A man sipping rum at the bar approaches me:
- You are French ?
He is brown, with curly hair and tanned skin. He wears a half-open white linen shirt and light pants. He looks at me with great gentleness and a smile that could easily make me capsize.
- I answer, a little surprised: yes, how do you know?
- I lived in France for fifteen years, I would recognize your accent among a thousand.
I take the glass of water filled with ice cubes and I down it, dead. The feeling of cold disperses in my mouth, in my throat, throughout my ribcage. Without being able to control it, I emit a little moan of pleasure. Still a little feverish, I stare into the Brazilian's, I can't get rid of it. I am completely paralyzed, electrified by him.
The waiter brings me back to reality by telling me that the receptionist has arrived. I turn on my heels in the direction of reception without even turning around, I have to stay focused. But my mind wanders, I don't know if it's the room temperature, but I'm feeling a little cottony, I even think I'm a little excited. And this Brazilian comes to invade my thoughts…
Once in my room, I open my computer and try to reread my presentation. But I can not. I definitely can't concentrate. My mind wanders: what if the Brazilian knocked on my door now and told me in Portuguese all the desire I inspire in him… I caress my chest… hesitate…. In the midst of a struggle with myself, I resist and get back to work. I get up and practice saying my text, gesticulating as if I were really in front of the leaders. The more I repeat, the more stressed I am. I'm starting to sweat, I'm hot. I feel like the temperature is rising again. I take a cool shower to calm down and clear my head. While soaping myself, I get lost again, I linger on my breasts, my penis, I don't know what has happened to me since I arrived here, I feel filled with desire, with desire . I soap my body tenderly, I take advantage of the cold, I pass the jet of the shower head over myself. I slide it down between my legs and I shiver with pleasure every time the water massages my clitoris. I pull myself together, once again, I get out of the shower ready to get back to work. I dry off but after a few minutes I'm sweaty again. I'm suffocating. No need to open the window, it's worse outside. I take a chair and climb on it to check the air conditioning ventilation, no cold air comes out. I fiddle with the settings and end up making a mess. I press all the buttons and I start to get angry. “The air conditioning is broken, it’s not true.”
I call the hotel reception, no answer. I decide to go down. I still have nothing to wear. Out of the question of wearing a thick bathrobe, I put on one of my swimsuits and go downstairs to get help, half-naked. When we get downstairs, there is no one there, even the waiter has disappeared. The Brazilian is still leaning on the bar and his beauty almost makes me forget why I am there. He asks me if everything is okay. I tell him a little annoyed that I no longer have air conditioning in my room and that the heat is unbearable. He tells me that the whole hotel has a problem and that a technician is working.
- How long do you think it will take?
Two or three hours, according to him. That's all it takes, the prospect of staying another two hours in this furnace makes me waver, my legs begin to tremble, panic overcomes me, I feel myself falling. When I come to my senses, I am in the arms of the handsome Brazilian. I'm in a swimsuit, almost naked, I feel his skin on me, his hands gripping me firmly. I want him almost instantly. He helps me to stand up and invites me to follow him, he takes me to his room. Carefully helps me sit up and takes a small damp towel from the spare fridge. He invites me to lie down.