Page 22 of Sinful Promises

I was verging on being a creepy voyeur. Maybe that’s why men were so fascinated. Boobs really were captivating.

I turned my attention to the men in the room, in particular. . . their dicks. Lordy. Lordy. It was a penis smorgasbord. Big. Really big. And then there were the small ones. One guy strutted past me with biceps so big he could’ve probably lifted a fridge with his bare hands, yet his cock was so tiny it had shriveled into a ball. Not that he seemed to care. He didn’t even have hair to hide it.

That was the other thing—I thought I’d be the only one with pubic hair. Nope. The Germans seemed to like a bit of bush.

I felt right at home. Sort of.

“You can hang your robe over here.” Jonas pointed at a rack of hooks.

I blinked at him. He blinked at me.

Oh, God. This was it.

Swallowing back the last of my inhibitions, I peeled off my robe. My heart was in my throat as I hung it on a spare hook.

I, Daisy Chayne, was standing naked in a room full of people.

Hoooooly shit! What the fuck am I doing?

Jonas had removed his slippers and draped his towel over his shoulder. And, copying his move, I did the same, discreetly adjusting the towel over my breasts.

“We’ll do a sauna first. You okay with that?”

“Sure.” Hell, sign me up for anything right now. I have clearly lost my marbles.

He directed my attention to a chalkboard. “Do you have a preference?”

I studied a list detailing the dozen or so saunas to choose from. Both dry and wet. Each one offered a different sensory experience. Different aromas. Different settings. Different temperatures. Different sounds too . . . Balinese, birds, waves at the beach. Even silence for those who wished to meditate. The options were overwhelming.

“I . . . I don’t know. Which one’s your favorite?”

“Don’t really have one.” He shrugged. “Let’s start around here.”

Walking at his side and trying not to peek at his cock flopping about, I arrived at a glass door. He opened it and guided me forward. The instant I entered, both heat and delightful scents of hot timber and oriental spices hit me. Six other people were in there and the guy right in front—bald, wrinkled, bulging belly, and seated with his legs wide apart—had his balls flopped onto his towel.

Good God!

I snapped my eyes away and they landed on Jonas, who was everything the other man was not. After folding his towel, he placed it onto the top row of seats, and when he climbed the rows, I was treated to a truly world-altering view of what a man’s ass should look like. At the top, he sat and patted the spot by his side.

Barely able to breathe, I followed him up the rows of seats, folded my towel over the wooden rungs, and sat.

Jonas glanced at me—at my eyes and not my tits, that was—and I was stunned by how blue his eyes were. Like a perfect summer sky. “Have you been in a sauna before?”

“No, actually. This is my first.” I was doing so many firsts right now my head was spinning.

“That’s what Rebecca had said too. Now she comes here all the time. Hey, if she comes tonight, I’ll introduce you. She’s just like you.”

“Really?” That’d be a first. Nobody was like me.

“Well, you know what I mean?”

The sauna’s dry heat made my eyeballs feel weird when I blinked at him. “Ummm, no.”

“You know—funny, spontaneous.”

Oh, jeez. Funny-weird maybe, but spontaneous? Hell no. I couldn’t even choose a meal without pondering all the choices. No, that was not me. Then again, I was sitting in a sauna with seven naked strangers. Two of whom were old enough to be grandparents.

“What part of Australia are you from?”

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