"You're naked" was the first thing I managed to say.
Honestly, keeping my eyes from wandering south was taking all of my brain power. Just perceiving that his torso was also covered in tattoos was enough to drive me mad.
My momentary stupidity seemed to amuse him, as a slight grin replaced his shocked expression. "That's a very perspicacious observation."
He made no move whatsoever to cover himself or to twist into an angle where I wouldn't see everything. Was this payback for the way I'd exposed myself to him? It was so much worse than what I'd done.
"I take it you had the same idea as me?" he asked, gesturing at the space surrounding him.
Finally, I looked away, setting my eyes on the paneled surface of a wall. "Yes. But I didn't think you'd be in there, naked."
"It's just a body, Mila. You don't have to be so mortified."
Mortified wasn't what I was. Horny was what I was.
"Well, I'm American, not Scandinavian, remember? 'Just a body' is a lot for us Puritan folks."
He chuckled, and even looking away as I was, I guessed at the way his abs flexed with it. Fuck me...
"My towel is hanging out there; you can hand it to me if it makes you more comfortable."
His offer took me by surprise, so I accidentally gazed his way again. Look up, look up! "I— Uuh..."
I didn't want to be in there with him, all naked and dashing, even with a towel to cover himself. Honestly, I would rather go grab my stuff, head upstairs again, and brainwash myself into forgetting the image of naked him. Well, I hadn't actually gotten the full image.
No! Up, up, up!
"Do or don't Mila, but decide. You're letting all the steam out."
My mind was torn into three possibilities that all held the same weight. Part one wanted to back away, close the door, and leave. Part two wanted to grab his towel, step inside, close the door behind me, and sit down. And then part three wanted to just dismiss the towel altogether and sit.
It seemed I was taking too long to pick one of those, because, before I knew it, he was pushing his tall, broad, and naked body up. When he walked my way, I inhaled at once, my breath so sharp it was almost a gasp. Robbed of the little control I had, my eyes dropped on their own to the dangling appendage taunting me, guided by the deep V at his hips.
My gaze remained on his private parts for only a split second, but it was enough to engrave the sight into my brain. Definitely enough for me to notice that his considerable length — even resting as it was—was uncut. Gosh, of course the man manscaped and took care of himself. He was sex on a stick, and once more, every aspect of him was as though carefully engineered to have me drop on my knees and beg for him to take me endlessly.
I was still standing in the doorway, so when he reached for something out there, he was right next to me, his nakedness almost pressing on my thin robe. He pulled back a little when he'd grabbed what he needed, and then planted his eyes into mine, looking down with a heat that had nothing to do with the sauna's workings.
"Do you want in, or out, Mila?" he asked, so damn near he could probably hear the hectic beats of my heart. Behind me, the panel of the door came to touch my back, startling me.
"In... I want in..."
"Good."
The door was pressed harder onto me as he pulled on it to close it, to keep the warmth and the steam inside. Helpless, I took a step farther inside so he could, which resulted in our bodies officially meeting, my covered front plastered on his bare one.
YOU ARE READING
The Collector | 18+
RomanceFollowing a massive discovery at work, Mila, a brilliant historian, finds herself tangled up with a dashing collector, Ulrik, who quickly seems to want more from her than an antique and mysterious Viking sword. Season 1 of The Collector ...
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