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9
The morning comes on too fast, and yet not fast enough. I’m not keen on leaving when it feels like there are things being left unsaid, yet I am eager to get back to the comforts of my own home. Dorothy had it right when she said there was no place like it. What I’m not eager to do is drive in what will undoubtably be a slushy mess. I hate driving in winter!
Leaving the guest bed, which turned out to be a total dream, like lying on clouds, I trudge over to a decorative side chair covered in plain, key lime microfiber and scoop up my clothes that I left in a pile last night, carrying them to the door and across the hall toward the open bathroom.
The house is quiet, and I assume the guys are sleeping. Good, because I’d rather not have my leaving be a “thing.” Good-byes are always awkward, and this morning, I’d like to avoid any more of that. Last night was quite enough for me.
The bathroom is big enough to fit my entire apartment in it, and I feel a twinge of embarrassment come over me as I set my meager belongings on the counter and reach past the shower curtains to crank the water on. I stand in front of the giant mirror spanning half the wall as I undress, peeling off each of the guy’s articles of clothing lent to me, realizing for the first time as I do so that they’d used their clothes as a form of staking a claim. It’s so primal, I snort a laugh.
Here I am, little ol’ me with nothing special to offer, standing in an extravagant bathroom in an equally extravagant house, with three gorgeous, well-to-do, up-and-coming men who all seem to harbor some deep and, now that I think about it, inexplicable interest in me. I look around the bathroom, noting all of the cool black and white marble and gleaming metal accent tiles, the lush towels, glass surfaces, brushed nickel finishes, and even the damn neutral taupe paint on the walls that make me feel so suddenly out of place that I just want to get the hell out of here.
Here, I don’t fit. Here, I’m so completely out of my element I might as well be the maid rather than the coworker and potential love interest. Here, I’m lower than low, and that just isn’t okay with me.
I guess what they say is true: everything is clearer in the light of day. I just hadn’t had to drink a bottle of Captain Morgan to realize it.
I hurry through the shower, cranking it up hot enough to scald my skin, as if I can somehow hold onto that heat and use it like a shield when I venture out into the cold. But nothing could be colder than the chilly realization that you just don’t measure up, right?
Once clean, I wrap myself in what appeared to be and turned out was a fluffy white towel that feels like butter against my skin and use the back of my hand to clear the fog from the mirror hanging over the vanity. With my long, wet locks hanging down around my face and shoulder, I imagine I look even more pathetic than I feel, like a stray dog left out in the rain, and I sneer at my reflection, wondering why the hell I had never been lucky enough to come into riches of my own or opportunities for greatness.
Then I shake my head and remind myself that I’ve made plenty of choices along the way to place myself in this position. No one gets handouts, and I was perfectly fine with my mediocre life until an hour ago.
I make a vow to stop pitying myself as I plug in the blow dryer I found in the sink cabinet, and bend over to dry my hair.
I know from experience that it takes at least ten minutes to complete this process, and I press forward. I may want to leave ASAP, but even less fun than driving in snow is doing it with icicles for hair.
I’m humming a soft tune, completely focused on the cloud of heat I’ve enveloped myself in, when I see a foreign set of feet enter my line of vision.
“Oh!” My heart thuds wildly in my chest as I jackknife upright. “You scared me!” I accuse with a chuckle, seeing Niles standing there in front of me. I get the sense that he came in with a purpose, but whatever that was has been lost as his eyes aren’t looking at me.
Well, they are, but not at my face. Lower.
It’s then that I realize that, in my haste to right myself, I lost my towel, leaving me completely nude and exposed to him.
“Oh!” I drop the hairdryer on the counter and lunge for the towel, now pooled at my feet, yanking it up and hastily covering my body with the scrunched material. It’s not much now, bunched up as it is, but I manage to cover the basics.
Niles, being Niles, starts stuttering. “I-I’m s-s-s-sorry. Shit. I d-didn’t realize, Elle. I kn-knocked, but you didn’t answer. Shit. Shitshitshit. I’ll go.” He jerks his thumb over his shoulder, already backing up.
He’s so damn cute. All the stuttering and wide eyes and shock and fear mixed with open desire melt my insides, and my lady parts respond in a primal way.
Rather than allow him to leave, my arm shoots out and my hand grasps his arm to stop him. He looks at me as if he’s sure I’m about to smack him, but instead, I release my grip on the towel and delight in watching his gorgeous eyes slip south once again, blazing with want and need.
“Sorry?” My voice comes out husky, heavy with desire. “I’m not.” I watch a molten look overtake his eyes, and then I step into him at the same time he steps into me, and we converge at once with a heated kiss that, if I were wearing any, would have knocked my socks off. Instead, I feel a total-body flush work its way from the tips of my toes up to the top of my head, raising goose bumps across every inch of my exposed skin. Tingles run their way over my scalp and down my limbs, uniting between my legs with such strength that I moan out loud into Niles’ mouth.
Words can’t adequately express just how much I want this man in this moment. The most I can manage is to say that it’s a moment I will never forget, one that inspires thoughts that dare to be given voice—a voice that I know instinctively he wants to hear and his friends would more than welcome.
I want him.
And his friends.
I want what they want me to offer, and I know if I choose to make that leap of sexual readiness, they’ll welcome me with open arms and hard members.
The very idea sends a flood of warmth straight to my lady parts, and I grind my hips against Niles’ in a bid for his eager touch. The message is well received and he doesn’t disappoint. With his dexterous, long fingers, he finds my swollen nether lips and uses my silken heat to glide effortlessly between them, cleaving them apart and dancing briefly over my engorged clit before diving deep inside of me, eliciting a primal growl from deep within that I wasn’t aware I could make.
I push onto my tiptoes and gouge my fingers through his hair, clamping down tight on the lush roots as I punish his mouth with hungry kisses that communicate to him just how badly I want him. Take me here, now, on every surface, and don’t stop until the sun goes down and rises again. The voice inside of me is filled with desperation, and I shower him with that too, ensuring that I will get what I want, how I want it.
Niles is the type of man, I’ve learned, who aims to please. He’s not as uptight and antisocial as he would have everyone believe. Rather, he’s warm and affectionate and filled with a deep wealth of passion that could easily be overlooked, and has been, simply because of his reserved nature.
I am so glad I chose to kiss this man; otherwise, I would be missing out on all of this hotness and I’d be kicking my own ass from here to kingdom come.
