Page 74 of Five Days in July

She nods.

“You sure?” I don’t want her to rush into something like this before she’s ready.

“Yeah.” She doesn’t sound sure. I watch her carefully, trying to judge how she’s feeling.

She straightens up, shakes off her nerves, and looks me straight in the eye. “Yes, I’m sure.”

“Are you still trying to get me out of my clothes?”

Snickering, she calls out, “Maybe.” And dashes up the stairs.

I can’t resist. I nod and grab my duffle where I left it in the kitchen. I hear giggling and then a light splash, reassuring me that although she may be nervous, she’s not scared of me.

Wondering what she’s up to, I slowly climb up the stairs.

I walk toward the bathroom door and push it open slowly, not wanting to surprise her. She’s in the tub and must have dropped in one of those bath bombs or put in bubble bath because the whole room smells like flowers. The water is tinted pink and completely foamed over with bubbles.

Tricky girl.

She’s grinning at me like she’s outwitted a chess master or waiting for something else to happen.

I smile mischievously. “Are you wanting a show?”

She cocks her head to the side in curiosity. “I’ve never been to a strip club.”

My back snaps ramrod straight, and I stare at her. “Jesus, woman. Don’t go.” There’s a stern command in my voice brought out by jealousy.

She keeps a straight face for a few beats before bursting into laughter. She slips down a little further into the tub, and the back of her hair just brushes the water’s surface. “You walked right into that one.”

“You’re an evil woman.” I laugh and set my duffle on the counter, relieved that she’s joking and teasing.

“I couldn’t help myself.” She’s still chuckling behind me.

“Matt?” She sounds unsure again, and I turn to face her, wanting to make sure she’s still comfortable with this idea.

“If we do this.” She waves a hand between us. “It’s exclusive, right?”

“Yes.” My answer is sure and quick.

“And you won’t lie to me? Or,” she swallows deeply, “you’ll always be honest, right?”

“Always.” My voice is lower, lust riding me hard, but I keep it in check.

“Okay.”

“Okay. . .?” I can’t help asking for clarification.

“Okay, we’re doing this.” She smiles shyly and sinks lower into the water so the thick layer of bubbles sticks to her chin. “And I wasn’t totally kidding before. I’ve never watched a man undress.”

There’s the jealousy and possessiveness again.

“It’s okay with you”—I tug on my shirt—“me doing this in here? I can wait until you’re done or step in the shower stall.”

“It’s okay with me, Matt.” There’s something in her tone that makes it feel like an understatement.

I unzip the duffle and take out the dress pants I packed. They’re still on the hanger, so I hook them over the back of the door. Hopefully, the steam from the bath and shower will help relax the creases. Next, I pull out a dress shirt and tie, also on a hanger, and hang them next to the pants.

“Now I don’t feel so bad.”