Rose makes a soft sound and leans back a little when my fingers move over her scalp, working the shampoo down to the skin. She likes that, and I keep at it far too long.
Finally she shakes loose and sinks into the water, dipping between my legs before rising up again. She squeezes the soapy water out of her hair then does it again. I feel like I’m watching a mermaid frolic in the surf. The water turns her hair a darker red, like rose petals at midnight.
Slowly she stands up. I lie back and watch, drinking in every muscle flexing, the soft movements of her naked breasts, the way her ass clenches when she arches her back and stretches. The tub starts to drain as I stand and she turns the shower back on, ducking her head under the stream to clear the last of the soap from her hair.
As I stand up she turns around and glances down at my throbbing cock.
“Mmm. Be a shame to leave you like that, wouldn’t it, you poor man?”
She takes me in her hand and strokes. I pull her against me as she caresses my cock in her fist, rubbing the head against her stomach. She kisses me hungrily and jerks light and fast. It doesn’t take much. Her tongue, the heat of her lips, the soft weight of her breasts against my chest, the way her skin feels wet in my hands as I run them over her back and ass.
I grunt and explode all over her hand and stomach…and chest. She looks down and when she looks back up with one eyebrow raised I start laughing.
“Not going to run out easily, are you?”
After we wash up and step out of the shower, I growl at her.
“You better get some clothes on unless you want to get fucked again.”
Rose bites her lip and dresses with slowness, lifting one leg at a time and putting on quite a show as she steps into her panties.
Then she thinks better of it and steps out of them, and pulls on her sweats without them. She leaves the black silk on the bed.
“Keep ’em.” She smirks.
I’m so distracted watching her I almost put my jeans on backward. When she’s fully dressed it’s easier for me. Her hair is still damp and she looks flushed as I walk outside with her, engulfed by the heat and sounds of revelry. It’s still early afternoon and I squint until my eyes adjust.
Rose walks down my yard to the street and scans for her kids.
“Oh, fuck me,” she moans.
“I thought you said we have to get the kids?”
“I meant that, like, rhetorically,” she sighs. “My ex is here. Over there with the girls.”
I spot them, and I spot him.
Russ. He looks like a Russ. He’s got a nice piece of ass with him, but after Rose she just feels generic, part of the background. I barely give her a moment’s thought.
The man himself is tall, skinny, and I think I can see why Rose fell for him. He’s got that same look that Burt character has, just more subdued. I can tell why he pumped and dumped Rose, too. Too much fire for him. Guy like that wants to shine, so he needs a dim bulb like the bimbo on his arm to make sure he isn’t overmatched by a brighter star.
Rose heads over and I follow.
As soon as we’re close enough, this Russ looks up and practically shouts, “Why weren’t you supervising them?”
The girls shift uncomfortably on their feet. They don’t like Dad. Karen sees me standing with Rose, and her wide eyes bounce back and forth between us like pinballs as she reads the situation. Her mouth falls open for a second and quickly closes.
Rose’s wet hair and the glow on her skin are enough signal for Russ, too. He gives me The Look, the one that can only be shared between a man a woman is fucking and the man she used to be fucking, sizing each other up.
Come get some, nutty professor. I’m down.
He can’t quite manage eye contact with me.
“What are you doing here?” Rose snaps.
“I asked you a question first,” Russ says, filling his voice with professorial authority.
“Dad,” Karen sighs. “We’re fine. I’m fourteen freaking years old and there’s fifty adults and a security guard here. We don’t have to sit on Mom’s lap all day. It’s a party.”
“Be quiet,” he snaps.
“Hey,” I bark.
My voice cuts through the noise around us. Everybody goes a little quiet. I mean everybody, half the street. The clown with the balloon animals stops in the middle of folding a dachshund and looks over.
“Don’t talk to her like that. I don’t like your tone.”
Karen blinks a few times and steps back, watching me.
Russ looks a little shaken, but puffs himself up pretty well. “Excuse me?”
“No, I won’t excuse use you. Don’t bother begging my pardon either. Where do you get off snapping at Karen like that?”
“This is a conversation between adults.”
“Then what’s she doing here?” I flick my chin at his new wife. “What is she, sixteen?”
Her pretty mouth drops open, and then she scowls and starts to say something before Russ pats her arm.
“Rose, keep this Neanderthal away from—”
Oh, that is fucking it.