Page 34 of Tangled With the Wrong Guy
She led him over, opened the door, and he let out ayou’re kidding melaugh. ‘Jesus, that’s … bijou. How on earth do you manage in here?’
There was no window, just the loo, a tiny shower with a curtain, a basin barely larger than a cereal bowl, and her toiletries squashed onto a corner shelf. No space for a cupboard.
‘It’s an incredible design achievement, really,’ she said defensively, turning her back as he flipped up the toilet lid and unzipped his jeans. She stood beside the open door, and now there was only the sound of …
Washing hands was going to be fun.
‘Chloe,’ he said, after a moment. ‘How would you feel about … I mean, I’m feeling quite ick, given all the alcohol and the whole vomiting episode. I’d really love a shower.’
She turned to him, raising her eyebrows.
‘Okay,’ he said, running his eye over the tiny space, ‘if I pull the curtain for modesty and waterproofing reasons, that will represent a serious washing challenge. If Idon’tpull it, there’ll be a flood and you’ll have to see me butt naked.’
She paused (it was a very brief pause) as that image swam in front of her.
‘Or, we could help each other undress and then shower together,’ she said. ‘I think we could both just about fit in.’
She got the distinct impression that was the answer he’d been hoping for.
‘I need a shower too,’ she said in response to his smile. ‘Busy day at work.’ Her tone was matter of fact, but her heart was thumping. ‘Would you like to shower before or after food and tea?’
He chuckled. ‘You’re so polite. I’d like to shower right now, please and thank you Chloe.’ He began undoing her jeans.
Soon their lower halves were naked, their jeans and underwear in a heap on the living room floor. But there was no way to completely remove his T-shirt and her shirt, both of which were now hanging from their shackled wrists.
‘Scissors,’ she said, leaning into the bathroom to retrieve a pair from the sponge bag on her shelf. They were only nail scissors, but her enthusiasm for the task soon saw his stripy T-shirt fall to the floor. She kicked it away saying, ‘Good riddance to that. Although I have to admit, you did look pretty good in it.’
Patapouf sauntered over and sniffed it, then fixed Joel with an amber-eyed stare.
Chloe laughed. ‘Look at his face –hemost certainly doesn’t approve of stereotyping Frenchmen.’
Her shirt was soon added to the pile, and then her bra with a severed strap. Two destroyed items of clothing were surely a price worth paying for whatever was to follow.
Whatwouldfollow? And what about–
What did we say about living in the moment, Chloe?
She squeezed into the bathroom, pulled the door closed and turned on the shower. When the water was warm she stepped under it; he shuffled in next to her, facing her, and she pulled the curtain round them.
‘Okay if I …’ he said, adjusting the shower so he could fit beneath it.
Then they were pressed together, and hot water was coursing over them. She turned her face upwards, closing her eyes so it flowed over her head, taking with it the city dust, smoothing her hair into a long, dark slick down her back.
She didn’t need to open her eyes to know what was going on with Joel. It was like a rod of steel pressing into her stomach. Reinforced steel. It was clear to Chloe, as it had been on three occasions now, that, whether or not Joel strongly identified with Oscar Wilde, he was also very much attracted to women. So – bi, then.Glad that’s all cleared up.
‘Would you like me to wash your hair?’ she said, opening her eyes.
‘That’d be nice.’ He dipped his head under the shower.
She bent down to pick up the shampoo and came face to face with his erection. It was unequivocal in its appreciation of her wet, naked body. Surely he’d like her to do something about it this time?
She straightened, and squeezed a blob of shampoo onto his hair. He bent his head, closing his eyes, and she lathered it up, then began to massage his head.
She heard his sigh of pleasure above the hiss and splash of the shower. ‘That feels so great.’
She gazed at his beautiful face, the rivulets of water trickling over his high cheekbones and on down his square jawline; his long eyelashes wet and spiky, his full lips glistening with moisture.
This time yesterday, I didn’t even know you existed. And now …
