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I gesture toward the bathroom, and he groans as he stands.
Following him in, I hop up on the sink, admiring the view as he strips out of his boxers and climbs into the shower, turning the spray on. I grimace. That has to be cold.
He doesn’t so much as flinch.
“I feel like you’re getting screwed out of all the good stuff and skipping right to the worst case scenarios,” he says over the sound of the water.
“I’m currently not getting screwed. Did he leave more messages?”
He grunts, and I watch as he tips his head back, running his hands through his hair to wet it. I think shower times should get watched from now on. This is hot. I want to video it so I can perv more later—after I buy a replacement vibrator.
“Just his media name and the words ‘You can’t’ were carved. Two bodies in two days is a rapid devolution. He’s getting too bold.”
I dropped two bodies in one day, but I hardly feel like now is the time to brag about my awesome efficiency.
“How’s he choosing his victims?”
We shouldn’t be talking about an active case. It’s against the rules. But this one actually concerns me, considering I’m probably a target. So that makes it…okay?
“He’s choosing mostly brunettes in their mid-twenties. All were low risk victims, but none were put on display until he came here. This latest one was found tied to the top of her car, and the car was moved to the middle of the street. That’s all I know so far.”
I think that over before responding.
“He’s feeling the high. There’s a certain feeling of invincibility when the killer finds it impossible to get caught. It probably turns him on more than the torture to see everyone quivering in fear. He’s also approving of his media name, adopting the persona. Everyone fears the Boogeyman growing up. Now he’s reigniting that fe
ar in adults.”
He blows out a breath of agreement, and I try to think of something to say.
“You can’t? That’s an odd message.”
“Yeah. I’m sure it’s a taunt. Maybe he got interrupted before he could finish.”
Maybe…
When it grows quiet, I think of something else to say, just to make it look like I’m asking more questions than about the killer.
“Does it bother you that I didn’t tell you I was rich?”
“No,” he says immediately. “I like the fact you’re humble. My stepdad always said that those who strive to be humble detest the ways of the arrogant.”
I like that.
“And for the record, I can tell your past is a sore subject, so I don’t want to press for any information there either. I enjoy just getting to know who you are now,” he adds, causing me to smile and grimace at the same time.
He’s bringing back parts of me that I thought were dead, resurrecting my soul from ashes. But all the shadows that lurk inside me, hiding the monster within… Those are parts he can never see.
He shuts off the shower and steps out just as quickly, grabbing a towel from the rack. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t distracted by the way the water seems to follow all the lines of his abs to the towel as he conceals my happy place with the fluffy fabric.
An audible sigh escapes me in dreamy fashion, and Logan smirks, arching an eyebrow at me. I’m not even ashamed that I’m ogling him.
It feels good to crave someone and want them. I won’t take it for granted or be embarrassed.
He grabs a toothbrush from his bag—when did that get in here?—and sidles up next to me to start brushing his teeth.
We look like a Sunday morning special right now—instead of killer and hero.
As soon as he’s finished brushing his teeth, he slides my legs apart and settles in between them. I don’t protest at all when he kisses me, tasting minty and ultra fresh.
