Page 17 of The Lottery

My mind wanders to Marek, to the way his hands felt covering mine as he stared into my eyes like he was seeing into my soul. To the way his mouth curved with a smile when I said something he found amusing, accentuating that gorgeous dimple that I just want to lick.

Damnit.

I force myself to think of something--anything--else. I decide to mentally review the various plants we have seedlings for and what their medicinal properties are.

After silently reciting about a dozen, my thoughts begin to scatter, losing focus as a myriad of images dance through my mind. I’m pulled back to the moment when I hear the faint sound of water running. It was dead quiet in my bathroom a second ago, so this must be the pipes from the suite next door.

Marek’s room.

That doesn’t necessarily mean it’s Marek in the shower, I remind myself. It might be the toilet flushing or the sink running. He would also be paired with someone, like the rest of us.

The thought of another woman sharing a suite with him makes me irrationally angry. I try to push the thought away, but unwarranted jealousy gets the best of me. “Metis?” I ask the room. “Can you tell me where Marek Volkav is?”

“Marek Volkav is in suite one,” the AI answers. Despite the warm water, the response sends a shiver through me.

“Is...” I try to think of the right way to word my follow up, knowing Metis probably isn’t programmed to give away everyone’s private information. “How many residents are in suite one?”

“One person currently occupies that suite.”

I could get used to having an all-knowing computer at my disposal.

I could also get used to the thought of Marek showering one wall away from me.

Naked.

Water pouring over his chiseled muscles.

Oh hell.

I groan and sink more deeply into the tub. I needed a distraction from him, but I think he’s become the distraction to a complex and exhausting day.

Frustrated, I sit up and grab the shampoo bottle, dumping a puddle into my palm, gritting my teeth through the pain that shoots out from my shoulder. I scrub my hair first, then my body, getting all the grime and smoke and… earth… off of me.

I don’t want to think about my anger. My pain. The things I’ve left behind.

I dunk under the water to rinse off.

I don’t want to worry about what will be.

I squeeze out my hair, getting all the soap out, until the water runs clean.

I just want to feel good.

Just for a moment.

I slide my hand over my breasts to rinse the rest of the soap, my nipples pebbling at the touch... at the thought of Marek’s hands doing the touching.

Oh. God.

Maybe this is what I need. Maybe I just need to like… go all in—mentally—and purge him from my system once and for all.

My hand slides down my belly, between my legs.

I am hot and wet already.

I ache with every thought of Marek’s eyes stripping me down to my soul.

When I slide my fingers into myself, I imagine they are Marek’s, that he is naked and between my legs, his mouth on my breasts as his hand lights me on fire from within.

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