‘Sadly not,’ he murmurs, eyes rising to mine. ‘Bodies I’m pretty good with.’
This I already know.
‘It wouldn’t help. I don’t function on a cerebral level before caffeine.’
‘I’m sure I could rouse you, given the chance. Or should I ask Rashid to bring in the coffee pot?’
My eyes dart nervously to the door. ‘Rashid’s here?’
‘When is he not? I wasn’t about to expose you until I make sure you’re thoroughly awake.’ His hands resume tugging.
‘Shower.’ Both voice and resolve wobbles as I make a shooing motion with one hand, the other hanging tightly to the last threads of my modesty.
‘Spoil sport,’ he chides, laying the robe across my legs as he stands.
As the bathroom door clicks closed, I flop back against the pillows, blowing out a large puff of air.Relieved or not; I can’t decide. I swing my legs over the edge and slide on the robe, knotting it at my waist, trying very hard to ignore the splashing cascade of water and the accompanying images swirling through my head. It isn’t long before the bathroom door opens and steam drifts out.
‘Your turn.’
Seal black, wet hair drips beads of water to his shoulders as he tucks a white towel low on his hips. Smiling, he reaches for his toothbrush. ‘Silk suits you.’
My stomach flips as I recall the sensation of it against my wrists. Padding across the marble floor, I try not to stare at his wet, toned flesh while somehow managing to harrumph a little so as not to appear affected. ‘You’re just all about the aesthetics.’
‘Is it so wrong to appreciate beauty?’
I shrug, plucking the toothbrush from his hand. Switching it on, I pop it in my mouth. He is beautiful. He surrounds himself with the same. Maybe I’m an anomaly.
‘Youare beautiful,’ he asserts, moving to stand behind me. ‘Can I not appreciate you?’
I rinse the brush, gaze moving from his reflection to my own. Maybe he needs an eye exam. I’m okay looking, pretty even, though not so much this morning. Lacking that soft mussed-up just laid look, I lean more toward scruffy and sport a massive post-coitus pouf.
‘Stop.’ A soft finger presses the creased skin between my eyes. ‘You’re exquisite, you know.’
His hands snake around my waist, loosening the belt. He’s all minty and moist in the steam filled room, his reflection burning with challenge. Taking the brush from my passive hand, he slides the silk from my shoulders, dropping it to the ground. And I’m naked and looking at myself again.
‘Inti amar. See? Beautiful.’ He draws a finger down my torso, eyes following suit. ‘And it’s better to be beautiful than good.’
‘Did you get that out of a fortune cookie?’ I watch his expression. ‘And who says I’m not good?’
‘I don’t think you even know how good you are.’ With a sinful smile, he turns me in his arms. ‘And I’m sure Oscar Wilde never worked with the Chinese.’
I snort. I’m now naked and snorting.Great. ‘Words of wisdom from the man who also said,I can resist anything but temptation?’
‘A philosophy to appreciate, I’m sure. Not quite Aristotle’s aesthetics, but a man of high ideals, all the same.’ His hand is large and warm on my hip, his thumb drawing small circles against the bone.
‘It’s way too early for philosophy,’ I whisper, relaxing into his touch.
‘Too early for philosophy and too late for sex.’ His thumb continues to circle in a slow, methodical motion. ‘You’re quite sure about that?’
I don’t answer as my body jolts, the handle of his toothbrush pressed between my legs.And it’s switched on. With the brush balanced in the palm of his hand, he presses it against me, the bristled head nearer his wrist. I gasp, my hands grabbing the vanity at my back as I lean against it.
‘Oh!’ The sensation is unusual and, well, electric... very... pleasant.
‘Oh?’ he teases, his mouth a hairs-breadth above mine.
‘Ohhh,’ I breathe as he changes the angle of his hand, my own now grasping his shoulders, my mouth against his. I feel his lips curl against my own as I begin to whimper, trying to wriggle away or draw closer, I’m not really sure.
‘Pervertables,’ I think he murmurs, but that can’t be right.
