I sigh with relief when he stops, though that relief is only momentary as the razor continues its work, swiping at the hair about my anus. I swear he’s cut the skin when the blade feels as though he’s dug deep—and yet, there is some inherent trust for this man based on nothing but the meager facts I know of him and the strange attitude of caring behind his mocking bravado.
I think he’s finished with me when Broc rinses my crotch with a wet washcloth. But he’s not completely satisfied with the job, so he swipes at me a few more times. I cannot see for myself, but the picture is clear in my mind.
“Perfect job, Colonel,” Tahli comments.
“And perfect it will remain. You have the salve.”
“Right here.” He holds out a jar of cream.
I think it’s cold cream, something to soothe the opened
