“I’m good.” The words came as a squeak.
“Give me fifteen minutes, and then I’ll start breakfast.”
“Okay.” Definitely a squeak.
As he padded away, Gemma exhaled and flopped onto the pillow. Her body still burned with that dream, as her brain whispered she should return to it… and do whatever was necessary to alleviate that particular ache. After all, Mason was in the shower for the next fifteen minutes. No chance he’d knock on the door or hear a stray gasp—
The water started up. Right beside her wall.
Mason was having a shower on the other side of her bedroom wall. Mason, presumably naked, because that’s how people showered. Mason, lathering up and—
Fuck!
Oh, one bathroom is fine. It has a lock. It’s not as if I’ll need to listen to him shower, which leads topicturinghim showering literally two feet away.
It’s fine. It’s all fine. Just ignore—
A soft groan from the other side of the wall. No, notthatkind of groan, just the sound you make stretching out stiff muscles. Which Mason would have. Lots of muscles. Very stiff—
Stop.
Then it did stop. The water, that is. She frowned. He’d only had time to get wet and—
The sound of lathering. How the hell did youhearthe sound of lathering? Well, she did. The swish of soapy hands over skin. The soft groan of pleasure as he stretched those stiff muscles. The slap of the washcloth, sending a tingle through her, tongue darting between her teeth as she imagined that wet washcloth slapping—
Jesus. How did a guy make showering sound dirty?
No, that was her. Mason was just innocently bathing, and she was perving on him from the next room. She didn’t even need to see him to make her breath come faster. Didn’t need to see him in that huge shower, big enough for two, Mason Moretti, naked and—
Gemma sat up.
She swung her legs out of bed and caught a glimpse of herself, her color high, her pupils huge, the look of a sex-starved woman with a smoking hot guy showering on the other side of the wall.
She rubbed her face and checked again. Nope, she still looked like she’d been caught watching porn.
Time to, uh, empty her luggage. That was it. She’d unpack and dress and take her time getting ready. Oh, look, her room had a balcony. She opened the door and let the cool morning breeze waft in. There, that would help.
You know what would help a lot more?
Not an option. At least, not while Mason was on the other side of that very thin wall.
Unpack her clothes, cool down, and get ready for a day of writing.
By the time Gemma left her room, Mason was in the kitchen. She considered having a shower herself, but getting naked under steaming water would only revive the problem.
Coffee now, shower later.
She walked into the kitchen and stopped. Holy shit, was he trying to kill her?
Mason worked at the counter with his back to her… while wearing only swimming trunks. His bare torso still glowed from his shower. Damp hair. A sliver of beard shadow visible when he turned to reach for the bag of coffee beans.
Something sizzled on the stove, but she made her way straight for Mason. Because he was in front of the coffee maker, that’s all.
He turned to her. “Figured I’d go for a swim after breakfast, so I just pulled on my trunks. That’s okay?”
Okay… She rolled the word around as she looked at him, wearing only swim trunks, completely naked except for those trunks, which were not exactly baggy, and showed off just enough definition to—
She jerked her gaze up so fast she risked whiplash.
