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But then she collapsed into a crying mess on my floor, and the illusion shattered. She was real. And she was here. How, I didn’t know.
I turned the water off and grabbed a towel from the rack, tying it swiftly around my waist before tentatively stepping out of the shower stall toward the woman on the floor.
She sobbed like her heart was broken.
“Are you hurt?” I whispered softly, dropping down to kneel beside her. I couldn’t see any blood or a visible injury, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t one.
She shook her head but continued to cry.
I had no idea what to do, so I sat down on the tiles next to her and just waited. I honestly knew very little about women and their emotions, or what to do in a situation like this. My mother had been quiet and gentile. I’d never even seen her cry more than a tear or two, and that had been when my father was dying.
When the red-haired beauty finally stopped sobbing, I reached for an extra towel and handed it to her.
She offered me half a smile and proceeded to wipe her face, then slowly tried to get up.
I jumped to my feet and offered her my hand.
“Thank you,” she gulped, her American accent ringing in the tiled room. “But I’m just going to wash my face. Excuse me.” She didn’t take my hand, in fact, she hurried over to the basin and splashed some cold water on her face. Then she dried her cheeks and blew her nose with toilet paper.
I couldn’t help but stare at her. Despite her crying and interesting clean-up routine, she was... simply beautiful. Even puffy and red, she was the most glorious woman I’d ever seen. Despite being a recluse, I’d seen my share of beautiful women in the moments I’d allowed myself to venture south and indulge in the lushness of the Canadians.
When she finally seemed calm enough to talk, she pulled something strange from her hair, and her red locks tumbled down, over her shoulders half way to her ass.
Before I could get a really good look at her derrière, she pirouetted around and looked at me expectantly.
“God you’re beautiful,” I breathed.
She smiled. “Thanks,” she whispered back.
And only then I realized that I’d spoken out loud. “Oh, ah. My apologies. I... I’m Nicky.” I took a step forward and held out my hand.
She brushed her hair back behind her ear with her left hand. “I’m Jaydy.” Then she reached out with her right hand and shook mine.
Her hand felt like silk in my firm grip and I found myself holding on to her for too long.
She finally laughed a little awkwardly.
I let her hand go and flushed. “Sorry.”
“Oh, no. Don’t be sorry,” she said, putting her hands on her flushed cheeks. “I’m the one that’s sorry. I just crashed your shower.”
I laughed and pulled my hair out of its confinement so I could run my hands through the wetness. “Yeah... well, you were certainly a surprise. How about I get dressed and then we talk about how you ended up in my bathroom?”
“Oh... yeah. That sounds like a good plan,” she agreed.
I walked toward the door to my bedroom and slid it open. My bed called to me, telling me to bring the beautiful woman over. Warm sheets and a nice comfortable mattress awaited us.Great, talk about going from the frying pan into the fire!“Ah... you’re welcome to wait here. My dressing room has a door. Excuse me.”
I left her standing in the space between my bathroom and my bedroom, shoe-less and looking so lost I wanted to grab her up in my arms and tell her I’d give her a home that would make her smile.Pull it together, idiot. You just met the woman!I walked as calmly as I could into my dressing room, switched on the light and shut the door.Fucking hell. What is this torment?
My cock was thick and throbbing beneath my towel. I wished I had a cold shower to jump into to cool down. But there was another door and a hot woman to walk past to get back in that shower, so instead of cooling down that way, I grabbed my tightest pair of black jeans from the shelf above my head. A pair I’d brought from Canada back in the nineties.They should do the trick.
I dropped the towel and tugged the jeans on, tucking my cock away, pulling the zipper up tight. It was the twenty-sixth of December tomorrow. I already had a motel booked in Vancouver, and a week of sex planned out to catch me up for the year I’d missed.
My skin was tingling and hot, so I pulled on a lightweight gray sweater. I had to keep myself covered, and cool, or I was going to grab for that siren and hope she wanted me as much as I wanted her. I managed to take one deep breath before I anxiously opened the door.
Jaydy was still standing where she’d stopped, but she was looking around my room. The bed was made at least, I had two elves that helped keep everything neat and tidy.
“Shall we go and sit in the library, perhaps?” I asked. “Somewhere more... neutral?”
