A stack of white towels sat piled in the locker nearest the shower room, which was separated from the main room only by an ankle-high tiled barrier. The entrance to the shower area was at least eight feet wide. Definitely no privacy. At all.
The door opened, and Conan stepped back inside carrying a brown metal folding chair. He walked to the shower area and set it up under the showerhead that was nearest to the entrance.
How exactly was this going to work?
Without saying a word, Conan squatted at her feet and unlaced the one boot she was still wearing before pulling it off, along with the sock.
Ro was stunned that he was undressing her like a child. “I can do that. It’s fine.”
“You’ll want to lose the hoody,” he said, as if she hadn’t spoken. Ro pulled it over her head, but left on the t-shirt underneath. She was not stripping down in front of him. Better to make that crystal-freaking-clear right now.
“Um, you can go now. I can take it from here.”
Conan didn’t respond, but swung her up into his arms again and stepped over the divider into the shower room and sat her on the folding chair.
“Strip and toss me your clothes. You should be able to reach the shower knob from there.”
Ignoring his order, Ro replied, “I said I can take it from here. You can go now.”
“Toss me your clothes. You don’t have anything I haven’t already seen a hundred times before.”
Nice.
“Seriously—”
“Strip. Or I’ll do it for you.”
“Turn around.”
“Fine.”
Ro looked behind her to see if he complied. He had. She unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans and wriggled them off. She tossed them into the locker room. Followed by her shirt. Ro reached to unhook her bra, but then stopped. Did she really want to be tossing her underwear at Conan like he was some rock star and she was a desperate groupie? Not really. Not at all.
As if he could read her mind, Conan said, “Just toss your fucking underwear, woman. I don’t have all night to fuck around with you.”
“Then just go!” Ro shot back.
“God, you are a frustrating piece. Just fucking strip. It’s not a big deal. I’m sure you’ve been naked in front of plenty of guys.”
Asshole. That comment stung, given Ro’s recently acquired reputation as a raging slut, but even that couldn’t dull her desire for a shower. So she went with the mature option and unhooked her bra and threw it at his head. He grabbed it off his shoulder and tossed it over to the bench. She pulled her underwear off and tossed them on the floor.
“I can take care of those. Now, could you please just go?”
“Just turn on the water, woman. I’m not going to look.”
Ro grasped the knob and twisted it to hot. She couldn’t contain the squeak that came out when the first spray of cold water hit her. To his credit, Conan didn’t budge.
“It’ll warm up fast. Try to make it snappy. We don’t like to waste the hot water.”
True to his word, the water warmed up, and Ro had to adjust the temperature to avoid being scalded.
Trying not to moan like a porn star, Ro pulled out her hair tie and leaned into the spray to get her hair wet. It. Felt. So. Good.
“How do you even have hot water? And lights that work? I haven’t seen lights anywhere else,” Ro asked.
“We were more prepared than most. Got a good system set up. Alternative sources of power. Have our own wells.” His words cut off. Like he just realized he was sharing with the enemy.
“You do know I’m not here to try to infiltrate your little camp, right? I didn’t even know it was here. And you’re the one who brought me here, against my will, I might add.”
“That’s what bait would say.”
“Whatever.” Ro wasn’t about to spend the time she could be enjoying her shower arguing with Conan. He’d probably shut off the hot water because she was taking too long, so Ro got down to business.