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His chest is a landscape of chiselled perfection. His pecs are broad and powerful, and they glisten with droplets of water he must have missed while drying himself. These trace pathways down to the grooves and ridges of his abs—a perfect set of six. Then there’s his V-line, which is practically an arrow pointing under his towel, loudly proclaiming where his dick is, just in case I needed directions. His arms, meanwhile, are thick and veined, his dampness accentuating the contours of his biceps and triceps.
Hmm, maybe those muscles aren’t just for carrying around large numbers of romance books. I mean, I’m a curvy woman, but seeing him like this, I’m confident Lewis could get me into any position he wanted me, no problem. When we were younger and the lust took a hold of him, he’d always take control of our lovemaking, and I loved that. Now, though, he’s got a strength he didn’t have then, and it’s hard not to wonder what possibilities that might open up.
As I take him in, he retrieves some clothes from his bag. He’s about to head back into the bathroom when I tease, “Are you a true Scotsman under there?”
He smirks. “Obviously. Who wears underwear under a towel?”
“All right, well, before you get changed, give me a quick flash.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “What?”
“Don’t look so surprised. You’ve sent me a lot of pictures of your dick recently. Besides, you’re adamant you won’t take a photo of it when it’s soft, so this is the only way I’ll get to see it like this. Go on.”
“Er . . .” He shifts his weight from foot to foot. There’s a smile playing on his lips—he’s certainly not offended by my request—but he’s unsure. “You’re sending me mixed messages here. I thought we were just friends sharing a room?”
“We are. But friends can have a laugh, can’t they? I just want to see it. It won’t lead to anything.”
“Right . . . er . . .” He makes no move. He doesn’t do what I’ve asked him to do but nor does he retreat into the bathroom.
“Oh, for goodness’s sake. I’ll do it, then.”
I stand and walk over to him. Lewis shrugs as if to say, Whatever. So I bend down, take a hold of his towel, and lift it up, just having the quickest glimpse underneath. I can’t help but giggle. He chuckles too.
“All right, that was all.” I drop the towel again. “You may get changed.”
Shaking his head but still smirking, Lewis disappears into the bathroom. He comes out shortly later in a grey T-shirt and loose navy shorts. There’s a strange juxtaposition between his toned arms and legs and something adorably boyish about the outfit. When we were hooking up between the ages of eighteen and twenty-one, he’d sleep in his underwear—or, more commonly, naked. I don’t remember him ever wearing jammies, but he’s really kind of cute in them, like he’s just begging to be snuggled up to.
“Looking comfy,” I say.
“Aye, I am.” He grins happily. “It’s chilling time.” He hops onto his bed and picks up the TV remote. “Are you okay if I see what’s on?”
“Go for it. I’m going to wash as well. Is there a bath?”
“Aye, but just to let you know, there’s no lock on the door. Not to worry, though. I’m a gentleman.”
I give a curt nod. “Good. Because the last thing I’d want is for you to burst in with me lying there, naked, my body covered in soap suds, rubbing my hands all over as I wash myself . . .”
“Jesus.” He glances away from me for a moment.
“If I looked at your dick now, would I notice any changes?” I tease. “Might it be starting to stiffen up?”
“Bloody hell, there’s teasing and then there’s this. You’re really winding me up.” He shifts slightly. “I know we said no sex, but you’re testing my self-restraint here. I’m going to watch TV and try to clear my head of all the filthy images you’re putting in it. Don’t get me wrong, if you change your mind about things, just let me know. Until then, even if you’re lying naked just a few metres from me, in an unlocked room, rubbing your hands all over yourself, I won’t be doing anything.”
“Understood.” I take off my top.
His eyes widen in shock. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Er, getting ready for my bath?” I tug my jeans off. “What’s the problem? You said being in front of me in a towel is fine because, at the pool, you’re in nothing but shorts. Well . . .” I glance down at my bra and panties. “These cover about the same as a bikini, don’t you think? And what we can’t have is one rule for you and another for me.”
A flush creeps up Lewis’s neck. He’s put the TV on but is paying it no attention. His gaze is on me.
He wipes a hand over his face, and—oh! Was that a twitch in his shorts? Ha, he really is too easy to toy with.
“Enjoy your chilling,” I say, then I head into the bathroom.
I twist the hot water tap and steam begins to rise, filling the room with a warm, misty haze. After I add a generous amount of bubble bath, the tub soon froths up. I slip out of my remaining clothes and sink into the blissfully warm water, its heat seeping into every muscle. Heavenly.
Minutes pass in sheer relaxation, but then I get a little bored. I could do with something to pass the time. Like a book, for example.
