Page 133 of Sweet Sin

And again I feel that push-me pull-you thing inside me.

I want him to come. I want him to be my brave knight, to rescue me, the damsel in distress.

But he’s no knight, and I’m no damsel.

I knew exactly what I was doing when I went with Miles.

I turn away from the window and open the chest of drawers.

Panties and bras, all in my size.

I walk to the closet.

Clothes. Mostly dresses and shoes. All in my size.

They’ve been expecting me.

I imagine this room has been stranded in time for the last five years.

I’m still wearing leggings and an oversized T-shirt.

My hair is pulled back in a ponytail, which I’m sure is a mess by now.

I need a shower.

Of course there aren’t any leggings here for me. Not even a pair of jeans. The closest is a pair of navy blue dress pants.

Not too much of a problem. I’ll just put my clothes back on after I’m done showering.

I strip my clothes, head to the bathroom, and start the shower.

And I look in the mirror.

It fogs up from the steam as the shower warms.

Yes. The steam.

Except for the circular shape, right at my eye level.

I’m being watched.

Watched as I take a shower. Watched as I use the toilet. Watched as I do the most private things.

No doubt there are cameras in the rest of the suite as well.

I take care not to look surprised, though I’ve grown up in a family such as this. Surely they know that I know they’re watching me.

I stand naked. Then I get into the shower.

I wash my hair, not just once but twice, lathering it up, trying hard to rinse the dirtiness from me.

Once it’s conditioned, I wash the rest of my body, scrubbing it down with a loofah.

I scrub and I scrub and I scrub until my skin has turned bright pink.

I scrub some more.

When the water has finally turned lukewarm, I turn it off. Get out of the shower.

---