Three Little Words

“Dear, will you bring the bottle and glasses in here?” she called when I returned. “I want to soak until I’m one big wrinkle.” She appeared in the bathroom doorway. She was wearing my button-down shirt from the night before and had her hair pinned up. She blushed when she saw my expression.

“Wow,” I said softly. “Just… wow.”

“Thank you.” She smiled and tucked a tendril of blonde hair behind her ear. “Join me in about five minutes?”

“Sure. I’ll get the fire going and then bring the drinks.”

“Perfect. Thanks.”

I gave her fifteen minutes and still knocked before she was ready. I grinned at the muffled bumps and managed to survive until she invited me in, although I was a little surprised by the sight that greeted me.

The bathroom was dark, lit only by a half-dozen candles—and not the thin taper kind, but stout pillar candles.

I chuckled. “So that’s why your overnight bag weighed a ton.”

“Sorry. I wanted to tell you, but…”

I also smelled lavender and noticed the small bottle on the counter.

Christy smiled at me from the tub. “I know you’re a romantic, so I thought I’d do something special.”

“It’s perfect,” I said. “You’re perfect. Thank you.”

“You always do so much for me. Besides… I have to keep you interested.”

“Oh, no chance of me losing interest. I’m hooked.”

“Good. Now I just need to reel you in.”

“Hold on,” I teased, “aren’t you supposed to haul the fish out of the water?”

“Oh, shut up. Just get in here.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She slid forward, and I sank into the hot, scented water behind her.

“God, that feels good,” I said. “You feel good,” I added as I wrapped an arm around her and cupped her small, firm breast. I took a sip of my drink and then set it next to the bottle and ice bucket on the small table.

We relaxed and soaked up the heat until the water cooled. Then Christy unplugged the drain while she ran more hot. She replaced the plug and filled the tub almost to the top before she turned off the tap.

“So, Miss Scheherazade,” I said at last, “are you ready to hear the story of my group secret?”

“I think so. I’m pretty sure I know what it is, but knowing you, it’s probably a lot wilder than even my imagination.”

“What do you think it is?”

“You’re into orgies and group sex.” She must have felt my surprise.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” she laughed. Then she turned to look at me and sloshed water out of the tub in the process. “And lemme guess, you want me to try it too. With Wren and Trip for sure,” she added, “but probably Leah and Mark as well.”

“And… how do you feel about that?” I asked slowly.

“I haven’t even had sex with you,” she bleated, “and now you want me to do it with not one but two other guys? What kind of boyfriend are you?”

“The kind who likes orgies and group sex. Duh.”

She rolled her eyes.

“You aren’t really upset, though, are you?”

“No,” she admitted. “Not really. A little scared— No, a lot scared. But not upset. Still, you owe me a story. You can’t just say, ‘Yep, you’re right,’

and expect to get away with it.”

“Fair enough. But you’d better settle in and buckle up, ’cause it’s gonna be a wild ride.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Am I going to need more alcohol for this?”

“Probably a lot more. That’s why I brought the bottle.”

“Oh, boy, here we go.” She raised her glass for a refill.

I added ice to both glasses and then filled hers with amber liquid.

“So it’s going to be one of those stories,” she said as she watched me pour.

“’Fraid so. This is the Big Secret, the thing I’ve been hiding since we first talked.”

“All right. Hold on.” She took a healthy swig of whiskey and closed her eyes to savor before she swallowed. She looked so much like her father that I had to suppress a chuckle. “What?” she demanded with a suspicious look.

“Nothing. Just thinking how much I love you. And how much I hope you still love me once you know all my secrets.”

“I told you,” she said evenly, “nothing you say will ever scare me.”

“Okay, here goes. My parents are swingers.”

She waited. And when she realized I wasn’t going to say anything else, she gave me a searching look. Eventually she said, “Is that it?”

“What do you mean, ‘is that it?’ That’s a big it!”

“Ha ha,” she said without a touch of amusement, “throw my own words back at me. Very funny. But I’m serious. Is that it? Your parents are swingers? You waited, like, five months to tell me that?”

“More like three, but yeah.”

“Who cares? You know I stink at telling time. But still… that’s what you were hiding? I figured that out before Christmas!”

“Well, being a swinger isn’t quite the same as liking orgies and group sex.”

She rolled her eyes. “Just how innocent do you think I am? Never mind, don’t answer. I’ve known all along and dropped hints the whole time! Who cares if I didn’t use the right word?”

“So… you don’t think it’s weird?”

“Of course it’s weird, but I’m weird!” She shook her head in frustration.

“I can’t believe you thought I wouldn’t understand.”

“Sorry. I underestimated you. Again.”

“You keep doing that,” she accused.

“Note to self…,” I said to lighten the mood.