Page 28 of Show Me How
This is new. I’m not used to having such a raw reaction to someone like this.
It’s like he’s picked the lock on some hidden, lustful part of me that I’ve kept tucked away. Only he didn’t even have to try to pick it. I handed him the key and begged to be broken free.
Licking my dry lips, I touch my hot cheeks and suck in a long breath. I’ve got to slow down. He’s not beside me anymore, which I’m as grateful for as I am annoyed. The sooner I got out of there, the less of a chance there was that I was going to makean even bigger fool of myself and try to what? Get on his lap and maul him?
Another low noise escapes me before I unlock my car and follow the glow of the headlights. My heels clap against the sidewalk, and I ignore how fast my pace is.
It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything issooooofine.
“Were you just with Shade?”
I nearly jump out of my skin. Wild eyes searching through the dark, I spot a woman a few steps away. The scowl on her face is a big enough giveaway that I should not be answering her with the truth.
With a hand on the sliver of bare waist exposed from her cropped shirt, she asks her question again. “Were you just upstairs with him?”
“Upstairs? No. I was just, uh, getting a tattoo consult,” I ramble, growing more uncomfortable by the second.
“This late? He’s never open past seven.”
I glance at my car, preparing an escape route in case I’m the one about to get mauled. “Are you meeting him tonight? I’m sorry if I caused a delay.”
“No. I was just . . . stopping by.” She squares her shoulders, eyes rolling with annoyance. “You’re leaving now?”
“Yeah. That’s my car,” I say, jabbing my thumb behind me.
She pulls her lip into her mouth before pushing it back out. “And he’s inside? He wasn’t answering my texts.”
At least I’m not warm anymore. Suddenly, my temperature chills.
“Yeah, he’s inside,” I mutter.
“Thanks.”
I force a smile and abandon the studio. Once I’m in my car, I crank the heat and get the hell out of here before my confidence can dive any further than it already has.
The cabin is freezing.
I stand and stare at the fireplace, willing the wood that’s been placed inside of it to magically light. There’s no thermostat in here, and I expect that these places are too old to have a furnace or air conditioner for the summer heat. This may be as bad as camping in a tent, which . . . I’ve never done. But that’s not the point.
For the cost of this place per night, I didn’t exactly expect to have to freeze half to death every night. The blankets that were folded on the bed when I arrived are scratchy and thin and have done nothing to keep me warm at night. It’s only going to get colder too, and unless I plan on turning into an icicle while I sleep, I need to figure out what to do.
First, I want to shower.
The clothes I purchased today are still scattered where I dropped them on the couch earlier, and right now, I’m glad I took Lacey up on her offer to give them a wash before I came back here. I grab the hair care products still in their bag and make my way to the bathroom. The tiny space has a slightly musky scent, but it’s clean. Unfortunately, that’s not enough to keep me from missing my bathroom from home.
The Jacuzzi tub and glass shower with the three waterfall heads and the bench in the corner feel more luxurious today than they ever have. I miss my electric toothbrush and the heated tile floor. If I could go back and change one thing, it would have been stopping at home and packing before setting out on this journey.
After stripping out of my new clothes, I stand in front of the vanity mirror, staring at myself.
I’m beautiful, I think. I’ve never hated the way I look, and at one point, I was confident enough to easily snag the eyes of men whom I’d meet at various functions. Their attention didn’t last, though. Not when I couldn’t manage to hold a conversation with them or lean in for a kiss when they did. I’ve always been terrible at reading men and situations where I should have done one thing or another.
I’m not a virgin by definition, but I may as well be.
Darting my eyes away from my reflection, I run my hands over my hair and haul my shampoo and conditioner to the shower. With the water running as hot as it can be, I spend a long time massaging the products into my hair before moving on to my body.
The soap runs down my torso, and I watch it pool at my feet. Inhaling deeply, I stare at the rivulets cascading over my peaked nipples. They’re a deeper pink in this lighting, or maybe it has nothing to do with the lighting at all. I swallow and bring a finger to it, slowly tracing the soft tip.
My toes curl in the soapy water as my breath thins, reminding me of being on the couch with Shade. Hearing his blunt, dirty words . . . I’ve never felt that intense of a pulse between my thighs. It was like he had slid his huge hand between them and stroked me there.
