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She smiles, giggling slightly. “Maybe.”
“I will,” I whisper, kissing her cheek.
Without another word, I carry her toward our bedroom with the bathroom in mind. Together, we need to cleanse the paint from our bodies and the scent of what we just did. Although, I’d much rather her smell like me for the rest of the day.
I don’t bother to set her down when we enter the massive shower and turn on the hot water for the both of us. The remnants of the colors on our bodies slowly spiral down the drain as I set her on her feet.
“Oh no,” she murmurs, paling slightly at my cock. “I…”
My eyes fall to the red painting my dick. I run my fingers over it, checking the consistency, and it all clicks into place when my eyes snap to hers. Normally, blood makes my head spin, and I want to leave the room. But hers?
Well, that’s a whole new feeling taking hold.
“You’re okay?” I ask, lifting her chin. “It didn’t hurt, did it?”
She shakes her head, pursing her lips when she holds up her fingers, examining the red on them, too. “No. I don’t think so. I apparently started my period. I… I’m sorry,” she murmurs, trying to break away from my hold as embarrassment clings to her.
“Don’t be sorry. It’s natural. And see? I can just wash it off,” I say softly, running water over my dick so the blood completely disappears, just like the paint.
She wrinkles her nose and nods. “Thanks, Shepp,” she says softly, leaning her head back into the hot water. “I think I’m going to need some tampons, though. I have an IUD, so my periods sometimes come and sometimes don’t. Apparently, it wanted to come today.” She shrugs, avoiding eye contact with me.
“After this, I’ll take you.” A sense of relief slams through me as I freely talk to her. Being able to communicate with her, using my broken voice, is unmeasurable.
I know it’ll shut down again when the guys return. I know my anxiety will spike, and it’ll freeze up like it has in the past. But I revel in these moments with just her and I, speaking to one another normally.
Journey gives me a small smile as we clean each other, rubbing soap all over our bodies until the paint and blood are gone. It feels like hours with her under the hot spray of the shower, that never ceases to keep us warm. I help her out, dry her off with care, and then take her into her closet. She looks around, locating a pair of black leggings, and gets dressed.
“Meet me in my room,” I rasp out, pointing out the door, and she nods.
I go to my room, get dressed in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, and then meet her by the door. By the time we reunite and I kiss her cheek, the front door slams open, and Arrow and Jer’s loud, angry voices echo through the mansion.
“Looks like the grump of the house has returned,” she quips, looking behind her.
Instantly, anxiety grips my throat, and everything seizes inside me. My lips pop open, wanting to tell her that we need to go downstairs, but nothing comes out.
I’ve officially locked up.
Her brows furrow. “You're nervous?”
I shake my head.
“It's okay, Shepp,” she whispers, putting a hand on my chest.
I take a deep breath and grab her hand, leading her down the stairs and straight into the kitchen, where Jericho paces a small trail into the floors and Arrow snacks.
The moment Jericho and Arrow catch sight of us, they take us in. Wet hair. New clothes. A pleasant smile on my lips. Yeah, they know exactly what we just did.
Suckers.
That’s what they get for leaving me here. But I don’t mind. I’d stay behind any day, just to hang out with Journey and paint with her.
‘What's the news?’ I sign, my voice going into hiding.
Jericho runs his hand through his messy locks with a frown pulling at his lips.
“Seems we have a snake to snuff out.”
“A snake?” Journey asks, standing directly beside me with her wet hair combed through.
