She follows and stands at the door as I pull my dress shirt off, letting it drop to the floor. Then I take off my belt and let it drop on top of my shirt. I turn to face her and let my trousers fall to my ankles, kicking them off so they join the pile before I walk to the shower, turn it on, and step under the hot spray.
“I’m not going to lie and say that’s not an issue.” She bites her lip as I soap my body, and she watches from her position at the door. “Do you care that I see you naked?” she asks.
“No, you’ve seen me before and touched me several times,” I tell her. Putting my face under the water, I rinse everything off before I pull back out and note she still hasn’t moved. Turning the faucet to the off position, I step out, reach for a towel, and wrap it around myself before I walk over to her.
Her eyes travel the length of my torso before they land on my eyes. “Would you do something for me to help me remember?” she asks, but her voice is strained and unsure, so she purses her lips.
“What?”
Her eyes dart away, then lock back on mine. “Would you have sex with me?”
Did she just ask me to have sex with her?
“I’m feeling fine. Nothing down there is broken. And, well…” she bites her bottom lip, tempting me even further, “… it might help bring back an old memory.”
“You shouldn’t offer a thirsty man water, mia per sempre.”
Chanel’s eyes dance up to mine, and her body goes rigid. “Why do you call me that?” Her eyes fall to the tattoo on my chest. “That’s what that says. Why would you call me that? You’ve said it multiple times, and I don’t understand,” she asks again.
“It’s late. You should go to bed.” I go to leave the bathroom, but she stops me, her hand going to my chest where her tattoo is located as she looks up at me.
“Did you love me?” she asks, so casually, as if it’s nothing. “I mean, I’m here and you’re looking after me, so I’ve been thinking maybe you loved me. Is that it?”
“I do not love you,” I tell her honestly.
Her hand drops like I just burned her, and she takes a step away from me.
“I’m fucking consumed by you. Love is a shallow word for how I feel. It’s not even a word that deserves a place in what we are.”
Her hand goes to reach for me again, but she drops it, shocked by my words. “Did I love you?” she asks.
“You hated me at the end, so no, I don’t think so.”
“Okay.” She turns and walks to the bed, then sits on the edge and kicks off her shoes before removing her shirt, exposing a lacy bra. “Will you at least touch me?”
My cock strains against the towel, and her eyes trail down my torso to the bulging lump forming right in front of her eyes. She knows what she’s doing to me and reaches for the waistband of her skirt before she scoots it down to the floor at the end of the bed where she’s seated.
“You don’t know what you’re asking,” I tell her gruffly, my voice taking on a huskier tone.
“I’m fine. The doctors even said I am. It’s just a matter of time if my memory comes back or it doesn’t. Do you not want to help me remember?” she asks, now basically naked on my bed.
Fuck! Do you know how much, over the years, I have dreamed of this moment?
What I would do if I had this woman back in my bed.
“You’ll hate me if I do. And you do remember,” I try to convince her. But let’s be real, I’m trying to convince myself as well.
“Lucas,” she calls.
“Hmm.” My gaze is on her tits, those perfect round tits that I’ve missed so damn much.
“Would you hurry up and touch me, please?”
Please? So different from her usual old demands. I like both sides of her, and now I am wondering which one I will get to keep.
“Please,” I repeat her word.
I step over, she lifts a hand, and reaches for mine, then places it on her tits along with the other one so both are touching her. Her hands cover mine for a heartbeat before she drops them, leaving me standing there with my hands full of tits.