Page 62 of CHOICE Lover
He steps out wearing only a towel. She has to cough to keep from choking. Holy Mother of all that is holy, his physique matches his face. He’s a Greek god. Adonis or Michelangelo’s David or worse!
“Yes?” he asks.
Her gaze travels across his flushed skin, and lower to where the towel hangs precariously.Bad idea, Electra!“I thought you said you weren’t sleeping with her!”Oh God, why did you say that? You’re not jealous. You can’t be—that’s Chryl’s thing!
He smirks as if he can read her thoughts. “I did a quick workout while you were on your tablet, so I had a shower. Is that a problem?”
Okay, so her workout assumption was correct. Still, her cheeks heat. “No. Feel free to get dressed.”In front of Chryl, who doesn’t matter because she’s not a real person. Who cares if she sees him naked? This is what he’s used to.He’s not you and doesn’t have your modesty or interpersonal conventions.
“Electra, what did you need to have a word with me about?” he asks, not budging.
When she forces herself to meet his eyes, she finds mirth dancing in their golden depths. She lifts the tablet and holds it between them as if it might somehow substitute for words. But she sees the image that irritated her in the first place, and suddenly the libertine standing in front of her isn’t so perfect. She clears her throat. “Looks like your girlfriend got a picture of us. Have your sales figures gone up like you expected?”
His eyes narrow. He takes the tablet, scanning the FrogBlog entry. “She must have followed us and got the picture. You look good, at least.”
“Res6, I don’t care if I look good or not. That isn’t what I’m upset about.” Maybe she’s the stupid one for even trying to bring this up to him; he didn’t even deny the girlfriend bit or sleeping with Chryl.
Apparently, he’s decided silence is his best approach, as he only stands there with his brows raised, waiting for her to speak.
“I don’t enjoy being your advertisement,” she says.
“But we agreed to a few public outings as a part of our bargain.”
“I know, but I changed my mind. Seeing this”—she points to the image—“makes me feel cheap. Like I’m some automation—number one of two—on your arm. For your pleasure.”
He scoffs. “This is decidedly not for my pleasure.”
“Look at what people are saying. They’re fawning over you and your two manupartners like you’re some type of sex god. It’s unreal.”
“Electra,” he soothes, the corner of his mouth twitching like he’s trying to repress a grin. “I hear your concerns, but I didn’t arrange that. Because of my status in the municipality, people will photograph us. It is inevitable. The only way to avoid it is to hide out in this unit, which is not advisable, as we’ve already determined. I don’t deny that I appreciate the advertising potential—”
“At least there’ssomethingyou’re not denying!” She snatches the tablet out of his hands and turns to march into her room.
He inhales sharply. “Oh Zorg, are you jealous?”
Wildly!her traitorous inner narrator shouts. She freezes. “No.”
His voice is closer as he says, “I didn’t sleep with that woman or Chryl, and it’s been years since I last had a manupartner.”
Her heart thumps wildly in her chest. “Years? Why?”
She can feel the heat of him at her back. So close—too close. Mother Mary save her, he’s in a towel. She grasps the tablet tighter to keep her hands from doing anything foolish.
Without even the faintest touch, he leans down and says, “I got bored,” right into her ear.
The low gravel of his voice sends a shiver up her spine. Seconds go by. When she finally builds up the nerve to do something stupid like kiss him again, the door to his room clicks shut. Did she wait too long to make a move?
She glances over her shoulder to find the space he just occupied vacant, leaving her alone with her throbbing . . . She swallows, trying and failing to ignore the sparkling sensations coursingthrough her. Giddy, humming, and delicious sensations she hasn’t felt since waking up in the future. Like she’s only now become fully activated.
She was so angry moments ago. He even accused her of being jealous, which is completely ridiculous.He got bored. God, and the breathy way he said it. Especially after his lakeside confession—well, the implications are intriguing. She slips inside her bedroom, needing to extinguish this feeling before it gets any worse. More likequench it.
Would it make her a hypocrite if she were to lie down on the bed and slip a hand beneath her waistband to see what he did to her? Just as a sort of measuring stick to see if she’s really alive. She sets the tablet on the nightstand and dims the lights. Maybe not a hypocrite exactly. The bed creaks as she crawls onto it and lies back. Definitely not a hypocrite. She’s only human, after all.
November 5, 2390.
Today is going to be the day. There will be messages in my inbox. My column will take off.
Wearing a forced smile, Electra opens the FrogBlog app. Her heart skips. There’s a message. She taps her inbox.
