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“Fuck!” I shout, slamming the folded belt across the table again before running my fingers through my hair. The resounding snap only fuels my need for her. She’s getting to me, but I need to stay in control of myself, and right now, I’m losing it. “Grab a towel, wet it, and get over here,” I order, keeping my voice low.
She scurries to comply as I push my pants down over my hips. She turns and drops the towel when she sees me almost naked, my body hard and cock erect. I don’t shy away, letting her fucking look. Letting her see what she does to me.
“Grab. The. Fucking. Towel,” I demand.
Eyes wide, she bends down to grab the towel, giving me a voyeuristic view of her perfect tits. A groan escapes me, and I have to take a few deep breaths to prevent myself from shoving her to her knees before me.
She tentatively steps forward, her head cocked, waiting on her next order.
“Wash the blood from my body, Ms. O’Brien, and don’t miss a fucking drop.”
Hands shaking, she moves to obey. She reaches up and removes my glasses first and places them on the table. Then she takes the warm rag and gently cleanses the blood from my face. I wasn’t sure how she’d react to all the blood, to witnessing a murder, but she seems less shocked than I expected. Perhaps there’s more to her history than I’m aware of. Maybe the part I was unable to access would tell me why.
Most women would faint or at least cry at the sight of a corpse, at the splatter of blood, but Hellcat? If anything, her reaction seems to be one of lust. Fuck. I wonder if she’s wet between those legs.
She takes great care in cleaning me, her brows furrowed in concentration as she chews on her lower lip. She makes a few trips back to the sink to rinse the towel and get more warm water. She finishes with my face and softly washes my neck and pecs before moving down to my abs. Each soft stroke of the towel has my desire spiraling until I’m panting. I feel weak, almost wild with such incredible lust. The sheer strength of it is something I have never felt before.
“Those aren’t dirty, Hellcat,” I whisper, my voice gravelly with need. “But you can touch them if you’d like to.”
Her eyes lock with mine before glancing at my lips. I know she wants to close the space and kiss me, I can see it in the hesitation. The electricity between us ignites, the flames blazing within my blood.
“I…” She trails off, her cheeks heating again, and her eyes dart between mine. Flustered, she steps away to rinse the rag again before coming back to wash my hands. I almost chuckle. She pulled away this time, but next time, she won’t.
After she’s gotten most of it off, I step around her and make my way over to the sink, washing my own hands before dipping my head in and rinsing the blood from my brown hair.
I grab another clean towel from under the sink and dry myself before heading over to a panel on the back wall. Raising my hand, I depress it and it pushes open, revealing a closet inside. I grab a clean suit and begin to dress again.
Pants, shirt, belt, and jacket.
She watches me every step of the way, still holding the blood soaked rag.
“Stay here,” I command as I secure a fresh tie around my neck. “Don’t leave until we come for you.”
She nods as I place my glasses on and secure my cufflinks. I head to the door, and it slides open. Before I leave, I turn back to my little hellcat. “Are you scared of us yet, Ms. O’Brien?” She swallows hard and licks her lips, seemingly unable to decide on an answer. “Because you should be. This is who we really are… Criminals.”
With that, I exit the room and enter the meeting already taking place next door. As I take a seat, I open my phone and pull up the camera in the room I just left Rory in, intent on watching her every fucking move, even if I can’t be with her.
Will she pass this test, or will she fail?
