I don’t want to do it, but he’s so damn tall, I’m too far from the ground. Though he holds me steadily, with no hint that my weight is of consequence to him, I can imagine falling to the floor, and I don’t want to. So, I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders, flushing. It’s the rational thing to do. Attempting to get back to my feet would likely just end in my tumbling down and hurting myself.

The moment I’ve done it, I regret it.

I am naked. My bare breasts are right against his wet, sculpted chest. But Keller’s not even leering, acting like my nakedness is of no consequence. I suppose he’s seen it before.

He strides to the bathroom as I blush, both at the ridiculous position and his proximity.

I can’t stop myself from noticing things that shouldn’t register. He smells very good. Woodsy, spicy musk, some sort of a cool undertone evocative of winter. I’m looking down to avoid meeting his gaze, but it’s not helping. His muscles are downright absurd. It’s truly unfair that someone like him exists at all. If life were fair, he would at least have a microdick to make up for it. No such luck. My asshole can attest to it.

But we’re not talking about that. We’re pretending today’s normal, that nothing’s strange or wrong. He washed my skirt, drew a bath for me, and is now carrying me towards it like a princess, and we’re not addressing the elephant in the room.

Cool, cool.

The dark slate bathroom is gorgeous, with a free-standing claw foot tub right at its center. White foamy bubbles almost reach the top already. Smoothly, Keller lowers me into the warm, fragrant water, his face so very close I can no longer escape his eyes, fixed on me.

I can feel his breath against my lips. Can he tell how hard my heart’s beating?

But once I’m immersed, Keller stands up and turns on his heels.

“I’ll get your bag,” he announces, leaving me flushed and embarrassed and thoroughly angry at myself.

After what he did to me yesterday, I should loathe him, not look into his gorgeous, cold eyes and wish his mouth could get a little closer. What the hell is wrong with me?

Your problem is you liked it, a little voice whispers. You liked it, and you want more.

I lower my entire face under the surface of the water, willing myself to not think. If that’s what my brain can come up with, it needs to stop.

I am so fucking messed up. Especially since he’s no longer interested. I am completely naked, at his mercy, and he just left.