The warm water threatened to relax him too much. But her hot breath on his bare chest reminded him why they were there. He carefully eased his hand down her back, untangling his fingers from her silken hair. Gently, though. Very gently. He didn’t want to spook her.
The water rippled as she responded to his touch, pushing her wriggling body firmly against him. Apparently she wasn’t the spooking kind.
In fact, she seemed downright obliging. Sure, it’d taken some time to charm her, put her at ease. But he’d worked his magic and it hadn’t taken too long to coax her into the tub. Not that there hadn’t been some false starts, but he had a feeling that was half in play. Still, what with all the splashing he’d swear there was as much soap and water on the bathhouse floor as in the tub.
He jumped as her tongue flicked his nipple. She seemed right at home now. Of course, Murdoch might not be quite so welcoming were he to walk in. Not to worry. By the time the others got back from church, he’d have her in a far more presentable state.
Her tongue flicked faster as he massaged her rump, and he could almost swear she nipped him playfully. “You like that, huh?” he asked softly, getting only a moan in reply. He figured that meant yes.
He gasped as her long nails traced lines in his chest. He’d have to keep his shirt on for a few days, either that, or answer questions.
Outside? He stopped, holding her firmly, listening.
No, just the wind. He slipped his hands along her soap-slicked belly, gradually gliding downward. Wait. Hadn’t he heard the preacher was under the weather? What if church was cut short? What if…oh no, it wasn’t like he could stop now! He stroked faster, more urgently, rushing to finish before...
Another thump, louder. No, not the wind.
The door opened, a shape filling the doorway. Shit! He turned, shoving her beneath the lip of the tub.
“What’s going on here?” Murdoch’s gaze traveled from the flooded floor to level on him.
He tried to shield her from his father’s view. Thought fast for something Sunday to say. “Well, you know what they say, cleanliness is next to godliness.” He pushed her down more, wondering how long she could hold her breath.
It would have worked. It wasn’t like he’d have let her drown. But she exploded out of the water, knocking him from the edge of the tub, racing toward Murdoch and the door.
The two men looked at the trail of suds leading out the door before Murdoch finally broke the silence: “Then I trust you’ll find cleaning every single dog hair out of my bathhouse to be a religious experience.”