Page 29 of Show Me How
My belly blooms with warmth as I bring my thumb to meet my nipple, pinching it. A breath explodes from me, and I press my thighs together, searching for a friction that I know I won’t find like this.
The water turning ice-cold above me turns my arousal to panic. I gasp and slap my hand back to turn it off. Chilled, I hop out of the tub and wrap myself in a towel as fast as I can. My teeth chatter as I rush out of the bathroom and snag the blackhoodie from the bed. It doesn’t matter that I’m still wet because once I have the heavy material over my head and falling to cover the majority of my body, I can breathe normally again.
A few minutes later, I’m slipping beneath the scratchy blanket and curling up in bed. With the hood up over my wet, unbrushed hair, I grab my phone and unlock it. The one and only message waiting for me is from a number I don’t recognize.
Hey. It’s Shade. Just wanted to make sure you got home okay.
I squeeze the phone tight and stretch my legs out along the cold sheets before I text back.
I did. Then a shower tried to kill me off.
The lag in his reply has me tossing over in bed, unease creeping into my mind. Maybe he didn’t want to start a conversation and really only wanted to check up on me.
Oh yeah? How?
There’s not much hot water. I enjoyed it while it lasted.
The message goes through quickly, and I hate that this phone doesn’t let me see once he’s read it. Sighing, I lie on my back and stare at the ceiling, my toes close to turning into ice cubes.
I remember it being the same way when I’d stay there as a kid. They haven’t upgraded that place in years.
Do you know if there are heaters in the cabins by chance?
Only fireplaces.
Of course. So, I’ll either need to ask someone for help or try to figure it out on my own.
Did you find the woman who was looking for you?
I did.
And?
And what?
I tap my fingers to my hip, contemplating asking what I really want to know. If I do, he’s going to tease me about it. But honestly, that wouldn’t even be the worst thing.
Did you invite her inside?
No. I didn’t.
Aw, I’m sorry.
If I did, we wouldn’t be talking right now. Is that what you’d prefer? She didn’t have an invite to my place.
I’m tired.
The quirk of my lips is unstoppable as I send my message and stare at the screen, waiting. I make sure my hair is tucked fully into the hood and lift my knee beneath the blankets.
Well, how do I keep you awake?
I remember something about 21 questions.
Shall I go first?
Something about this feels dangerous. Like I’m poking the bear and waiting for the swipe of his paw. Typing out my reply, I wiggle against the mattress and try to relax.
Only if you have a good question.
