She pushed away from the door and took stock of the beautiful bathroom. Six of her apartment bathrooms could fit in the space. White quartz counters and sinks shone, sparkling clean. A large bathtub invited the guest to fill it full of warm water, bath salts and oils. Bypassing the tub, Emily walked to the shower, turned on the faucet and waited for the water to warm.
Her hands shook as she stripped out of her wet clothing and dropped the garments to the smooth, tiled floor.
When the water was warmer than her skin, she stepped beneath it and let it run over her head, shoulders and the length of her body. As the heat chased away the chills, she squirted a liberal amount of shampoo into her palm and smoothed it over her hair, digging her fingers in, determined to wash away the smell of stagnant water.
Emily leaned her head back, closed her eyes and let the water sluice over her. As the soap bubbles slid down over her breasts, a sudden image intruded on her thoughts. An erotic scene, completely at odds with the suspenseful one she’d just lived through. Maybe it was a coping mechanism, but she couldn’t get the thought out of her head. One of Mustang rubbing his hands together to create lather and smoothing them all over her body.
Shocked by her own imagination, Emily opened her eyes and took in a deep, steadying breath. She had to be having some kind of post-traumatic lust for the man who’d saved her. She didn’t know Mustang from Adam. He could be married, for all she knew. Her heart pounded against her ribs. She could be having lustful thoughts over a married man.
Grabbing the bottle of body wash, she completed her shower in record time, scrubbing every inch of her skin to remove traces of mud and ditch water.
When she emerged from the shower, she found a neat stack of clothing on the counter and a fluffy white towel.
She smiled at Grace’s thoughtfulness.
Her lips turned down as she dressed. How could she face Mustang when she’d just been thinking about him naked?
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