‘Yeah, I was, but I might have been joking.’
‘You, joke about wanting sex? I don’t believe it.’
‘OK, I wasn’t joking. Of course I want to have you right here under the waterfall. I just had a slightly different order in mind.’
‘You might have had. But I don’t think this did.’
She inserted a hand between their lower torsos and wrapped her fingers around his shaft.
‘Mind reader,’ crooned Jason, shutting his eyes in rapture.
‘To be fair, it’s not your mind I’m reading,’ she teased, stroking the droplets off him.
Before she had a chance to be shocked, he had taken hold of her round her waist and tipped her on all fours on the soft rubberised floor.
‘All right,’ he said, his face pressed next to hers while he crouched at her shoulder. ‘Let’s do it your way.’
Within seconds, her way was being done.
Jenna blessed the wet room designers for not installing a hard surfaced floor as Jason slipped inside her and began to thrust beneath the jets. How amazing it was to feel the massaging pressure of the water on her back, her scalp, her shoulder blades at the same time as Jason provided a similar but less escapable force within her. The water pooled in the small of her back and streamed down the crack of her bottom. She imagined it gushing over Jason’s cock as it sawed in and out. Not that extra lubrication was needed. This hard, hot, wet and sudden coupling had done its erotic magic the minute her knees hit the rubber.
She ignored the drips off the end of her nose and eyelashes, shutting her eyes and glorying in what was happening at her hindquarters. She felt part of the shower, of a piece with its roaring gush and spray steam. She and Jason, too, were one. They were water gods, doing what came naturally in their element.
It took longer to come than usual, perhaps because they were distracted by the extra attention needed to cope with the water, or perhaps because it was perversely anti-lubricating, and Jenna needed to rub at her clit for a long time before she began to feel the familiar stirrings. The water, maybe unsurprisingly, was actually a bit of a dampener.
But they got there in the end, and lay afterwards in luxurious relaxation, letting the water pelt their spent bodies, lathering each other in expensive gel when they were able to think straight again.
‘We should get one of these,’ said Jason, once they had crawled beyond the water’s range and enveloped themselves in thick fluffy towels. ‘There’s enough bathrooms. Turn one into a wet room, yeah?’
‘You’re a convert, then?’
‘Aren’t you?’
‘I’d like that. It’s officially on my list for the renovations.’
Jason smiled briefly, then bit his lip and turned away.
Jenna almost felt the breath of cold air from him. She wanted to ask him what was up, but she knew. Her house. Her renovations. Her list. She had graciously accepted his suggestion, and he hated that the final decision was not really his.
Jason, she was understanding on a deeper and deeper level all the time, was a proud man. For all his playing at being the council estate dropout and dosser, he was intelligent and craved independence.
He would get it, once the art career took off, of course he would.
But in the meantime, he had no alternative but to depend on her. She knew it was difficult for him.
She crept up behind him with the hotel-provided bathrobe and slung it over his shoulders, clasping her arms around his chest and burying her face in the soft fuzz.
‘The rest of the day is yours, to do with whatever you like,’ she said. ‘You lead and I’ll follow.’
‘I haven’t got the faintest idea where to go,’ he said. ‘Besides, I thought you said we were going for a walk in the park.’
‘Would you like that?’
‘I dunno. Would I?’
She tired of his prickliness and stepped away, looking for the hairdryer.
‘I don’t know. Let’s find out, shall we?’