Andrew
Lanie laughed. “You like it?”
I swallowed hard. “Forget the hot tub. Lay down on this bed and let me lick whipped cream off you.”
Smirking, she walked right past me. “I want to test out the hot tub. Just for a while. Wait.” She stopped, and I nearly bumped into her. “Is there whipped cream?”
I ran my knuckles over her shoulders. “I can order some. Go get in the hot tub.”
She kept walking and, once again, my eyes fell on her butt. My gaze seemed to be permanently glued there.
After ordering champagne and whipped cream—just in case—I grabbed two towels and joined Lanie on the porch. The soft lights made her face glow, the steam creating a hazy screen between the two of us.
“It’s hot,” she warned, “but amazing.”
I ceremoniously popped the bottle of champagne, the cork flying ov
