”

Ugh! We’d done so much talking already! Talking responsibly was like donating blood—yes, it was fun to feel smug about my moral fortitude . . . but I was also exhausted and wanted a cookie.

Although I wasn’t that exhausted . . .

“Later,” I said against his lips. “I need help getting clean first.”

I could feel Angel’s smirk curve against my mouth, and then I felt the resulting puff of breath when I found one of the hands he had curled around my hip and guided it down and over my ass to the tight ring of muscle waiting for him.

Getting clean was a lie, really, because I’d taken a pre-sexy-bath shower while Angel had taken a call from a panicked Sunny, who was now anxious about the cinematographic kinship between her porn masterpiece and Pretty Woman, and suddenly wanted to run the entire film through the blue Twilight filter instead. So by the time we’d clicked open the lid on Mr. Bubble, my body was ready and my nether entrance was clean enough to eat off of—or at least to eat, which was more important to me anyway.

But Angel accepted my pretext, and rubbed his fingers over my opening, pressing and testing the firm eyelet there as he caressed me. My erection jerked, and as I lifted to give him better access, it slid against the firm muscles of his stomach, the tip breaching the bubbles to the cool air of the room. I shivered.

“Yes?” he asked in a husky voice, his finger now toying with my opening.

“Yes,” I breathed. I’d die if, after everything we’d been through, we didn’t have a bubble bath bonedown.

We’d earned this bubble bath bonedown!

I reached past him to the small table next to my tub, which was mostly there for tub-wine purposes, but it was also convenient for other reasons . . . like a little drawer where I stored a bottle of silicone-based lube. I took the bottle and pressed it into his bubble-dripping hands.

“The condoms are in my bedroom,” I said. “But . . . I haven’t been with anyone since you.”

He let out a long breath, ruffling some of the curls that hung over his forehead.

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