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“For fuck’s sake, Emma. I’ll get you back. I promise,” I called after her. Tires screeched as she took the corner, and my arms dropped to the sides.
“You didn’t even tell me his name,” I whined to myself, and stomped back to the front entrance.
I grabbed the caveman by his arm. “Come.”
His crisp jacket crumpled in my hand. The thick layers of dirt on the outside had me worried about what I’d find underneath.
“Fucking Emma.” I pulled him by the sleeve to the alley where Gus dropped off our products. I entered the code at the panel and opened the side delivery door.
“Follow me and stay close.” I pulled on that dusty jacket again. “Actually, hold on. You’re gonna make a mess. Take this off.”
I went inside, grabbed a fresh robe from the storage room, and passed it to the caveman. He didn’t move.
I growled. “Fine. I’ll get you out of this inside. Don’t make a sound.” I wiggled my finger in front of his face. The corner of his mustache moved a fraction.
The spa covered two floors: showers, steam-rooms, saunas and mudrooms were downstairs, massages and personal care upstairs. We crossed the mud-room, where an appointment with a cucumber masque was marinating in the tub. I guided the caveman across the room and into the private shower area. A smell of mold and mildew, moss, and raw earth wafted around him. I grabbed the lavender air freshener and pressed the nozzle, spraying the surrounding air.
His nostrils fluttered, taking in the scent. I lowered the canister and set my hands on my hips. “Please, tell me you’ve showered before.”
A muscle twitched in his jaw, and I wished I could see his eyes. I adjusted my glasses and watched as he tugged at his oversized coat. A row of buttons popped with the pull. He slipped off the coat and tossed it aside. My head flew with the throw, then back to the muscled man standing in front of me. He looked more like a bear than a gorilla. A thick, burly bear with the strength of ten men. Brawn and mystery oozed from the man, stirring a primal urge in my belly.
“Take off your pants.” My voice quivered.
The corner of his mustache curved, or so I thought. I ignored the higher shift of his forehead and followed his overworked hands to his hips. He gripped the joggers and bent in half, stepping out of the pant legs. The path up his hairy calves, knees, and lean thighs three times the size of mine led to a surprise. Mr. Caveman went commando. His healthy cock hung low and to the side, holding my stare longer than appropriate. Then again, there was nothing appropriate about the moment. I bit my lip. I hadn’t seen a thing that large since… Well… It had been a while. My nipples ached at the sweet memory of Hunter’s lips around them. As much as I hated what he’d done, I missed him.
I slowly looked up, afraid the caveman would catch me ogling his obvious pride, but he just stood there, frozen. Dreads covered his face and eyes. He definitely needed a cut, and possibly a psychiatrist.
It’s just a job.
I squeezed in between him and the wall, reaching inside the shower. The knob slipped in my grip and I stumbled into the caveman, then quickly pulled back. The man’s brute strength held me up as I peeled away from his body. Was he also a brute in bed?
What the hell, Grace?I shook off the stupid thought, but it was already too late for the rush of arousal in my veins.
I cleared my throat. “Now that we know each other, you should tell me your name.” I tapped at his elbow, guiding him further inside the shower, but he didn’t move. “Come on. Give me a break. You have to shower and wash before we attempt to get that gorilla costume off you.”
Water dripped down his arm where the shower reached him from the side. Layers of dirt trickled down his skin and onto the tiles, revealing a bronzed complexion, taut skin, and a gallery of muscles.
“Here.” I shoved him underneath the stream and closer to the shampoo dispenser, pumping a dab on my hand.
He didn’t move. Except now the shower had soaked his naked glory. My right side was wet, and if my client finished her mud bath before the caveman showered, I would die of embarrassment. We had to cross the mudroom to the private waxing area.
I reached for his hand and slid the shampoo off my palm and into his. He stood like a statue, and my hope trickled down the drain.
“I’m going to kill Emma,” I said to nobody, removed my shoes, and stepped inside. The overhead rain shower drenched my shirt and pants. I removed my glasses and set them blindly on a holding shelf.
“Get down.” I pushed on his wide shoulders, and he dropped to his knees. I dabbed more shampoo on my palm and spread the goo into the scalp between his dreads.
A primal moan rumbled through the falling water and made my limbs go limp. I stopped.
What was I doing? I was standing in a shower with a naked Neanderthal, washing him because Emma had told me to.
He swept the dreads off his face while I wiped the water off my eyes, half blind.
“You make a habit of washing cavemen, Grace?” I hadn’t heard the familiar voice in five long years. It aroused anger and pure lust all at once.
It couldn’t be, could it?
I gulped through the thickness in my throat and connected my gaze with Hunter’s piercing blue eyes. His hooded stare, broken with strands of dreads, nearly stopped my heart.
