I decide it’s probably wise to keep my mouth shut before I clue him in on any more of the silly thoughts that are stinging me like a swarm of jellyfish. Repeatedly. Over and over. Relentlessly. Ouch. ‘Yes.’
‘Good.’ He lands a chaste, almost loving kiss, slap bang on my lips, biting down gently before he pulls away, dragging my bottom lip with him. He grins and releases, then rolls over swiftly and sends me cross-eyed when he stands slowly above me, like Poseidon breaking the waves of the sea and rising. He looks glorious. Powerful and strong. Lickable. Edible.
‘Make yourself comfy. I’m going to use the bathroom.’ He makes to turn but pauses, pouting his lips. ‘You haven’t seen my arse naked yet, have you?’
Becker’s observation serves as a trigger and has me propping myself up on my elbows, interested, and likely to explode with delight when I get to see it. His arse. Bare. ‘Nooooo.’ I drag the word out for ever, dropping my eyes to his crotch, seeing straight past the beauty of his cock and imagining the beauty of his lovely arse. I’ve felt it naked. I’ve squeezed it. And it felt pretty damn good. I’m chewing the inside of my lip when I muster up the willpower to drag my eyes away.
His lip has curved at one corner. ‘Enjoy,’ he says brazenly, cockily and, with 100 per cent confidence that I will, he turns and wanders away.
Oh my, I do. My head tilts to the side in admiration, my lip worrying through my teeth as I fall into a trance. My eyes struggle to decide what to look at. His incredible arse, or that magnificent tattoo spanning his strong back. Surprisingly, given my love of his arse, my eyes fix on his back and that colossal tattoo. I squint, trying to figure out all the lines and shadows in the dim light, but he disappears into the bathroom before I can zoom in. I pout to myself and spend a few minutes getting my heartbeats back to a safe pace.
Injecting some life into my legs, I rise to my feet and glance around, wondering where I should make myself comfy. It’s also an opportunity for me to take in the space. The greys and blacks are a common theme, even on the ceiling. If it wasn’t for the tiny spotlights sprinkling the space in a dust of hazy light, it would be pitch black.
The area is small but perfectly equipped. It’s an open-plan space with a zone sectioned off by a huge bookshelf serving as a room divider that distinguishes the bedroom from the rest of Becker’s apartment. There’s a kitchen, small but functional, and two oversized corner couches positioned to form a U-shape facing a colossal flat-screen TV that takes up most of one wall. Grey rugs are scattered, softening the feel of the sparkling marble floor and adding much-needed warmth. The Juliet balconies that can be seen from the courtyard are here, and I have a distinct memory of staring up at them on the first day I arrived at The Haven, wishing I could swing them open and stand in the morning sun.
I smile to myself, casting my eyes across the space to where Becker just disappeared. The bathroom walls are built with thick glass bricks, the light from inside basking the space in a soft glow. Wandering over to the bookshelf that separates the bedroom, I trail my eyes across the rows and rows of books, noting that many are biographies on various artists. I smile when I spot one on Michelangelo and pull the book from the shelf.
‘Your arse is glowing.’
I turn and find Becker standing in the doorway of his bathroom, his shoulder resting against the frame, still naked. Gloriously naked. ‘It’s also tender.’ There’s no resentment in my statement. Quite the opposite, in fact. It feels warm and comforting, a reminder that he was there. A bit like between my thighs. I flick through the book casually, but snap it shut when something comes to me. ‘The police,’ I say, sliding the book back on to the shelf. ‘I need to call them. Mind if I use your phone? You know, since I don’t have one at the moment. Because someone destroyed it.’
His scowl is playful. ‘I’ve called them already.’
‘Oh. Shouldn’t I have done that?’
‘Well, you don’t have a phone.’ He shrugs, and I still get no