Rule Breaker

CHAPTER 13

She fit him.

The odd thought drifted through his mind as he danced with Gypsy, the slow, gliding steps of the waltz suddenly making sense as they moved together.

She did this with the same grace and sensuality that she danced to that country tune in black leather, or the vintage rock in a white lace skirt and cowboy boots. With such inherent eroticism that his balls tightened with the need to spill his release and ease the granite hardness of his cock.

Tonight, he was determined to have her. His suite was ready, clean sheets graced the bed, candles were lit and ready for the moment he entered the room with her. A bottle of her favorite wine was chilling and he was hard enough to fuck her for hours without softening.

She had orgasmed in his arms, her juices spilling over his fingers as he held her to him in her apartment. He understood that going further would have been far too soon. He sensed she was only now learning that such pleasure could exist. That she could shake with the need for his touch, plead for her release.

He intended to show her far more tonight.

He’d gone to Jonas as soon as he’d asked Dawn why Gypsy was so damned upset over a dress. Her laughing chastisement that he had ruined a chance she felt her mother and even perhaps she had possessed to make a certain impression had been the explanation that suddenly made sense.

They were image and social building professionals. Having their pictures premiere in the right places would of course be important to aid the growth of her parents’ business. To do that, a certain look would have to be achieved; somehow, by reputation, standing, wealth or a unique dress, they would have to be noticed. She had felt he had taken her chance to be noticed.

He’d ensured she was noticed tonight in ways she could never have been at any other party.

When the music moved from a waltz to a slow, sensual tune, he pulled her further into him, feeling her arms curl about his shoulders, her head resting against his chest. And God, he wanted her. He wanted her until he was burning with it.

A natural burn, he assured himself. Had there been anything more, she wouldn’t have been able to hide it from his senses. Mating Heat wasn’t burning within her; simple, pure desire made stronger for the fact that she had been hiding from her own sensual nature for so long was all that burned within her.

As Gypsy and Diane had chatted, Rule had given his brother her request that she see Claire and Liza. The two girls had mentioned a desire to see friends and had named Gypsy especially. Before they left the party, he hoped Jonas would approve the request.

Whether he did or not, Rule was determined he would have Gypsy.

Then, soon, he would have to put his foot down where her nightlife was concerned. It was too dangerous for a Breed lover to run the night without security, and at the moment all units were taken up with protecting Claire and Liza.

She would understand, he told himself. Being his lover would make her a target. Too many forces would assume she was his mate, and he couldn’t explain that to her. The ban on explaining mating or Mating Heat to anyone but a mate was strictly enforced.

It was a thin line he would have to tread.

“I’m ready for a drink,” she mumbled lazily from where she rested against him. “And didn’t you say something about a buffet?”

“Hungry, are you?” He smiled into her hair before allowing her to draw away from him and leading her to the edge of the ballroom.

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” she informed him, her green eyes glancing back at him with sultry hunger.

Shadowed, exotic, her gaze was filled with need and the memory of his fingers stroking her to release.

“Your parents seem to be enjoying themselves.” He nodded to where Wolfe and Hope were joining Callan and Merinus at the table where the McQuades were sitting.

The opportunity to discuss the electronic device her mother had attempted to bring into that meeting more than a week ago still eluded him. Seeing the pain, the betrayal she would experience, feeling it, would enrage him.

And God knew, Gypsy didn’t need more pain where her family was concerned.

“My parents are probably in seventh heaven at the moment,” she told him with a light laugh as they made their way to the connecting ballroom that had been set up with a dozen or more food and dessert tables.

They each filled their plates before collecting a glass of wine. Rule led her to one of the tables in the corner of the room where the low lighting was dimmer, the candles reflecting a small pool of intimacy.

The various items that filled their plates were finger foods. Shrimp, vegetables, tenderloin, lamb and chicken chunks served with a variety of cheeses, crackers and specialty breads.

In the low light that hid them from view, Rule selected a small chunk of lamb, held it in his fingers, then reached across the table to tuck it at her lips.

Surprised, her gaze darkening at the implications of the action, Gypsy stared back at him. Lips parting, she took the morsel of food before her head dipped, her lashes lowering as she ate.

Hell, his tempestuous little Gypsy had a bit of shyness.

Along with the lamb, she also hadn’t chosen several other delicacies. Those he fed to her as well, watching as her face flushed and scenting the heat of her body rising.

She was relaxing with him, easing in his presence. Where before there had been wariness, a hint of fear and rejection, there was now shy acceptance.

How much more accepting could she become? he wondered. Not that he was about to test her boundaries here, at a ball where her parents and sister were in attendance. He would never allow even a chance of her becoming embarrassed by her family seeing the naked sensuality he could draw out of her.

Leaning close, he talked to her instead. He answered what questions he could about the Breed society, and laughed with her over some of the more outrageous tabloid stories. And for some reason, he wasn’t certain why, he told her about the brother and sister he suspected had died when they were taken from the labs.

Grave regret filled her, a well of sadness that reached out to him and attempted to soothe him, that she wasn’t even aware she possessed.

There was no way anyone could suspect this was the woman Jonas believed was a part of the Unknown. Anyone with that shadowy group was as merciless as the Breeds when it came to protecting the innocent, immature creations humankind believed they had created. There wasn’t an ounce of mercilessness inside this woman.

Stubbornness, yes. But never could she kill without thought, in cold blood, just on the suspicion that someone was a threat to the group itself.

As the night deepened and the crowd in the buffet room thinned to only them, he reached across the table and stroked his fingers over her hand.

“Come upstairs with me,” he said, anticipation surging through him as her gaze lifted quickly to his, the scent of her arousal thickening.

“That wouldn’t be a very good idea.” She stared back at him, her relaxed enjoyment of the night fading as uncertainty filled her.

“Are we going to play games, Gypsy?” he asked, his voice as gentle as he could keep it as his cock throbbed like a demon starving for the taste of her.

She looked down once again, though she didn’t pull her hand from his grip.

“I would be a lousy lover for you, Rule.” She finally smiled nervously, shaking her head as she lifted it, her eyes filled with her belief in that statement.

“I think I’m the only judge of who would or would not suit me in my bed, Gypsy,” he refuted, his voice low. “Come on, try me on for size, then decide if I fit as you need me or not.”

“And if the size is wrong?” Amusement flashed in her eyes. “Won’t it be a little too late to decide I’d made the wrong decision?”

“I promise not to kiss and tell.” His brows lifted suggestively. “And I sure as hell don’t come and tell.”

She flushed again. He couldn’t wait to watch that intriguing heat spread from her face, along her neck and over her breasts as pleasure began to fill her.

She was breathing raggedly, her breasts rising and falling quickly beneath the bodice of her pretty gown as she tried to find a way to talk herself out of wanting him.

He could feel her doing it, coming up with all the reasons why she shouldn’t lie in his arms and scream out her release.

Rising, he pulled her unhurriedly to her feet, ignoring the indecision on her face as he drew her to the exit, then the short distance to the elevators.

Her heart was racing so fast, so hard she was nearly shaking with it as excitement churned in the air around her.

Rule drew her into the elevator as the doors swished open, pulled her into his arms and, as they slid closed, lowered his lips to hers.

Her kiss was as sweet as his favorite hard candies, he thought, and just as hot. His tongue licked over her lips, parted them, then stroked inside for a deeper, intimate exploration.

Still, she stood hesitantly before him, her lips parting for him, her tongue touching his despite her wariness, her intent to pull back rising alongside the arousal burning inside her.

Gripping her wrists, he drew them to his shoulders, his hands stroking down her sides before reaching her hips and curling his fingers over them.

She kissed him with a hunger that drove spikes of pure raw need straight to his balls. As she stretched against him, reaching for him now, a moan whispered past her lips as her hips tilted and he pulled her into the thick ridge of his cock rising beneath his slacks.

Pulling his head back, his control threatening to slip, Rule stared down at her, his gaze narrowed on her sensually flushed features.

“I’ll be lucky if I make it to my suite,” he groaned. “You go to my head faster than liquor.”

...

She went to his head faster than liquor?

Gypsy could feel her blood racing through her body, pounding at her clit, in the sensitive tissue of her pussy, and wondered how a kiss would have a woman so ready, so hot and so eager to fuck for a man’s touch.

She didn’t want to wait. She wanted to take him here, now. She wanted his tongue against hers, pushing between her lips and making her even more delirious with pleasure as his hands pushed the material of her dress to her hips. She wanted him to drive that hard, heavy flesh rising between his thighs into the torturous ache between hers.

When his lips refused to kiss her hard enough, hot enough, her fingers speared into his hair, gripped the coarse strands and tried to hold him in place.

She needed so much more than he was giving her.

And it didn’t make sense.

This was too dangerous.

He might not kiss and tell—or whatever version of it they were about to do—but that didn’t mean the Unknown wouldn’t know. They were masters at knowing, especially the one she had made contact with.

Yet pulling away, denying him, was impossible.

She couldn’t taste him deep enough, couldn’t feel the power of his kiss sinking far enough into her and couldn’t make herself care about anything but needing more and more of him.

And that wasn’t like her.

But then, she hadn’t been herself since the night she had glanced across a bar and met his gaze so many weeks ago. As though she had been waiting for him all her life.

The ping of the elevator was only a distant sound, but the feel of Rule suddenly lifting her into his arms and striding from the cubicle was anything but distant. It was the most amazingly sensual act she had experienced to date.

“This is insane,” she whispered, burying her lips against his neck to test the tough flesh with her teeth before licking over the place where her teeth had bitten.

And he wasn’t protesting the feel of her sharp teeth at his neck either. If that rumbled little growl in his chest was anything to go by, he just might have enjoyed it.

She wondered if she could get him to bite her.

A shudder raced through her at the thought, the slide of moisture between her thighs further wetting her already saturated flesh.

“Good God, what were you just thinking?” he groaned as he set her on her feet next to the door of his suite. “Because your hot little pussy just went supernova on me.”

He swiped the security card through the reader, pushed open the door and took a second to test the air before he strode into the room.

The door locked behind them, enclosing them in a world of flickering candlelight and sensual warmth that filled the living area and the bedroom as well. It was like walking into the most romantic dream she could have conjured up. The preparations he had made gave the room a sultry, erotic feel, and a dreamlike quality that he only added to as he carried her to the bedroom.

He didn’t set her on her feet next to the bed. Instead, he laid her back on it, following her down as his hands began gathering the material of her dress and pushing it above her knees.

His lips were on her neck as he shed his jacket, tore at the tie and shirt until he had tossed them to the floor as well, then kicked his dress shoes to the floor. His lips began moving over the firm upper swells of her breasts, leaving a trail of fiery pleasure in the wake of his kisses.

He was moving so fast she couldn’t keep up. She couldn’t process the pleasure or the sensations, and the dizzying surges of them were making her feel overheated and rushed.

If he would just slow down . . .

Gypsy fought to pull in much-needed air as she panted beneath him, feeling him tense above her, his hands moving from where he’d been pushing her dress farther up her legs to clench in the blankets beneath her.

“You okay?” he suddenly growled, his lips at her neck, then her jaw, brushing against them at a much slower pace as she tried to pull her own senses back now.

“I’m okay.” At least, she thought she was.

Hesitantly, she lifted her hands to the hard abdomen straining above hers, her fingers curling as she allowed herself to stroke the tight, bunched muscles.

His skin wasn’t soft, it was tough and at first appeared completely free of any body hair. But it wasn’t, at least not completely. Beneath her palms she could feel the ultra soft sensation of tiny, almost invisible hairs beneath her touch.

And she loved the feel of it.

She stroked to his chest, his hard shoulders, then down again to the clenched abs to where he’d only managed to free the button that held his slacks closed.

Lifting his head from where his lips had been caressing the shell of her ear, Rule eased further above her, his weight held with unconscious strength on his powerful arms.

“Your pace,” he swore, though his voice was hard, tight. “I swear it, Gypsy. Anything, everything you want. All at your pace.”

All at her pace?

Anything, everything she wanted?

Did she even know exactly what she did want from him past this pleasure, his touch, the warmth of him—

He watched her as she stroked his shoulders again, then lifted her hand to brush over his lips.

She hadn’t seen him enjoying the small chocolate and peppermint hard candies tonight, but she had tasted the sweet essence of them in his kiss.

And she craved more of it.

She was going to do this.

Hunger and fear flashed through her, running side by side as a part of her mind watched in horror, unable to believe the wanton he was drawing out.

Her fingers found the zipper of his slacks and began to slide it free, loosening the material over the straining flesh of his cock.

She couldn’t believe she was doing this. Couldn’t believe she was actually throwing away her chance for redemption, for forgiveness—she was throwing it away for this Breed and a pleasure unlike anything she had known before.

“Gypsy, baby, do you know what you’re doing?” he asked as her fingers moved from the zipper to the heavy length of iron-hard flesh that rose from between his thighs.

“I told you, I haven’t done it before,” she whispered, stroking her fingers along the throbbing, heavily veined shaft.

From the wide, silken knob to the pulsing crest, then to the tightly drawn sac beneath. Every inch of him was so hard, heated and insistent for her touch.

She couldn’t encircle the heavy width with the fingers of one hand, so she contented herself with stroking him from base to tip, feeling the flesh clench and pound beneath her touch as she felt her entire body beginning to burn for his possession of her, for her possession of him.

She lifted her head and laid her lips against his chest, her tongue peeking out to taste. And she craved so much more.

Pulling back, her hands flattening against his chest as she pushed at him.

“I want to touch you.” That wasn’t her voice, so low and echoing with a pleasure that bordered pain.

“Gypsy, baby,” he groaned, but he moved.

Rising from the bed, he quickly discarded his pants and his socks before completely surprising her. Kneeling on the mattress with one knee, Rule wrapped his arms around her and lifted her to him, lowering the zipper of her dress as he stared intently into her eyes.

What had happened to her touching him? To him lying back for her? And why wasn’t she protesting?

He removed her dress slowly, satisfaction filling his expression as he pulled it from her, then tossed it carelessly over a nearby chair. Clad now in nothing but French-cut white lace panties and the black stockings with the iridescent emerald green thread sparkling within them, Gypsy felt the need burning inside her heating further.

His fingers hooked in the band of her panties, and a second later they were falling forgotten to the floor as Rule stared down at her, his face flushing, becoming heavy with erotic need as he knelt beside her.

Once again, the engorged length of his cock drew her touch, her hunger. There were things she had imagined doing to him, had never believed she would have the chance she now had. She didn’t want to watch it slip past her and somehow lose the chance to ever do it again.

“I need to touch you,” she whispered, rising until she was kneeling on the bed in front of him, her hand stroking down his chest. “Just for a little bit.”

He caught her hair in the fingers of one broad hand, a tight, brooding grimace pulling at his lips as she moved to taste him.

Her tongue lapped at the hard muscle of his chest, her teeth scraping over it as she felt his body tense further. He moved one hand between them to grip the base of the heavy shaft tightly as the thick crest pulsed in demand.

Gypsy let her hand follow his, stroking down past his abs to the broad head of his cock. She gripped the thick flesh once again and stroked it, learning each pulse and throb, each heavy vein that pounded beneath the silken, tightly stretched shaft.

Her lips moved lower, following the path her fingers had taken to the heavily engorged crest as it rose beseechingly to her lips.

A small drop of pre-cum beaded at the slit, tempting her to taste him. When her tongue swiped over the droplet of moisture Rule groaned as though he were being tortured rather than simply tasted.

His entire attention was focused on her.

The lean hard contours of his body were tight with pleasure as Gypsy parted her lips, her tongue reaching out once more to lick over the knob, before curling beneath the flared edge as her lips descended over it.

His teeth snapped together, pleasure rocking his body with jarring force as Gypsy sucked the head of his cock into the snug heat of her mouth.

Her tongue lashed at the overly sensitive crest, tucked beneath it and rubbed heatedly at the flared edge. With one hand she stroked down the hard column of flesh, then back up, cupping and stroking his tightened scrotum with the other.

A muttered growl escaped his lips. Pleasure arced from his balls to the head of his dick. Her hot little mouth sucked at him, drawing him deep before pulling back, licking and caressing the sensitive head before suckling it erotically once again.

It was torture. It was the greatest pleasure he’d ever known.

He couldn’t help spearing his fingers into the silken weight of her hair. Bunching the strands in his hands, he held her head in place, staring down at her as he fucked her mouth with slow, shallow strokes. Watched her lips redden and swell, her eyes glaze with arousal as the scent of her need washed over his senses.

“So sweet and hot,” he groaned, the sight of her expression suffused with pleasure enough to send a furious pulse of sensation racing through his testicles.

She was exquisite.

Tightening her mouth on him, she sucked at the throbbing cock head harder, creating a damp, wet haven for the shuttling crest as he moved against her. He wouldn’t last much longer and he knew it. He couldn’t last much longer. He’d waited far too long to have her, teased himself with the thought of taking her for far too many nights.

Before she could tempt him further, though, he moved back. He pulled himself from the liquid heat of her mouth as her eyes flew open, surprise and need gleaming in the dark green depths.

“Lie down for me, my wild little Gypsy,” he growled, lowering himself and forcing her to recline back on the bed.

Her lips were honeyed heat as he took them again, parting and welcoming as her tongue tangled with his, then arching closer for more as he pulled back to sip at her lips.

She was pure, feminine heat and erotic promise and Rule knew that even without Mating Heat, she would be damned hard to walk away from.

If he decided to walk away from her . . .

God help him if the Heat decided to ambush him, because it would kill him to tear himself from her now.

Gypsy gripped Rule’s powerful shoulders as his lips moved down her neck; the force of pleasure lashing at her nerve endings had her crying out and arching closer. His teeth raked over her neck, his lips and tongue easing the little hurt as he made his way to her collarbone, then lower.

He kissed over the rise of her breasts to the aching points of her nipples. Covering one painfully hard tip, his tongue curled around it, licked it, loved it, as he suckled at it deeply. Lava-hot pleasure enveloped her senses as her hands tightened on his shoulders, her nails unconsciously kneading the tough flesh.

Electric heat zipped from the tortured tip of her breast to strike at her womb, clenching it furiously before racing to her clit and swelling the little bud tighter.

His hand was between her thighs, sliding up the inner curve of one before cupping the saturated heat between her legs. His fingers eased between the pouty lips to find the heavy juices spilling from her. His touch rasped over the clenched entrance of her sex. There, his fingers rubbed, stroked. They set up a firestorm of ecstatic pleasure, barely entering her, rubbing at the sensitive nerve endings just inside the entrance.

His lips moved from one nipple to the other, sucking at each, his tongue licking and stroking as she arched to him. Desperate need tightened inside her, clenching her muscles and whipping over her flesh.

“Rule, please . . .” she begged, arching, writhing beneath him as so many sensations seemed to converge on her at once.

Hunger and need, emotions she had fought back so long, were now rising inside her so fast, so hard, she couldn’t force them back.

Emotions she hadn’t realized she’d kept hidden so well from herself.

Rule lifted his head then, staring down at her as she forced her eyes open to stare into the wild hunger of his gaze. His lips curled into a devastatingly sensual smile.

“Ah, baby,” he crooned. “I intend to please you. Very, very well.”

Holding her gaze, he lowered his lips once again.

Gypsy couldn’t hold back the gasp that escaped her as his lips moved between her breasts, his tongue stroking over skin she hadn’t realized could be so sensitive.

Then he moved lower.

Stroking over her midriff, down her stomach, those slow, devastating kisses moved between her thighs. Broad palms pressed against the outer curve of her upper legs, spreading them wider and wedging his shoulders between them as his lips moved to the curls at the top of her mound.

His cheek brushed against the softness, his breath feathering the neat fluff as she arched involuntarily, her hips lifting for him, her thighs falling farther apart.

The touch of his tongue was such a shock of pleasure that Gypsy couldn’t hold back her cry. Nothing should feel that good.

His tongue swiped through her juice-laden slit, stroked around her clit, flicked against it and sent brilliant waves of sensation tearing through her body. Only to ease back, to lick lower, to tease and torment the entrance to her vagina.

Pure arching pleasure flashed through her so hard and so fast that Gypsy found her torso lifting from the bed before falling back. Her heels dug into the mattress, hips lifting, a cry tearing from her as his tongue pressed inside, licking at flesh that responded with pulse after pulse of quicksilver pleasure and yet more of the thick essence of her need.

She couldn’t seem to catch her breath.

Her body was burning with need, her clit so swollen, so desperate for release—

“Oh God, Rule, please.” She arched again as his lips returned to her clit, his tongue licking in a tight, blazing circle around the little nub.

She was so close. She could feel ecstasy reaching out to her, teasing her, tempting her to fall into the flames only to refuse her at the last second.

Rule pulled back, delivered a fiery kiss to the tortured bundle of nerves before suckling it into his mouth and tormenting her with the nearness of release again.

She was crying out for him. She could hear her voice, broken and pleading.

Suckling at her firmly, his tongue rubbed against her clit, stroking, caressing and licking, tightening her womb, her pussy, her thighs.

Release ripped through her like a vicious storm, shaking her from her head to her toes, pouring through her senses with a downpour of rapture that rained through her entire body.

Gypsy could feel herself opening, a part of herself she hadn’t known existed fracturing inside her soul. As though some inner wall were all but falling to rubble as the heat enveloping her seemed to pour from him, into her, then back again.

Collapsing back to the bed, she felt Rule move over her, his larger, harder body covering her. Forcing her lashes open, Gypsy watched as he gripped the thick base of his cock, nudging the crest against her entrance before his gaze lifted to hers.

“That’s it, baby, watch me take you,” he whispered as the thick crest parted the folds of her pussy and pressed against the snug entrance. “Sweet Gypsy. God help me, so much damned pleasure.”

The groan sounded torn from him, ripped from his chest as Gypsy watched the head of his cock press deeper, only to pull back, glistening with her juices before pressing inside again and delving deeper.

Her head fell back against the bed, pressing into the pillow as pleasure erupted through her flesh at the heavy stretch and burn of her vagina. Rule eased back, only to return, rocking against her, inside her, stretching her and burning her with a pleasure that had her nails digging into his shoulders, her neck arching as a cry tore from her lips.

She felt his muscles bunch as he pulled back again, his body tensing a second before he powered inside her with a quick, hard thrust that sent a flare of pain arching through her vagina a second before the invading heat stilled, buried mere inches inside her, thick and throbbing.

“Gypsy?” His rough, animalistic tone had her lashes lifting, confusion filling her as she realized he was staring down at her as though shocked.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered, running her tongue over her dry lips as she shifted experimentally against him, a heavy mewl of pleasure escaping her lips at the throb of his cock against her inner flesh.

Then he moved again.

Rule pressed deeper inside her, that feeling of fullness intensifying, heating until she was lifting her hips higher, desperate to take all of him.

Each time he pulled back, easing the burning stretch and ecstasy of the pleasure building inside her, her breath would catch, protest rising inside her. Then he powered inside her again, deeper, fuller.

Her world shrank, narrowed, consisted of nothing but the pleasure crowding her senses, the sensations racing through her, building atop each other as his hips began to move faster, harder.

He thrust inside her with heavy strokes that kept her senses shocked and stunned with the alternate pulses of pleasure and pain, fire and fullness. Writhing beneath him, Gypsy cried out his name, the feel of his pelvis stroking the ultra sensitive bud of her clit as the flared head of his cock stretched her inner muscles, stroked and discovered nerve endings even Gypsy hadn’t known she possessed, sent her senses flying.

Each measured, hard thrust tightened that coil of sensation building in her womb and echoing in her clit. Each stroke sent so many lashes of pleasure, striking arcs of heat and excitement rasping across her nerve endings that she feared she wouldn’t survive it.

Pounding inside her, the jackhammer thrusts built the agonizing pleasure, pushing it higher, sensitizing her further and tightening her body until she swore she felt the sun erupt inside her pussy.

A storm of sensation exploded through her. It flared through her, blinding heat followed by flames of ecstasy licking over every nerve ending, stroking and caressing some internal trigger before setting it off and sending clashing rapture reverberating through her senses.

She was jerking in his arms, crying out his name. Her vagina tightened on his cock as she felt the heavy throb, a thickening of the already wide shaft and that first, heated pulse of his release jetting inside her.

A second later, her arms were empty, her body was empty, the burning rapture shut off mid-orgasm, leaving her confused and cold before she realized his body no longer covered hers. He was no longer finding his release inside her.

Hell, he wasn’t even in the bed with her.

He was standing next to it, his breathing harsh, his blue eyes vivid and wild as he stared down at her, a snarl on his lips revealing the sharpened canines as his cock stood out from his body, thick and hard and glistening from their combined dampness.

“Rule?” she whispered, her chest suddenly tightening, a feeling of impending doom weighing on her soul and stealing her breath.

“I have to wash up.” His voice sounded odd, too thick, too heavy. “I’ll give you a ride home when I get out of the bathroom.”

He turned and stalked to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him two seconds before she heard the sound of the shower.

The shower?

He was taking a shower?

She stared down at her body, seeing the smear of blood on her thighs, staining the sheet between her legs. She was slick from her need for him, her body still throbbing with remembered bliss.

He would take her home after he washed up?

Why? What had she done wrong?