"Oh, God," I groaned. I covered up my ears and rolled over on my bed as I heard the grunts coming from my bathroom – my shower, to be exact. "Oh God, she is not... that sonofabitch."
But oh, yes, she was; She was jerking off in my shower. That fucking asshole.
I had told her she could stay one night because she was too weak to find another safe place to sleep, plus I still needed her for planning details, and then guess what the first thing she did was when she woke up from sleeping on my couch? I hardly needed to say it.
"Are you kidding me?" I seethed to myself as I heard her grunts resonating against my bathroom tiles. "Oh, for the love of Christ."
I threw my covers off and got up from my bed, moving to my dresser. Picking out my clean underwear and attire for the day, consisting of a pair of jeans and a black camisole, I begun dressing, skipping the shower. There was no way I was washing myself in there after she had... done that.
So she's too weak to find another place to sleep, but not too weak to jerk off. Logic.
I scoffed. I was buttoning my pants up when I heard her turn off the water, then heard the shower stall open. Not moments later, my bathroom door opened, and from across my living room, I saw her step out, steam trailing behind her. She laid eyes on me as I quickly pulled my camisole down over my breasts, hiding away my black lace bra. She smirked, the damn fucker. I just scowled. "Did you see everything you wanted?"
"Almost." Was her coy reply.
Asshole. "Did you use up all my hot water?"
"Probably. I like hot baths, too. We should start showering together. You know; save water, save the earth."
I scoffed again. "If you can't keep your fucking mind out of the gutter, then we will have a seriously hard time working togeth—"
"Relax, and I already do have a hard time working with you," Lauren said, walking up to the coffee table where her washed clothes from yesterday laid folded neatly. With just a towel wrapped around her body and her skin still coated in water, she looked like a model for an Acqua di Gio perfume commercial. The tattoo was a nice addition.
"Don't tell me to relax when you're fucking masturbating in my shower," I replied, forcing my eyes away from her. I pulled my hair up in a high ponytail, combing it all out of my face. I could wash my face in the sink. At least she hadn't unloaded there. "Could you please control your urges to when I'm not around?"
"Why? Did it turn you on?"
Dear Lord, I needed to slap her. Maybe it hadn't exactly turned me off listening to a full-grown woman pleasuring herself, but I couldn't be thinking of that right now. I had a missing tech guy, a corrupted government and about two dozen fucking people to bring into foreign witness protection. Oh, and then there was the matter of getting Lauren out of the country, basically betraying my own government.
– That was my Thursday for you.
"No, it didn't turn me on, you fucking shit," I snapped at her, now coming out of my bedroom. "But I can't focus when you're —oh, for Pete's sake, Lauren!"
She had taken off her towel and started drying herself, not giving a damn that I was standing right there. Her family jewels were right there for me to oggle at, except I averted my gaze, holding my hand up to block the sight of her. I couldn't tell which one of us was acting more immature.
The problem was, I was hardly keeping it in my pants at this point. It was already hard enough working with a sexually charged Italian woman who clearly didn't get enough the first time. Then add in the factor that I wouldn't mind a second round myself.