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“Are you going to get ready too or are you planning to stare at me all day?”
Shifting my gaze, I grab my clothes from yesterday and head for the bathroom, locking the door this time. I'm dressed and ready by the time the knob is twisting. I wasn't fast enough I guess. I need to start setting a timer with him. He's still only in a shirt and his underwear when I pull the door open.
“I'm hearing weird noises again.”
“Of course you are. Why aren't you dressed yet?”
“I have to pee and shower first.”
“You can shower when we're in Florida. We're already running behind as it is.”
“I can’t wait that long. They don't let us wash up often at the warehouse and others are always taking my soap. I'll be quick, I promise.”
He squeezes past me, not giving me a chance to respond, and immediately pulls off his clothes.
“Wait,” he calls out as I'm walking out of the bathroom. “Don't go.”
“Phillip. This is getting ridiculous.” I stay facing the room and lots of shuffling happens behind me.
“Please.” Water hits the tub and the metal shower rings cause a scraping noise against the plastic pole.
“Hurry up. You have two minutes.”
Soft humming fills the room and stops when the water does. “Hand me a towel, please.”
I grab a towel from the bottom cabinet and my tongue feels too big in my mouth the moment my eyes land on his dripping wet slender form. I stop myself from following the thin happy trail on his stomach. This man knows nothing about modesty. “Here.” I unfold the towel between us and his naked form disappears behind it. Why is it so hard to keep my eyes from traveling? Going without sex for fifteen years and lack of sleep don't mix well together. It's all finally catching up to me and finding the wrong time to do so.
“Thanks.” He takes the towel and drags it along his body. I leave the bathroom before I end up helping him with all those hard to reach places.
“Tony?”
“I'm out here.” I pound my palm into my forehead.
“Can you bring me the clean pants from the floor, please?”
“Yup.” Why the hell didn't he take them with him? I grab the pants, holding back a groan when he's waiting for me with hisback turned in front of the open doorway, fully naked and no towel in sight. The curve of his lower back leads to his small, perky ass. Chingada. “I'm going downstairs. Come meet me in the kitchen when you’re ready.” Turning around, I hold his pants out behind me and wait until he grabs them from my hand before walking toward the bedroom door.
“How am I supposed to know where the kitchen is? I told you I don't like being alone here.”
“I don't care,” I say abruptly, rushing into the hallway, unable to breathe until I'm far away from the room. Someone else has to accompany him after today. I'll talk to Zacharias or Enrico when this is all over.
“There you are. Is the little one still sleeping?” Angel asks, curving around the stairs and I'm making my way down.
“Phillip, and no. He'll be down soon.” I walk down the last few steps and follow Angel to the kitchen. A table holds various plates of food: fruit, pancakes, sausage, and bacon. Then there's a bowl of soup randomly added to the mix. “I'll probably take this to him instead. All this will do is remind him he can’t eat until the job is done.”
“It's a little late for that. It's okay. Not the first time I've been around food I can't touch,” Phillip says as he enters the room. He must have overheard me talking to Angel.
“You sure you wouldn't rather take the soup to the room?”
“Why soup? I don't think I've had that before swallowing drugs. Usually all I get beforehand is a numbing spray and some pill.”
“Lucky you, you'll get a pill and soup this time. It's very oily and will help the bags slide down easier,” Angel says, pulling out a chair. “Come. Eat.”
Phillip looks at me as if asking for approval and I walk with him to where Angel is, waiting until he sits down before tossing myself in the chair next to his.
“I have a truck waiting out back whenever he's done.” Angel sets down a backpack full of drugs, along with my bags from the car.
“A truck?” I lift a brow.
