Ani gulped. He would be holding her sopping-wet, dirty underwear and bra in his bare hands.
She watched his chest rise and fall, and he seemed nervous about it, too, not titillated. She realized she trusted him.
Ani crept into the bathroom—spotless, with a smattering of dark manly face and bath products.
“I have some scented bath salts in the bottom right drawer,” he called.
So thoughtful.
Ani had wanted a bath at home, but now she didn’t think she could possibly relax,naked,in a bathtub while she knew Raffi was out there, handling her dirty clothes, then puttering around the house. Andnotbeing in that bath with her.
There it was. She could admit it to herself. She wanted Raffi to join her. To continue his nakedness, strip off his pants and boxer briefs, and climb into the bath with her. She wanted to kiss him, to feel his bare skin against hers. Everywhere.
Shit.
She had a feeling that if she invited him in, he wouldn’t say no.
But, but. Protecting herself was paramount, far more important than some fleeting lust. Which might not just be lust, but at the moment, lust was dominating her thoughts.
“I might just…shower, if that’s okay,” she called out.
“Doesn’t matter to me. You do you.”
Ani faced herself in Raffi’s bathroom mirror. Her hair was pasted down, mostly wet, although some of her flyaways had dried. Lovely. She wasn’t exactly a sight to see.
She shrugged off the blanket, revealing her previously shapeless bag dress tight and clinging to her body. She peeled it off. She saw herself in the mirror in her bra and panties and couldn’t help but think that she was inches away from Raffi. In his home. Soon to be naked. And the thought sent a zing of pleasure right between her legs.
She worked off her bra, then her underwear, and put all of her clothes in a neat pile. For modesty’s sake, she tucked theundergarments into the dress so they weren’t out in the open. “Shnorkov aghchik,” she heard her mom’s voice say. “Proper girl.”
Ani, buck naked, inched toward the door and opened it a crack, feeling a mix of incredibly vulnerable and thrilled at once. With her clothes balled in her hand, she stuck them outside, but when Raffi tried to grab the heavy, wet pile, it teetered and fell to the floor.
“Oh God, I’ll—” Ani began.
“No, I’ll get it, don’t worry. Just get in there and relax. I’ll take care of everything out here.”
Well, the man said to relax, so she supposed she would.
Leaning into the shower, Ani turned the knob and a waterfall showerhead sprayed, and the room started to steam within a minute. She stepped in and let the warm liquid rush over her. She lifted her face toward the spout and let the water run all along her body, drenching her in its heat but absolutely not purifying her of her thoughts. If anything, when liquid dripped between her thighs, she imagined Raffi’s large hands there. She wondered how he would touch her—would he be gentle, or would he be rough? And with him, she realized she wanted both.
Come in, come in. If she just willed him hard enough, maybe he could hear her plea and enter the bathroom. She wanted to hear the turn of the door handle, see his tall frame tower into her vision. She was burning with need for him. But of course, he wouldn’t come. He was being nothing but gentlemanly, nothing of the Raffi of Yore she’d heard about.
Oh God, this was not off to a good start. But it didn’t matter, she reasoned—thoughts were one thing, but action wasquite another. She would be good. She would not kiss this sexy, kindhearted man who had saved her life.
Because there was a distinct possibility that if they kissed, if they did more than kiss, he would never call her again. She couldn’t get her hopes up, put her heart out there on the line, only for it to be stomped on once again. That was what she needed to focus on.
Ani finished up her shower, sadly not having enticed him to join her with sheer telepathic powers but having successfully not delved too deep into her Raffi fantasies. She wrapped herself in his extra-plush towels, the fabric still carrying the faint warmth of the heated rack.
When she’d finished blow-drying, she found the robe Raffi had mentioned, pulling the soft weight around her shoulders with a sigh. It was the kind of robe that made her want to curl up and never take it off.
Then she checked herself out. Now this was a look. Her hair turned out glossy, bouncy—thanks to Raffi’s unfair talent in picking out hair products. Her makeup was mostly gone, but a touch remained so she had a nice, natural look going. And wrapped in that robe, which skimmed the top of her feet. She cinched the belt tight, the material smooth against her skin—a reminder that she was entirely, completely naked underneath.
She opened the bathroom door and stepped into the hall. At first she didn’t see Raffi, but then she caught him in the kitchen, arranging food on plates, concentration and a touch of panic painting his face. He had gotten them sandwiches, it appeared, and salads in the time she’d spent washing up.
“I didn’t know if you ate meat,” he said as if in mid-thought. “So I got a turkey and a vegetarian from The Parker’s room service, but you can have either.”
Ani’s heart swelled, and a low, steady heat glowed in her chest. It was such a simple thing, really. A sandwich. But the fact that he had thought about it, thought about her, made something settle inside her in a way she hadn’t expected.
She also hadn’t realized how hungry she was until now—for food, sure, but maybe for this, too. For someone noticing the small things.
