Heknows what will happen if he does.
And in typical Cormac fashion, I know all I have to do is leave adoor cracked, both metaphorically and literally. He’ll do the rest, breaking down the barriers and taking what I don’t have the courage to ask for.
Stepping onto the top of the stairs, I find myself with two options.
I could use the hallway shower, the one I’ve used every day since I’ve been here.
Or…
Is it more obvious if I use the one in his room?
Jesus Christ, I’m overthinking this.
I’m not even sure I want it to be obvious or that I want him to get in with me.
That’s a lie.
Of course I do.
I just don’t want to say it.
Maybe he was right. Maybe I’m so fucked in the head that I need to convince myself I don’t want it, that he’s taking all of it by force, so I don’t need to feel guilty for letting him burrow into my soul.
His bathroom is just as pristine as the rest of the house, a nearly empty vanity with minimal toiletries. Starting the water, I wander to the counter as it heats up, grabbing the beautiful bottle nestled in with his razor and shaving cream.
Lifting the glass up to my nose, I inhale the utterly sinful cologne, my body getting fucking high at the scent Cormac wears. But even fresh from the bottle, it can’t compare to how intoxicating it is on his skin.
Of course, he could make even expensive cologne better somehow.
As the room starts to warm and steam, I strip my clothes with all the gentleness of ripping a Band-Aid off, throwing myself into the hot stream of water.
I let the heat wash over my muscles, relishing in the incredible pressure of water falling from the ceiling, wishing the relaxing water was enough to calm my nerves.
He probably won’t even do it.
I can’t hear anything, no movement at all, and I’m equally relieved and disappointed.
Every time Cormac has had his hands, or mouth, orthighon me, every barrier I’ve erected between us crumbles, and I don’t know how many more I have before I’m the one who begins to break.
So maybe it’s good that he’s not coming.
Waiting a few more minutes with bated breath, I bide my time by actually showering, stealing a bit of his soap to scrub myself clean, counting the minutes.
My stomach drops when I realize that he’sreallynot going to join me.
A slimy feeling winds its way into my stomach.
The rejection of it stings, even though I never actually offered him anything to reject.
Finally, once I’ve started to prune and feel slightly deflated, I leave the shower, wrapping myself in a fluffy towel.
Releasing my hair from the clip that kept it up, I shake my head, letting the mostly dry, starting to curl strands fall, and leave the bathroom to get my clothes from the dryer.
“What’s wrong, Bunny?” Cormac’s voice alerts me to his presence, and my gaze darts up to find him sitting casually at the foot of his bed. “You seem disappointed.”
My eyes narrow slightly, but I do my best to recover from being surprised. “Disappointed? No, the shower was great. This one’s even nicer than the one in the hallway.”
His replying smile is all feral smugness. “Yeah? That’s why you wanted to use the one in my room?”
