Chapter 7
Anson
A violent hisssss explodes as I tip a ladle of water over the rocks. "Too hot?" I ask over my shoulder.
"No. It's fine," Jarvis replies, his voice back to its usual, playful cadence after his accidental gaffe. "I could actually handle some more heat."
I smirk, even though he can't see it. "Alright then."
I splash some more water over the stones then quickly move away from the billowing steam to take my seat. My sauna has two wooden benches stacked like steps. I normally take the higher bench since it's hotter, but Jarvis has claimed that spot.
I sit on the lower bench, straighten my legs, and loosen my towel so it's not digging into my waist. He's resting in the same position.
This would be the perfect occasion to demonstrate some self-restraint, but that message seems to have gotten lost somewhere between my brain and my eyes, because I cannot stop gawking at him.
He's the most gorgeous person I've ever seen. Sweat beads along the curve of his neck, broad shoulders glisten under the heat, and his sturdy chest rises and falls so rhythmically it threatens to hypnotize me.
He's built big…and I like it.
I can't say I've ever been sexually attracted to a man in all my fifty-three years, but I am to Jarvis. Even though I know it's wrong, and nothing could ever come of it. Not because he's a man but because he's a young man. A full two decades younger, to be exact.
I've been around plenty of businessmen in my time who traded in their first wives for a younger model, and I've always carried a certain judgment about it. Love is meant to be a feeling, not another avenue for alpha posturing.
By my own logic, it automatically rules out exploring anything with Jarvis. Just because we're the same sex doesn't make it any less…icky. I may be far from perfect, but I refuse to prey on someone so much younger than me.
I'm wiping away some sweat from my chest when I notice Jarvis's eyes on me. His tongue darts out, licking his lower lip.
"Something wrong?" I ask.
He jolts, like he's just remembered where he is. "Uh, what, no. I'm-I'm… I was just…" He releases a long sigh. "Fine. You caught me."
"Caught you?"
"I was checking you out. I'm sorry. Highly inappropriate and completely unprofessional, I know."
I press my back against the hot wooden wall. "Anything in particular catch your eye?"
His lips part, like he wasn't expecting that. He's not the only one surprised by what's unfolding. An attractive young man like him checking out a pathetic old geezer like me? Color me shocked.
"A few things."
I tip my head up, ignoring that inner voice warning me I'm entering dangerous, potentially explosive, territory here. "Yeah? Name 'em."
His eyes meander down my body. "Well…you're in great shape," he says slowly, carefully selecting each word.
"Thank you."
Then he shakes his head, exhaling into the thick, hot air. "No, I can't. It's-it's too embarrassing."
I hike my knees up and lean forward, hanging my elbows off them. "Now I need to know." I can see he's hesitant, so I add, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but I assure you, whatever you say won't leave this sauna."
His gaze lingers on my hands for a moment then drifts up to meet my eyes. "Your fingers."
"Excuse me?"
"Your fingers. They're really thick and sexy, and I've imagined them doing…things to me."
My back hits the hot wall again, but I barely even register it, too caught up in Jarvis's revelation to care about a mild heat burn. With my logic overridden, along with any concern about repercussions or being that old gross guy, I ask, "What sort of things?"
The vein in his neck starts ticking. "Don't make me say it."
"Alright. I won't." I push off the lower bench and climb onto the upper one, sitting on the edge by his legs. "But if you don't want to say it…" I lift my hand and extend it toward him, keeping my eyes locked on him the entire time. "Perhaps you can show me?"