"Uh, I'm so sorry. The door was open," I explained.
"It's okay. Really, it's not like you haven't seen me like this before," he said, moving even closer but not stopping. I backed up until I was trapped against the sink. His eyes wouldn't leave mine.
I couldn't handle it any longer, so I looked away. He leaned in closer and I cleared my throat, breaking the tension.
"Uh, heh, you should, uhm," I started, interrupted by the view, "You should put some pants on," I ended. He stroked my cheek with his thumb which made me sigh and lean into his touch.
"Okay," he whispered.
"I hate it when you say that," I said frustrated.
"Okay," he said and walked away. I groaned.
"Hey," he said and turned to face me again. "You don't have to wash your clothes, there are some clothes in the guest room closet. Or you can stay in my shirt if you'd like. Either way works for me."
He turned away and walked again. "Trevor, why do you have women's clothes in the guest room?" He ignored me and kept walking. Oh, no you don't, Mr. Walker. I went after him and repeated the question. "Trevor, why do you have women's clothes in the guest room?"
"Just find something to wear, Amabel."
"You're not answering my question," I said, shaking my head.
"Just put some clothes on," he said, still with his back turned to me.
"Trevor?"
He flashed around and took my face in his hands and said, "You really need to put some clothes on. Whatever you're doing to me, stop. Because seeing you in just your underwear and my shirt is really turning me on." It was kind of like a warning. A dangerous whisper. And I held my breath and looked into his eyes. Wow, he wasn't kidding. Lust was shining in his eyes.
"Okay," I said, biting my lip to stop myself from gasping for air.
"Don't bite your lip," he said and brushed my lip down with his thumb.
"Okay," I whispered. He looked at my lips and pushed himself away from me. When he disappeared around the corner to go down the stairs, I could finally let out the breath I've been holding for what felt like forever.
I walked further down the hall to find the guest room. White walls, silk sheets, and thick bedcovers. Paris themed. Paris. Me and my mom's dream vacation.
I open the door to the walk-in closet and find women's clothing hanging neatly packed, shoes on their boxes and a white leather seat in the middle. He wasn't kidding. Even cute dresses. One short dress, in particular, captured my attention. I strolled toward it, wondering if I'm really going to wear these clothes.
You really need to put some clothes on. Whatever you're doing to me, stop. Because seeing you in just your underwear and my shirt is really turning me on.
I picked out the dress from the hanger and saw a price tag. Holy shit! Two thousand dollars! For one dress! That's ridiculous. I put the dress back and saw some jeans. I pick out navy blue jeans and find a closet with beautiful tops. There were blue, purple, green, mustard, red, and white-colored tops. I picked the purple.
I got out of the closet and went to the bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror above the sink and noticed drawers underneath the sink. Lace and silk underwear. Just what I needed.
I got in the shower, washed my hair and let the hot water do the rest. When I got out I brushed my teeth and got dressed. I dried my hair and went downstairs. Before reaching the stairs something called me back.
Wait!
Why is there a closet in the guest room filled with expensive women's clothes? Why were there underwear in the bathroom drawers? Why are these clothes exactly my size? I turned around and went back to the walk-in closet.
The far end had shoes. Heels... That's a no. Pumps... That could work. Sneakers... My favorite. Yes! I took out the white pair because there was no other color.
What the fuck! All these shoes, the clothes, the dresses, the underwear, everything is exactly my size...
I'm probably not the first woman to wear these clothes. That's disgusting!
I walked down the stairs and saw Trevor sitting on one of the barstools by the counter of the kitchen. Rena served us some pancakes with whipped cream and strawberries. That looks so good. And a wonderful cup of tea waited for me.
I took a seat next to Trevor and kept quiet. "Thank you, Rena," I said and smiled at her.
"You're welcome, Miss," she said. That's okay. If it makes her feel more comfortable, then she can call me Miss. This is just as strange for me. I really want to call her Mrs. Novikov.
"Mrs. Novikov, what kind of tea is this?"
"Cranberry and pomegranate, Miss."
"It's delicious. Thank you, I think it's my new favorite tea." A big smile appeared on her face. She has a beautiful smile.
Then she disappeared, leaving me and Trevor alone with our breakfast. "Enjoyed your shower?" he asked. I knew silence made him awkward.
"Mmmhmm," I said. Well, mumbled.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
I avoided his eyes. "Mmhmm," I answered.
"Okay," he said. I hate that word! And he knows it. Okay, I see what's going on here. He's doing to me what I'm doing to him. Well played Walker...
If I avoided him long enough, he would crack... and then he did.
"Are you sure you're okay?" What is that in his voice? Concern?
"Why is the guest room filled with women's clothes? Have other women been living here? Wearing those clothes? Because that's just so -"
He rushed up from his seat and turned me around on the barstool so that he was standing with his legs over mine. He took my face in his hands and brushed my cheek. What is it with him and brushing my cheek?
"No, other women haven't been living here. No one has worn these clothes. I bought them. I bought them for you, Amabel."
"What? Why?"
He sighed hard and looked down. "You need to know that whenever or wherever I find you, you'll be coming home with me. And I want you to be in comfortable clothes when you find yourself waking up, here," he said quietly.
I cannot believe what he is saying. I looked down and then he lifted my chin to look him in the eyes. "Have dinner with me," he said.
When is he going to realize that we can't be together as long as I'm working for his father? No one is going to let me do my job and finish college like his father. I need the money. I can't tell him that.