My core clenches. My toes curl and heat pools between my thighs.
“I’m going in the shower,” he says as he yanks off his trousers, his dick tenting his boxers.
I gulp the popcorn down, my eyes fixed on his jutting erection. “Might wanna make it a cold one.”
He glances down at himself and then back to me, his eyes lingering for a beat too long. “A cold fucking shower is warmer than your hospitality.” He storms into the bathroom and pushes the door to, but it doesn’t click shut, leaving a sliver of light shining into the bedroom.
I shovel more popcorn into my mouth as I lean forward on the bed.
Dan lathers himself in soap, scrubbing harshly, as if he can wash away the tension. He turns his back to me, and I watch the rivulets of water run over the cross on his back and words that I can’t make out from this distance. I hadn’t noticed the small words wrapping around the cross before. Never studied him long enough.
I pad the few steps to the bathroom door and get a closer look.
These violent delights have violent ends
I suck in a breath, the quote from my favourite book.
He turns to the side, his hands washing shampoo into his short hair.
My gaze follows the soap sliding down his body all the way down to his jutting cock, thick and rigid with dark veins. My heart rate picks up speed as he trails a hand down to his cock, creating more bubbles there with the soap.
Heat pools low in my belly, watching him make a fist around his erection, one hand braced against the shower wall as water cascades over him.
My mouth waters at the sight. He’s annoyinglymagnificent. My clit tingles at memories of him making me come on the plane. His words from the phone call today and how he was with my son last night. Our son. I should stop giving him grief. If Mamma can trust him, perhaps I should too.
I pad away from the door before he sees me watching, although he admitted to watching me, so I shouldn’t be ashamed, but I’m afraid if I continue to watch, I’ll do something I regret, like join him in the shower and reenact our mile high experience from today.
I climb back onto the bed and act nonchalant.
He walks into the room, rubbing his hair with a towel, another towel wrapped around his waist. “Have you eaten?” His voice is much softer now, matching his dick, judging by how the towel hangs straight.
I wave my hand in front of all my snacks laid out on the bed, my cheeks still glowing under the mask. I need to take it off, but it’s hiding a multitude of sins right now.
He drops on the bed next to me, the towel around his waist parting to reveal his muscly inked thigh. “You need to eat some proper food, Rose. You should take better care of yourself with your condition.”
“The paninis here are really nice. I could go for a tuna melt.”
“I’ll order, then let you watch your movie in peace.” He smiles softly.
“Did you have a personality transplant while you were in the shower?”
“No, why?”
“You’re being nice. It’s not sohard, is it?”
“You have no fucking idea.” His gaze lingers on me, his lips tightening, like he’s not sure whether to kiss me or strangle me.
Maybe both.
“Take that ridiculous mask off. I can’t take you seriouswith it on.” He reaches a hand up and peels it from my skin. “Why does it have a bunny face?”
I shrug my shoulder with a smile. “It’s the only one they had at the airport.”
His hand swipes the damp hair from my neck, his fingers lingering there as he examines his handy work with a smirk.
I glare at him. “Do you brand all the girls you seduce at 30,000 feet?”
“Just you.” He leans close. “When you look in the mirror, maybe you’ll remember you’re mine.”
