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“You haven’t seen me do a lot of things. For example, did you know that I also shower?”
“I’ve seen you do that,” I told him casually.
“What? When did you see me shower?”
“Your family’s casual attitude toward locking your bathroom doors is astounding,” I told him remembering all of the times I walked in on him and Hil.
Remy chuckled. “I guess it is. We’re French.”
“I mean, kind of. I don’t know if you can claim to be French if you grow up in America. The way I see it, you’re as American as I am. And Americans lock the bathroom door.”
Remy laughed. “I’ll have to remember that.”
“I said they do. I didn’t say you should,” I clarified flirtatiously.
“Oh, and why shouldn’t I?”
“I don’t know. What if there’s an emergency or something?” I explained.
“An emergency? Like what?”
“What if someone needs to see you in the shower? How would they do that if the door’s locked?” I asked as my body washed in heat.
“I guess they would have to ask. All they would need to do is ask,” he said staring down into my eyes.
I swallowed wondering if this was going to be it. It had been hard not to think about our kiss every moment since it happened. But I had had the grand opening to distract me. After that, I had been whisked away on a private jet to Paris. Now, all of that was behind me. In front of me was Remy with his sparkling eyes and his soft pink lips.
“We should grab something to eat,” I told him calling on all of my self-restraint.
As much as I wanted him, and that was a lot, I couldn’t forget that he wasn’t mine. Whether he wanted to be or not, he was engaged and I didn’t want to be that person. I didn’t want to be his afterthought.
“Are you hungry?” Remy asked loosening his grip on me.
“Yeah,” I said feeling him pull away and immediately wondering if I had made a mistake not kissing him.
“I know the perfect place,” he said gesturing for me to get up. “Did you want to shower first?” he asked with a smirk.
“I should,” I told him standing.
“And will that bathroom door be unlocked,” he asked suggestively.
Pantomiming locking a door, I turned and walked away. I have no idea why I did that. Sure, I thought it would be funny since I mentioned what I had about Americans. But the last thing I wanted him to think was that he wouldn’t be welcome in my shower.
Or would he be? I asked myself as I retreated to my room and entered the attached private bath. Undressing, I stared into the wide oval mirror that curved towards me on either end. I stared at my lean body naked. Pushing my hand across my chest, I imagined what Remy’s large hands would look like contrasted to my tan skin.
It made me hard. Taking hold of my cock I squeezed imagining it was Remy doing it. My head fell back from pleasure.
With my eyes closed I pictured Remy leaning down and kissing my lips. He was gentle but assertive. And when I opened my mouth, his tongue entered.
Standing behind me naked, I could feel his large cock. It would be even bigger than what I had seen when I had walked in on him when I was a kid. And testing my opening, he would slide in as if I were made for him.
Stroking my cock, I imagined Remy doing it as he fucked me. I groaned from the pleasure. He was so big. Everything about him made me feel so small.
Lifting me in the air, my legs would fold back around his. And losing myself to the rhythm of his thrusts, he would fuck me harder and harder until he bit my shoulder and I exploded.
“Ahh,” I moaned, hearing the tone echoed back to me in the large, sparse room.
Catching my breath, I leaned forward, bracing myself on the sink. My mind was crackling. I wanted desperately to bury myself in his arms. But as the real world returned to me, my reality reemerged.
