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He strips me down to my underthings, and then picks me up again, depositing me into the warm bathtub. Once he's sure that I'm not going to drown myself, he stands up and unbuttons his shirt. I watch in awe as inch by inch of his golden skin becomes visible. There's a spattering of hair on his chest, and I strangely want to rub my hand against it and see what it feels like. I'm distracted by that thought when he finishes unbuttoning the shirt and his mouthwatering abs come into view.
I realize how utterly inappropriate it is for me to be feeling this amount of lust while bathing in water that is slowly turning pink from blood. The blood of the two men that I just shot mercilessly, no less. But it can't be helped. Obviously, I have more screws loose than I knew about.
His eyes spark in answer to the desire that I'm sure is written all over my face, but he tampers whatever he is feeling down. He grabs a cloth from under the sink and then sinks down to his knees.
He then proceeds to bathe me. His soothing touch pushes those dark feelings out of me stroke by stroke. They drain away with the bloody bath water that he drains twice before he deems me satisfactorily clean. His hands massage my scalp, making sure that I'm perfectly spotless from head to toe. His hands are methodical and sure…comforting in a way that I didn't realize he was capable of.
He helps me out of the bathtub, wrapping my whole body in a towel that somehow must have been heated since it feels so warm. He leads me through a doorway into a bedroom that holds the largest bed that I've ever seen. He walks to a drawer and pulls out an undershirt that he slides down my body. My underthings are still wet underneath the clean shirt, but I'm too tired to remove them. He pulls down the covers of the bed, picks me up, and lays me down tenderly in the middle. I feel like I'm lying in a cloud.
He looks admiringly at me as if he's memorizing the sight of me.
"I've been imagining how you would look in my bed," he says, his voice hoarse.
I blush, but I can't muster up the energy to respond to his statement.
"Clara?" I ask tiredly, wanting to go back to her, but knowing that I need the rest.
"Some of my most trusted men are stationed outside of her room. They know to make sure everything is perfect."
I trust him. That's my last thought before my eyes blink closed and I fall into a deep sleep. It's a sleep that for the first time since the night of the attack, is blissfully free of the nightmares that have been plaguing me.
I wake up, the soft light of a nearby window caressing my face. Loud breathing has me turning over to look behind me quickly. I relax when I see that Landon is asleep on his stomach next to me. The sight is arresting. The aura of authority and aggression that follows Landon everywhere is missing. He looks peaceful and much younger. I can't help but reach a hand out to push a lock of his soft black hair out of his face. My touch is enough to cause him to lazily open one eye.
"Hi," he says quietly, his voice gruff with sleep. I watch as the memory of the prior night's events rush into his consciousness, and he suddenly is wide awake.
"How do you feel?" he asks, and I know the question is much deeper than asking about how my body feels. He's asking about how I feel about murdering two men…how I feel about him.
I think about it for just a moment, because a moment is all I need to get my answer.
"I feel better," I tell him, and I know that he sees what I mean when he's suddenly pulling me on top of him as he attacks my mouth in a desperate kiss.
When his tongue sweeps into my mouth, I moan and grip his hair, pulling myself flush against his chest. His hands knead, touch, and roam over every inch of my back while his mouth continues its devastation.Gosh, he tastes good, like something that's been out of my reach until now.
I grip Landon harder, kissing him longer. This is what I want, this is what I've wanted for weeks. I'm on fire, every muscle in my body attuned to his. I clench with delicious need.
Diving into him once more, his tongue slays me, erasing every thought of the outside world until I'm breathless, and we have to break away to drag in air.
The break forces me back down to earth and I remember that I need to get back to the hospital to check on Clara. I give him one last light kiss, my eyes soaking in the look in his golden eyes.
We get ready together, never straying from each other's side. In the car, he cradles my cheeks, drawing his thumb across my bottom lip. I close my eyes and fight all of my churning emotion. There's so much of it.
I take a deep breath as we walk into the hospital. I've resolved to be honest with Clara. Although I know that it will devastate me if she can't handle my actions and wants nothing to do with me, I brace for the inevitable occurrence anyway.
She's sitting up, eating some horrible hospital food, as I walk in. She freezes when she sees me, and we stare at each other for a long moment before she finally speaks.
"Are they gone?" she asks, a hint of steel in her voice.
"Yes," I whisper, watching her closely.
She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before saying anything in response.
"Good," she says, and then resumes eating her meal, faster and with more gusto than she was when I first walked in.
I stumble in response and immediately feel Landon's steadying arms surround me.
Clara eyes him for a moment, and I still once again, wondering how she will react to him after her panic attack when she saw her male doctor. Clara simply nods at him though and continues eating.
More of the darkness inside of me slips away.
