“I hope you don’t feel—,” he blurts as he turns back to me. His olive-toned cheeks look as red as mine feel.
“I’d like you to feel safe here,” he says softly. “I hope I didn’t take advantage.”
My mouth drops open. “I don’t. Feel that, I mean,” I blurt.
Fuck, this is uncomfortable.
He nods. “Good. That’s good.” He lingers for a moment more, before he spins. “Okay. Going now.”
Hudson throws a final glance back at me. “Take your time, okay?”
Taking him at his word, I survey the options in front of me as the door closes. My stomach rumbles, but the urge to get clean is bigger.
Realization hits hard, and I groan as I realize I wrapped myself around Hudson like a pretzel smelling like his garbage dumpster.
Way to make an impression on my new boss.
He’s probably gone to wash the stink off. The thought is irrationally irritating as I pick out a pair of pants that look like they might fit, and a matching black shirt. A hint of Hudson’s fresh scent lingers in the air, gradually loosening the tension in my limbs as I pull out what I need from my little duffle and store it carefully in a locker.
There’s no underwear, but I can make do. Hudson mentioned laundry, so maybe he won’t mind if I quickly wash the few things I have stuffed inside my duffle bag later. My spirits lift, buoyed by the thought of clean clothes and an actual hot water flow.
I open the door a fraction, scanning up and down the corridor before I hoof it down to the door markedStaff Shower. Much to my relief, there’s a lockable cubicle. Various bottles line the metal shelf, things left by previous users. I almost whimper as I spot a shampoo and conditioner with a sizable chunk left inside. My hair is less a sleek, groomed hairstyle and more like a bush after more than a week without washing it.
I definitely whimper when the first spray of hot water hits, my clothes abandoned on top of my duffle outside. Taking my time, I carefully wash away every last trace of dirt and grime, scrubbing my hair for a second time and using some apple-scented body wash to get the smell of the dungeon and the dumpster off as I frantically scrub beneath my nails. The more I scrub, the more I want to feel clean, until my skin reddens under the heat of the water and my frenzied washing.
After tipping my face up to the stream one more time, I turn the knob to halt the water with a hint of regret, but it fades as I wrap myself in one of the big white fluffy folded towels I grab from an overflowing shelf.
Heaven.
Heaven is a hot shower and a fluffy white towel that feels like clouds on my skin.
I purse my lips as I wipe away the steam covering my reflection in the mirror. The lighting isn’t great, and I’m not much better.
But I’m clean, and right now it’s the best thing I’ve ever felt.
Biting my lip at having no underwear to put on, I slide on the new clothes, wriggling in delight at the feel. I stash my dirty clothes inside the duffle, my fingers lingering on Axel’s hoodie.
The barest hint of teakwood is still there as I take a deep inhale, but it’s mostly covered by rotting garbage. Regretfully, I push it back inside the bag, shoving down the powerful feelings erupting in my chest as the thought of losing his scent altogether. I can’t keep it like that, though. I’ll have to wash it with the rest of my clothes.
Carrying my duffle and feeling more like an actual human than the trash panda I was half an hour ago, I pad down the hallway, pausing as I come to the door of Hudson’s office. The door is wide open, and he glances up from a small desk with a smile as I knock tentatively on the open frame.
“Feeling better?”
I nod vigorously. “Much, thank you.”
“I’m glad.” He stands and stretches, a hint of muscled olive skin flashing at me from the space between his jeans and shirt. I force my eyes back to his face as he yawns.
“Early start.” He gives me a wide berth as he slides past, beckoning me to follow.
“They should be done in the kitchen for a minute. Everyone on the lunch shift starts early to prep, and then they eat and reset the restaurant before we formally open for lunch.”
My eyes round. That’s generous. I don’t think I’ve ever had free food from any of my shitty jobs. My last employer offered me a burger with all the trimmings in exchange for a blow job.
Anxiety is a lead ball in my stomach as he pushes open the kitchen door we walked through earlier.
I brace myself for an announcement, but it’s quiet, the only person in the room a formidable looking ice blonde beta, with her hair tied up in a tight ponytail. She turns to us, pale green eyes scanning me expressionlessly.
“Veronica,” Hudson greets her. “This is Gabby. Our new kitchen assistant.”
