Camilla was shaking now at the possibilities Grace was stirring with her words, or maybe it really was hypothermia. But hypothermia didn’t create a storm of heat and need in her the way thoughts of Ben and Quinten were doing at the moment. She kept talking, trying to convince herself, secretly hoping Grace would exhaust all the arguments she’d been repeating to herself like a mantra for the last year.
“The entanglements would just complicate everything. I need to maintain a business relationship with them. Ben and Quinten have already shown signs of being territorial, and when it all goes south, I won’t have that business relationship to rely on.”
“What if it doesn’t all go south? What if you have something more in the end? And why do you suppose they’re territorial? Do you think that’s because they don’t want you?”
“Well, when you put it that way…”
“Get your precious little frozen tush in the tub and I’ll talk to you in the morning.”
“I’m taking a shower.”
“Are you crazy? You’re not trying out that gigantic—never mind. Get in the shower.”
“What were you about to say? Gigantic what? Have you been over to their place, Grace?”
“Um…yeah. With the guys…for a football game. Yeah. Get in the shower and I’ll talk to you later. Gotta go! Bye!” Camilla made a face at the phone when she heard Grace giggle before the call disconnected, and she put the phone on the counter.
The bathroom was steaming up nicely as she stripped her clothes off, wondering if Grace hadn’t somehow set her up after all. The matchmaker. She caught a glimpse of her nude body in the mirror and cringed. She was pale, and her skin was blotchy and red where she’d been exposed to the elements.
Three miles in late October in a soaking downpour? In short-shorts and a top that was little more than a bra. The Windbreaker might as well have been at home too, for all the good it did. What were you thinking?
A shudder and heartfelt moan escaped her as she stepped into the shower and closed the glass door. The water felt so good. She stood under the heavy spray coming from the broad showerhead and eventually noticed the other lever located by the faucet, labeled “steam.” She stood stock-still as jets located in the walls of the shower produced a fine hot mist.
I’m in heaven.
Her fingers were pruney when she finally picked up the bottle of bodywash and the puff hanging from the faucet handle. She paused and sniffed at the puff.
Has another woman used this shower recently, or do men use these puffs too?
She satisfied herself that it smelled new and looked unused and poured bodywash on it, in no position to complain. The fragrance that was part of Ben’s natural scent filled the steamy enclosure, and Camilla moaned softly. Closing her eyes, she fantasized that she was surrounded by him. As she shifted and stroked the soapy puff along her inner thighs, she noticed that her labia had swelled. It wasn’t any wonder, with his scent filling her senses the way it did. The puff teased her clit as she lightly stroked those delicate tissues a little longer than was necessary to get clean.
She was startled from her erotic reverie when a knock came at the bathroom door. “Camilla? You okay?” Quinten’s velvety tone served as fuel for her fantasies.
“Oh—yes, I’m fine.”
“You’ve got it steamy enough in here. Feeling better?”
Soooo much better, baby. “Yes, I’ll be out in just a few minutes.”
“I figured your clothing was soaked and muddy, so I put a T-shirt and some sweatpants on the bed. Do you have everything you need?”
No, not quite. Would you join me? “Yes, thank you, Quinten. I’ll be out in a sec.”
“Take your time.”
Left alone, Camilla lost the edge of the fantasy which competed with the reality of what lay beyond the bathroom door. Grace asked what was the worst that could happen. Barring losing her job for some unknown reason, she was currently living a worst-case scenario of sorts. She was at odds with Ben and Quinten, or had been, and wanted to fix it. And maybe part of her wanted to see where the night would lead. She turned off the water and pulled a towel from the bar outside the shower.
Once she was dry, she toweled her hair. After searching the mostly empty drawers in the vanity, she located a brush and made use of it as she looked around the bathroom with appreciation. It was a fantasy come to life and must’ve been part of the renovations that Ben and Quinten had mentioned.
She peeked out of the bathroom door to find the bedroom door closed, allowing her privacy. She strode to the bed, wondering at her attack of modesty as she clutched the towel around her. In her own home, she walked around naked all the time, comfortable in her skin. She dropped the towel and looked at her reflection in the tall mirror that stood in a beautiful wooden frame beside the bed, next to a pair of French doors that led out onto a dimly lit deck area.