“More than you can imagine. Get it off me.” He urged.
He wants to wash away the killing? I wondered.
He was acting as though the blood made him feel deeply dirty.
Not just flesh deep.
I finished his chest and lifted my hands. Using the corner of the bar to lather at a few spots. And scratching at the others with my fingernails, as gently as I could.
I glanced at his eyes. Barely noticing that he was staring at me as if seeing into my soul. His gaze roving my face as if looking for something. His penetrating study made me feel exposed. Even more than I already am.
As intimate as if he’s inside me again.
“What?” I asked.
“You’ve the most erotic thoughts.”
I gasped.
“You were staring at me before that!” I sputtered.
“You’re right. I was.” He coldly admitted.
“Why?”
“A
