Page 79 of How to Blow It with a Billionaire

He stared.

“How about we start with the relaxing and work up?”

“What do you propose? His tone suggested he was expecting a full market analysis and five years of projected figures.

But I guess he was just…unsettled.

I slinked toward him through the water—not quite crawling because then I would probably have gone under and that would not have been at all attractive. “How about you lie back and I go between your legs.”

“You go where?”

“I said, spread your legs, Mr. Hart.”

He made a wary noise but obliged. The bubbles shifted on the surface of the water, offering me hazy glimpses of his upper thighs. And, um, other exciting regions. I twisted round before he could catch me ogling and carefully reversed my arse into the space he’d made for me.

Um. No. Wow. Turned out, that was super uncomfortable. I jiggled left and right, then up and down, trying to make it work. Caspian’s knees bobbed around like discombobulated sharks.

“What’s next?” he asked.

“Um, can you lean against the side of the bath? Then I can lean against you?”

We flailed about, but nothing seemed to help. There was always some bit of him, or some bit of me, getting in the way. Why was it never like this in the movies?

“I think,” I panted, “if we could go a little lower…”

I pushed frustratedly against his leg. At which point my bum lost all purchase on the bottom of the bath, my legs flew over my head and, with a wild squeal, I crashed backward into the water.

Well. A bit into the water. And lot onto Caspian.

Who I’d basically just reverse dive-bombed.

Shit, I’d probably drowned him. Bellerose was going to kill me. I’d completed an urgent swivel when he surfaced. Spat out a mouthful of bubbles. Pushed the sodden hair from his eyes and opened them slowly.

“Why yes,” he murmured. “This is terribly sexy.”

“Oh my God. I’m so sorry.”

He was quiet for a long moment. And viper still. And then, with great deliberation he flicked his hand against the water…and splashed me. It surprised a giggle out of me. And then, of course, I retaliated.

And this went on until Caspian wrapped me in his arms and pulled me against his chest, and somehow that worked, and there we were, warm and entangled and floating blissfully in the water.

I made the happiest of happy noises. Even if I stretched, my toes still couldn’t touch the far side of the bath. And I could feel the steady thud of Caspian’s heart against my cheek. The strength of him under and around me. And also: his cock. Which apparently enjoyed me being all slippery when wet.

It would have taken a better man than me to resist. I reached into the water and closed my hand round him. Dragged my palm tenderly along the length of him. Which made him shudder and close his eyes.

“Arden, don’t.”

Grumble, grumble. But I let him go. And he kissed the edge of my brow, his fingers brushing a tingly path along my spine. It drew a dreamy sound out of me and I relaxed an extra half percent I didn’t even know was there: completely limp and weightless, draped over Caspian. Obviously, touching him would have been wonderful. But it belatedly occurred to me that if I had jerked him off in the bath, we would probably have wanted to get out quickly. Even if—in purely rational terms—the spoodge-to-water ratio was very small.

Eventually, the bubbles had mostly dissipated and my toes were turning wrinkly. So we de-tubbed and Caspian snuggled me up in one of One Hyde Park’s exceptionally fluffy towels. I was having a hard time not staring at him—I mean, even more than usual. Maybe it was my greedy desire for glimpses of damp, slightly disheveled post-bath Caspian. But, actually, I craved these moments with him. Moments when he wasn’t master of a world I could barely access. Moments when he was just…Caspian. A man who laughed rarely, smiled shyly, but let himself be playful with me.

A man who was mine.

“Do you need to borrow some clothes or something?” I called out, as I went in search of a non-embarrassing pair of pajama bottoms.

He laughed. “Thank you, but no. I have lived here on occasions.”

I couldn’t help wondering which of his houses was home. And if I’d ever get to see it.