Shine Not Burn(57)

After several minutes had passed, I looked out again. The light no longer glowed from under his door. My heavy bladder wasn’t going to let me chicken out, so I left the room and tiptoed down the hallway, trying not to make a single sound. Once in the bathroom, I shut the door and locked it.

A fluffy pink towel was under the sink as promised, and the edges of the tub had several hair and soap products that promised to rid me of the Baker City grime. I quickly stripped off my clothes and stepped into a hot shower, my eyes closing automatically as the warmth washed over me and tickled my skin. The liquid trickling through my thick hair and seeping down to my scalp gave me goosebumps.

I picked the shower gel that smelled like roses and squeezed a generous amount into my hand. I’d worked up a serious lather to scrub the dirt off my legs and feet when I heard a sound outside the curtain. It seemed to be coming from way too close to not be inside the bathroom, but I was certain I’d locked the door. I froze in place. “Who’s there?” I said softly.

The door shut. Oh my god! What happened to the damn lock!

I crossed my soapy hands over my breasts. Everything was slippery and covered in bubbles, the showerhead placed well behind me and not in a position to rinse my body off prematurely. Earlier it had been a good thing, now not so much.

“Is someone there?” I asked. I should have grabbed the curtain and checked around the edge of it, but I couldn’t move. The idea that I was standing in the shower naked while a man was on the other side of the thin curtain was both frightening and sensual at the same time. There was only one person it could be. But he wouldn’t do that … break into a locked bathroom when I was naked in it. Would he?

“You said you wanted to talk.” His voice was deep and not loud, but it wrapped itself around me like chains and held me captive. I should have run. I should have been angry and offended. But I didn’t and I wasn’t and the words wouldn’t come anyway.

“I’m … I’m in the shower.” I squeezed my eyes shut, embarrassed that this was the best I could come up with. I should have been yelling at him to get the hell out.

“I can see that. But I have to run an errand in the morning after chores, so I figured you’d want to talk now rather than wait around another day.”

I nodded rapidly, his reasoning making perfect sense … except for the fact that I was naked in the shower and it was the middle of the night. “Okay.” I hesitated, my hands still over my chest. “But no looking.”

“Fine. Even though I’ve already seen you completely naked and then some.”

I heard movement and backed into the water a little. The soap I’d put on the back of my neck was running down to travel between my butt cheeks. The slipping of the bubbles past my sensitive parts and Mack being on the other side of the curtain gave everything an erotic feel. Even my own hands on my breasts felt sexually charged.

I stepped forward and peeked out of the curtain. He was shirtless and bootless, wearing unbuttoned low-riding jeans and leaning against the counter. I swallowed hard, trying to focus on my response instead of his thick chest, six-pack abs, broad muscled shoulders, and adorable face. “What’s that supposed to mean … and then some?”

He shrugged, giving me a lazy, sexy smile. “And then some means you were naked, I was naked, and we were both doing things to each other’s naked bodies that leaves nothing more to the imagination. I know how you feel inside.” His lips curved up even more, and I swear I remembered in that moment what his tongue felt like between my legs.

I threw the curtain closed to hide my burning face, and covered my chest with my hands again. “Wow.” It was the best I could do. No other words would come to mind. My ears were ringing and my legs were feeling weak enough that I worried I might fall. I held onto the soap holder with one hand just to be sure I wouldn’t.

“I’m sorry … is that too forward for you?” he asked. He was obviously perfectly cool with everything, not showing any emotion other than slight amusement in his tone.

“Maybe,” I admitted. Definitely. Holy shit, how is he turning me into a virgin ninny-boob by just standing there in jeans and flirting a little? What is my damn problem? Is he really flirting?

“I don’t see why it should be too forward, since you claim we’re married. Married people do things like we did all the time.”

Now we were getting on more solid ground. Arguing I can do, especially when I have the evidence to back me up. “We are married, I’ll have you know, and yes, that’s true, married people do those things. But when we did those things we weren’t yet married, so technically it was never consummated. And right now, I’m engaged to be married to someone else so…” I wanted to finish that sentence with a threat, with a demand for propriety, but the words wouldn’t pass my lips. They would have been lies and I’d already told enough lies for one day.

“So … what? You’re engaged, so I should leave?”

“Yes,” I said, lifting my chin. It was easier when he said the words and I just had to agree. Chicken shit.

“And I shouldn’t get any closer to the shower, right?” His voice wasn’t coming from the sink area anymore. Without hearing his footsteps, I knew he was standing just on the other side of the curtain from me. My nipples ached with the knowledge that he was just an arm’s length away from touching me.