Page 8 of Savage Seduction

“Did the guy leave a message for me? Give any indication as to who he was?”

“One of your many escapades, I’m sure. But like I said, it’s not my job to keep track of your shit.” Bob walks away andtakes out his radio and says, “Bernice, where the hell are you? Over.” His radio crackles to life, but Bernice’s response is inaudible at that distance. I shake my head and sigh. Bernice Bartlett is a lovely woman with a heart of gold and the patience of a saint. How she puts up with that man is beyond me.

For all I know, Bob could be completely making it up to get my goat. He’s been known to harass other employees in the past, but after his last warning from Catherine Nakamura, the chief curator at the museum, he has been keeping much more to himself.

I shrug it off and put it out of my mind. I have to be sharp for the delivery coming up tonight. If anything gets damaged or lost in transit it could be my head. With very little pull and an even smaller title behind my name, it would be really easy to get fired and black-balled from the industry.

Hurrying across the wide main entrance, I push through the door to the back labyrinth of hallways and elevators that go down to underground laboratories but never go above the first floor. It’s a whole other part of the museum I’d never known existed until I started working here.

Before meeting up with my mentor, Doctor Paul Austin, I need to ditch the bag and grab my white lab coat from my employee locker. One of these days when promoted past junior curator, I’ll have an office of my own where I won’t have to worry about finding a safe space for my belongings.

At the end of the hallway, I use an electronic keycard to enter the men’s locker room. The room isn’t well lit but has multiple rows of lockers and benches. I open my locker, shove my bag inside, and then remove the lab coat. As I close the door and turn the combination dial to secure it, I hear a crash come from inside the shower room.

I run into the shower and slide to a stop. Lying on the floor is a naked man, legs in the air. His jiggly bits flop about atwill. “Are you okay?” I turn off the shower and offer a hand to help the man stand.

“I… think so,” he says, rubbing the back of his head, still covered with shampoo. He pulls hard on my proffered hand and stands up in front of me. His thick shoulders, trim waist, large… hands. My mouth waters as I tear my gaze from his nakedness.

“Here.” I hand him a towel.

The man takes it and clears away the suds from his face rather than wrapping it around his waist. Well, shit if he doesn’t mind me looking, why should I? “Who would have thought the damn floor would be so slick?”

Wanting to step closer and cradle the man’s head in my hands, I force myself to stay put. “Is that a Texas accent I’m hearing?”

“Yes, sir.” He offers his hand to shake. “The name’s Bretton Wolf.”

“Max Salgado.” We shake hands, Bretton’s slick with soap, but his grip strong and eager.

Bretton looks down at his waist with a smirk and then slowly wraps himself in the towel. I notice he’s wearing a wedding ring. All the cute ones are married these days.

“Not used to meeting people lying on my back naked.” Bretton’s face turns red, and we both laugh.

“Yeah, me neither.” I feel myself blush too.

“I’d better get back to it.” Bretton gestures to the shower head.

I step back, a piece of me wishing to be invited to stay. “For sure. It was great meeting you.” I turn to walk away but stop and look back. “I’m the junior curator here, by the way.”

“Curator, huh? I wouldn’t have expected one of the bigwigs to be here this late.”

I harrumph. Big wig? Yeah right. “I’m assisting Dr. Austin with a delivery coming in from Chicago tonight.”

“Makes sense. I don’t actually work here, but The Field Museum asked for me to come and assist Dr. Austin with his research.” He turns the water back on but doesn’t step into the stream. “Delay after delay at the airports turned my quick flight into an all-day affair. Once I got here, my rental car got a flat tire, and I had to change it. Needless to say, my clothes and I were a wreck by the time I got here. Or I wouldn’t be using the museum showers.” He chuckles, still blushing a bit.

“I didn’t realize Dr. Austin was going to need more than me assisting with the exhibition.” I feel hurt at the thought I’m not enough for the job. I’ve been in on multiple exhibitions, each time the assistant to the assistant. Basically, I’m the gofer and I’ve grown tired of it.

“Oh, right,” Bretton says. “From what I’ve been told, he needed an Egyptologist to help with some cartouche translations. I guess this museum is going to highlight some alternative ideas as to who King Tut really was, or something like that.”

I smile. “You’re an Egyptologist? That is so cool. I would love to hear about the pyramids from someone with firsthand knowledge of them. And you read hieroglyphs? Now, that’s badass.”

Bretton smiles and looks away, a sheepish grin spreading across his face.Oh geez, I’m fan-boying all over him and he isn’t even wearing pants. I clear my throat. “Well, I’d better let you get back at it.”

“It was a real pleasure to meet you, Max?” Bretton clarifies my name as he slips off his towel and hangs it on the wall behind the shower spigot.

I pull my obvious stare from between his legs to his eyes and nod, trying desperately not to look back down at Bretton’s well-groomed, thick cock. This is work, not the gym after all. “Yeah, for sure. I’ll see you in the lab later after the exhibit gets delivered.”

“See you around, Max.” Bretton smiles, making eye contact before he turns to face the wall and wash the soap from his hair. Had he given me the signal? I laugh to myself. I’ve never been good at figuring out if people are interested in me. Probably explains why I’m still single; that and I have trouble trusting anyone.

I reach for the door but look back and catch a glimpse of Bretton’s toned backside—the hot water trailing over his muscular frame. Steam rising from his skin, filling the room around him.Don’t go there, Max. I tear my gaze away and leave the room. The cool, dry air of the locker room chills my skin and causes me to shiver. I check the time on my watch. Dr. Austin wouldn’t be thrilled at how long he’s already waited, so I’d better get going.

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