I count to ten before flicking on the light and staring at myself in the mirror. What I find in my reflection has me turning the shower on as cold as I can get it.
Then, I rinse off every heated thought from my mind.
4
GRAYSON
It feelslike I’ve been in the bathroom for hours.
The reason for that is my demolished sense of time. After spending so much of it with Jill today, I’m a frazzled mess of what I’ve come to recognize as yearning and desperate, stolen glances. And if how I’m handling these few hours is any hint as to what I’m in for this weekend, I’m completely screwed.
She wasn’t in the shower for long, but after the first few minutes of standing alone in the hotel room, I ducked out and took a walk outside. There wasn’t an inch of me that wasn’t hard with tension and the undeniable desire to join her. It wasn’t until I was halfway down the street that I could finally take a breath that didn’t leave her scent clinging to my lungs.
By the time I got back to our room, she was already wrapped in one of the thick hotel robes and seated at the desk, applying cream to her cheeks. Without a word, I slipped into the bathroom and cranked the shower hot enough to scald my skin. Maybe a cold one would have been better, but the moment I had my throbbing cock in my hand, it didn’t matter.
No distance would have been able to settle me completely. Walking eased some of my tension, but not all of it. There was no way to get rid of the pain between my legs until I dealt with it the old-fashioned way. So, beneath the terrible water pressure, I stared at the bottle of complimentary body wash and stroked myself until I was shooting thick ropes of cum into the drain.
Now, I’m hesitating to leave the room.
My clothes are still in my bag, and my bag is on the bed.
I grip the doorknob and twist it sharply. “Jill?”
“Yeah?” she calls back.
“Would you mind bringing me my bag?”
A beat of silence. “Uhhh . . . right now? I’m kinda mid-curl. I know you hate being late, but I’m definitely not going to be ready in time.”
Shit.
“Oh, never mind. I’ll handle it. Just focus on finishing.”
Through the foggy mirror, I scrape my fingers through my hair and try to settle the wet strands that are sticking straight up. The tiny hotel towel I’ve tied around my waist is close to falling clean off. It’s not meant for a person my size, but since it’s the only thing I have, it’ll have to be enough. The alternative is walking out stark naked and hoping she doesn’t catch an outward glimpse of my semi-hard cock.
“I’m coming out to grab it,” I warn before giving the door a tug.
“Alright!”
Every single light is on in the room when I step out. The curtains are wide open, and I know without a doubt that if this towel slips, there won’t be any shielding myself in the shadows. She’ll get an eyeful of everything.
“The water pressure is pretty shitty, right? It took me way too long to get any sort of lather. I think that’s a generic hotelexperience, though. For the amount they charge every night, you’d think—oh!”
I stop my silent movements. The towel is holding, but I know better than to try gaslighting myself into believing it does any good to hide my body. This is . . . revealing. It doesn’t bother me to stand here nearly naked, but as I watch Jill twist in the deep chair and gulp, I worry she doesn’t feel the same.
Wincing, I say, “I should have thought to bring my bag with me. I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry . . . for wearing a towel?”
My brows knit when I catch the slight shake of her shoulders. “It’s not appropriate.”
“We’re about to go downstairs and flaunt a fake relationship in front of my closest family members, Grayson. If you think this is inappropriate, then I worry you’re going to combust in a few minutes.”
“That’s different,” I argue weakly. We both know it isn’t.
“We haven’t even spoken about the rules for when we’re actually doing this thing.”
Jill slips two hands beneath her curled hair and fans it behind her shoulders. My throat clogs as I watch her, enamoured by the fluidity in such a simple movement. The chair slips backward, and then she’s twisting fully. I drop a hand to fist the knot in my towel when she pulls a leg up, and that white robe slips open an inch, exposing the inner part of her thigh. If she moved further, it would spread apart completely, and fuck—I’d see more than I know she’d want me to.
