B**** in Charge

When I got back I decided that, since **** wasn't available, I'd calm myself with a long shower. It was great right up until the point that Maria entered the bathroom and said, "Either move over or get out before you use up all the hot water; I need to shower too."

I was tempted to tell her that I'd simply move over, just to see if she'd really climb in with me, but decided that I didn't want to risk her calling my bluff. So, I gave myself one last rinse and got out.

When I did, she was standing in front of the mirror, doing something and she turned to appraise me before I could grab a towel. Her response was an unimpressed, "Huh."

I grabbed the towel, wrapped it around myself and decided to wait to blow dry my hair.

I was checking my work email on my phone when Maria finished her shower and strode across the hotel room with the authority of a big cat.

Somewhat unsurprisingly, she had larger, more defined muscles than mine, undoubtedly from a workout routine that included weight lifting compared to my preference for lots of cardio.

More surprising, and honestly a little disconcerting to a belonephobe like me, were the spiky tribal tramp stamp atop her plump ass and thorned rose between her shoulder blades.

At which point, I'm pretty sure that she deliberately turned to show off her front, because no one gets dressed socks and hair tie first.

Like the back, the front possessed defined muscles. But, unlike the back, it had two pendulous breasts, which were very obviously fake, given that they were each at least half the volume of her head and unnaturally perky, not that I was in a position to throw stones.

Also like the back, she had several spiky tribal tattoos placed on her lower pelvis, around her belly button, and wrapped around the outside of each breast, and I couldn't but shudder at the thought of having them there, like a thorned bra strap.

Finally, just to make sure that I was completely weirded the fuck out, she had gold rings pierced through everything below the neck and she smirked when my gaze reached the lowest set and I shuddered.

"Like the look?" she asked, tauntingly.

"It's not for me," I said hastily, putting my phone away and standing to go anywhere else.

"Pathetic. You're so scared of a little pain that you're going to flee at the mere thought of discomfort?"

Which made me grit my teeth and lock myself in the bathroom with the fan on, ensuring that I had an excuse to ignore any further taunts from the bitch, I mean, agent in charge.