Love and Other Bugs

8: Brunch

"Silas! What are you doing?" I gasped as I turned towards him, quick to pull my startled gaze from the obvious and sizable bulge in his jeans. This was definitely new.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Mrs. Foster," He eyed my blushing face, his expression unabashed, "I expect Ms. Marlowe will be arriving soon, do you have a preference in what you would like me to prepare for lunch?"

"Shit." I had completely forgotten about my Wednesday lunch with Lorraine, "No, make whatever." I said to the ceiling.

"Yes, Mrs. Foster." He turned to leave, his gait measured and casual as if he wasn't sporting a blatant erection.

I couldn't let him walk around like that, I wasn't sure how long it would last.

"Silas!"

As he stopped walking away, I realized I had no idea how to turn it off, and it was not something I was brave enough to ask him about. His expectant gaze landed on me.

"Could you start the shower for me?" My futile attempt at changing the subject was, I determined, a step in the wrong direction. The last thing I needed was for him to catch a glimpse of me naked.

"Yes of course, Mrs. Foster."

I held my breath until he disappeared down the hallway, explicitly forbidding my brain to linger on the impressive length and girth of his bulge. My gut twisted at the discernment that I would now be forced to ask Lorraine how to turn it off. Which would, in turn, clue her in to the fact that he was currently on.

I would maintain that it was an accident, but I could already see the smug look on her face as she winked at me, "Yeah, I'm sure it was."

"Your shower is ready, Mrs. Foster." Silas popped back into view, "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

I clenched at the suggestive tone I was sure only existed in my mind, "No, thank you." I brushed past him and hurried towards my bedroom, "I just need a minute to myself."

I did my best thinking in the shower. The hot water and steam put my body at ease and allowed my mind to wander. Today, the last thing I needed was a wandering mind, but it felt nice to be alone with my thoughts. As if the shower walls protected me from the mind-reading I was otherwise susceptible to. In this warm, white womb, I was safe.

I'd expended so much of my energy actively trying not to think of Silas, or rather, his body. The way his skin would feel against the palm of my hand if I ran it down his chest. The way his fingers might taste if he pressed one against my tongue.

"They're just fantasies, I would never act on them." I attempted to comfort myself, but the longer I stood under the stifling stream of the shower head, the dirtier I felt.

I attempted to replace my impure thoughts with memories of Eric, imagining him naked, struggling to remember the last time we'd had sex. I knew how he felt, how he tasted, and I loved him. So why was it so easy for someone, no something to consume my attention?

"Mrs. Foster?" Silas knocked and cracked the bathroom door open, a cold rush of air filtering through the curtain that divided us, "Ms. Marlowe has just arrived. Would you like for me to pull together something for you to wear?"

"Sure, just my casual-wear please." My body had gone rigid. I held my breath as he gathered my clothes from the floor, feeling newly exposed at the thought of him touching my underwear. He did this every day, and never before had I envisioned he might pull back the curtain to look at me, until this very moment. The idea of it captivated me, and I was unsure whether I was anxious or eager.

"Yes, Mrs. Foster. Should I let Ms. Marlowe know you may be a few minutes longer?"

"No, I'll get out now." I reached back to turn off the water.