My hands balled up. Hadn't it been enough for one night? That thread between us that had felt so comforting earlier threatened to strangle me now. Anger fueled my turn. I would have welcomed a corresponding anger in him, but the naked longing on his face and the defeat in the slope of his shoulders undid me. That and his sincere, "I love watching you dance."
The hallway was empty but it suddenly felt hard to breathe.
He held out a hand.
I leaned back. The magnetic push/pull between us demanded a certain distance, a certain resistance, as much as attraction. Wrung out on every level, I couldn't afford to let Mr. Force-of-Nature Mitra take advantage of my weakened boundaries to redefine our hook-ups into whatever vision he had of them.
The air conditioning kicked in and I wrapped my arms around myself.
"When you see my shower, you'll thank me." He scrunched up his face, a lock of hair falling boyishly over his eyes. "Nothing happens. Just sleep."
I wasn't sure if that sweetened the offer or not, but I nodded.
We rode in silence up to his floor. A hushed bubble that continued to encapsulate us as we entered his dark suite. Rohan snapped on a light, dimming the brightness down to a more tolerable level. "Want me to start the shower?"
I reached around to the back of my dress and tugged on the zipper. It didn't budge. I grasped the fabric on either side with one hand and tried again. "Help."
He stood behind me. Not touching me at first.
My heart hammered in my throat. I lifted my hair off my neck.
He rested his hands on my dress but it was only to try the zipper. "How attached are you to this?" He ran a finger between the top and my skin. "I might have to rip it."
I swallowed. "Do what you need to." One of his finger blades pressed against me through the thin cloth and then the dress fell open as he cut the zipper away. Tiny goosebumps dotted my skin, cool air rushing against my back. My sweat had gotten to the clammy stage and I really wanted that shower. Really wanted to sleep.
Neither desire was enough to get me moving, my every nerve tensed in anticipation. The yawning nothing that happened as we both stood there was a much better incentive. I dropped my hair, twisting around. "Thanks."
Rohan gripped my hips, keeping me still. With the lightest touch, he hooked his fingers under my straps, sliding them off my shoulders.
My lids shivered closed, my heart practically straining out of my chest waiting for his next move, but there was just the feel of his hands clasping my forearms and his warm exhalations against the back of my neck.
"I'll run the shower." His voice was strained, shaky, but by the time I caught his arm, he was back to his usual level of control.
I let go. "Make it hot."
I stepped out of my dress and under the spray. Another outfit ruined. Oh, well. I sighed in bliss, letting the heat ease my sore muscles. I must have stayed under the water for a good half hour. It took a while to wash the body paint off. Longer than that for my head to clear.
Clean and wrinkled, I stepped onto the bath mat with shaking legs, wrapping a towel around me. Either steam now choked the room or the remnants of the E in my system had turned the world hazy. Spying Rohan's cologne on the counter next to his black toiletries bag, I cracked the cap and sniffed it.
Rohan rapped on the door and I hastily and silently slid the bottle back where I'd found it.
"Do you want a robe?" he asked.
Yes, since I had nothing else to wear right now. I cracked the door, taking the fluffy terry cloth robe from him. I tightened the belt so it was the cloth, and not Rohan's presence wrapped around me, then I stepped into the adjoining bedroom in a billowing cloud of steam, my damp towel in hand. "Should I leave this in the bathroom?"
Rohan had stripped down to boxer shorts and a clean T-shirt. He took the towel from me, going into the bathroom to toss it on the counter. When he returned, he held a dry towel. "Sit." He motioned to the bed. The king-sized bed. Thick and plush, it was piled with cozy blankets, long pillows, and an obscene thread count that I itched to mess up.
I sat down on the edge, smoothing a hand over the pillowcase.
Rohan nudged me into the middle of the mattress then sat down behind me and proceeded to dry my hair. He twisted strands between the towel folds, gently yet briskly drawing off excess moisture. His ministrations slowed, his fingertips massaging my scalp.
I pressed backward into his palms. My hands rested on his calves, his legs splayed out on either side of me. The light dusting of his calf hair was scratchy under my fingers. "How come you never mentioned you provided this service?"
"It's only available to a select clientele," he joked.
Like Lily? "We chosen few appreciate it." I yawned.