I stepped out of the shower and reached
for the lone towel I kept in the rarely used bathroom. Wrapping it around
myself, I realized I didn’t have any clothes with me. That meant I had to make
a run for it.
Knowing my luck, I’d fall face first on
the stairs.
Opening the bathroom door, I didn’t
bother to look around - I just made a mad dash for the stairs. Halfway up, I
heard a laughing Mace yell, “I’ve seen it before, baby, I’ve licked and tasted
every inch of your perfect ass. Run all you like. I’ll catch you again.”
I had no doubt he’d try his damndest to
do just that either.
Stomping my way back downstairs after I
dressed in my ugliest Pyjamas - hopefully turning Mace off - I heard the shower
running; Mace was in the shower and I’d used the only towel in the bathroom,
shit.
I ran upstairs as fast as I could to
grab one. Apparently, I wasn’t fast enough, because as I rounded the corner, he
was walking toward the kitchen wearing nothing but a smirk. The pile of towels
I had been holding dropped to the floor. My jaw slack, my eyes followed his
very naked, very firm ass as he casually strolled to the fridge, opened it and
pulled out a beer. Turning as he popped the cap, he cocked an eyebrow and asked,
“You want one, babe?”.
Void of all coherent thought, I stood
there, gaping like a fish out of water.
“I’ll take that as a no then.” He
scratched his chest and strolled by, dropping a kiss on my forehead as he
passed. “Love them P.Js. Love to take ‘em off too, but I’ve gotta get some shut
eye. Night, babe.” Mace flopped down on the couch and got himself comfortable.
Forgetting about the discarded towel, I
took my scattered brain and my P.J’s directly up to bed without a word. What
the hell was a woman supposed to say to that?
