Somehow, for the next year, I was going to be living a life of computerized bathrooms.
I absolutely should not get used to this.
Nicolai’s lifestyle was on loanfor one year,maybeless.
Afterward, it was back to regular ol’ taps and spigots for me.
But I could enjoy the silly computerized bathroom in the meantime.
I could enjoy the frightfully gorgeous man who’d had his mouth between my legs.
A shiver ran through me that had nothing to do with the water temperature.
Yeah, I’d really,reallyenjoyed that part.
But I needed to stay grounded and focused. I was not a princess. I was a salt-of-the-earth, common-as-dirt Nebraska working-class girl,barelyworking class.
Not actually working class.
Barely-scraping-by, poverty-level, choose-between-food-and-medicine lower class.
This life was not mine.
I’d been soaping and shampooing the whole time I’d been ruminating, so now I was acleansalt-of-the-earth, common-as-dirt Nebraska not-quite-working-class girl, so I grabbed my perfectly dry towel off the dowel at the back, pushed open the glass door, and stepped out of the shower enclosure.
Nicolai had shucked his pants and was wearing a fluffy white towel that hung past his knees, and he was laying out bottles from a leather ditty bag into an open drawer.
Every time he lifted a tiny bottle out of the bag and moved it over to the edge of the counter like a loading crane, his heavy muscles flexed under the ink-scrolled skin on hisarm and pectoral.
He caught my eye through the mirror. His gaze down my shoulders and over the towel wrapped around my body was hotter than the warm shower water still clinging to my skin.
I looked behind myself at the closed shower door for a second. “What?”
Nicolai shook his head and went back to lining up the dark green bottles.
“I don’t know how to turn off the shower. Do you have to do it on the touchscreen?”
“Leave it running. I’m getting in.”
The hotel bill likely included the water, and the building probably had a huge water heater, so okay then. I’d just let the shower run if that’s what he wanted.
I went out into the bedroom to dig through my bag to find my jammie shorts. When I came back in to brush my teeth, splashes and humming told me Nicolai was in the shower.
Humming?
I sneaked closer to the glass door.
A low rumble rose and fell with the water splashing in the shower enclosure.
He washummingin there. Not singing. Just humming to himself. And it was definitely music, not muttering.
His humming was cute.
I listened, leaning my head against the marble wall outside the shower and trying to identify the song, but he wasn’t performing for me. It was just a little moment for himself.
I brushed my teeth quickly and smeared some lotion from the small hotel-brand bottle on my face and skin, where it absorbed as I was putting it on and didn’t leave a greasy residue.
Even the complimentary lotion in this hotel-club-thingee was better than anything I’d ever bought for myself.
