The shower door opened and I stepped back.
He scowled as I looked for an escape, but he blocked the only exit and by his unyielding expression, I wasn’t going to get by him.
“What’s changed?” he asked as he stepped under the spray and I backed up against the tiled wall. “I see it in your face, London. What’s changed?”
He kept approaching until his body was up against mine. His hand cupped the back of my neck while his other curved around my lower back. With one rough tug, he had me pressed against him.
“Answer me,” he shouted.
It was the first time he’d raised his voice and it wasn’t race cars of goose bumps shooting across my skin, it was fighter jets.
“The knife.”
His fingers tightened on my neck. “What about it?”
His cock was pressed into my abdomen. “You’ve… killed people with it?”
There was no hesitation as he said, “Yes.”
“Good people?”
“Does it matter?”
Did it? Killing wasn’t right no matter who it was, no matter the reason. I wanted to save lives and Kai took them. But yeah, it still mattered. “Yes.”
I tried to look down, but he wouldn’t let me. His fingers grasped strands of my hair and firmly pulled my head back. “I’ve never pretended to be anyone else, London.” True, that was all me. I saw him as the man who saved me. I’d convinced myself that Kai was good. “Has every person I’ve killed deserved it? Probably not.” I swallowed. “Were they upstanding citizens? No. But I won’t apologize for who I am. Not to you or anyone else.”
“I don’t like you. I don’t like this.”
“Baby, if you liked me, we’d have a problem. But make no mistake, you do like this.” With his mouth to my ear he said, “Nothing wrong with that, London. You can’t control it, so accept what this is for one more night. Forget that I’m a killer and I’ll try to forget that you’re a scientist.”
I huffed.
He grinned and his grip loosened on my hair as his other hand came up to cup my chin, thumb stroking back and forth. “The rule comes into play at any time, London. Always.”
I frowned, uncertain what he was referring to. “What do you…?” Then it hit me. His rule. If I didn’t want something, all I had to do was tell him. “But the deal.”
“Always.” His thumb played with my lower lip and the action didn’t match the serious look in his eyes.
It was the same word he’d written on the note. The same word he’d said to me after the fire. He’d always come for me, whatever that meant. I didn’t understand him. But I suspected he liked it that way.
One more night. We had one more night and then he’d leave and the always wouldn’t matter anymore. I trapped his thumb with my teeth and then slowly dragged it into my mouth. His eyes blazed with desire and I liked that I could do that to him.
He released me, reached up onto the tiled corner ledge and grabbed the soap bottle. Then he passed it to me.
“Wash me.”
I swallowed, staring at him while I took the bottle.
He stood like a stone statue in the rain, the water dripping over his shoulders down his length, trails of heated moisture. Kai was lean and there was not an ounce of softness about him. Agile, like a deadly black panther. No, he was rarer than that, a solitary Amur leopard.
“Water will be cold soon.” His voice broke through my thoughts and I noticed the lightness to his tone had returned and some of my uncertainty dissipated.
I squeezed soap onto my hands. “Umm, you’d be better to stand out of the spray.”
He shook his head, sighing. “Don’t say umm, London. It doesn’t become you.”
I went to retort something back at him, but I clamped my mouth shut and bit the insides of my cheeks instead. He wanted me to react. What pissed me off was that he was right. I never said umm. It was an ugly filler sound. If I couldn’t find the words, I hesitated, not filled the silence with umm.
I slid the soap along the surface of his smooth skin, his muscled arms, the tattoo on his right shoulder that gleamed black under the wetness. Then I moved to his chest and my hands roamed over the story of his past.
The knife.
Was that why he carried one, because a knife had wreaked havoc on his body? But some scars looked like burns and others were wider than what a knife would leave. Torture. It was impossible all the scars were from an accident. God, who would hurt him like this?
As I finished his upper body, I hesitated when I reached his pelvis and his cock. It was hard and erect, and like the rest of him—commanding.
I glanced up at him.
He arched a brow and took the bottle from me and tipped it, squeezing out more soap. I put my hand out to catch it and the white thick gel suddenly didn’t look like soap anymore.