Page 24 of Devious Lies

I slow my breathing. Forcing myself to calm down even as I grab the front of her shirt and I tear it right off her body.

Maria gasps, her hands move in front of her chest.

But I’ve seen tits before, and she’s wearing a bra. It’s not like I’m a fucking pervert.

Even if hers are the best fucking pair I’ve ever seen.

I tug the ruined material off her, forcing her arms down. Next, I grab another towel off the rack and I hold it in front of her.

“T-thanks,” she murmurs, and wraps it around herself.

I grunt.

I’m incapable of words.

Seeing her vulnerable, and having her here in my space, is a lot.

I’ve fantasized about this very thing for months. Well, not exactly.

Like, not the part where a drunk dick hurt her.

I grit my teeth and I grab the tweezers and the disinfectant from the first-aid kit.

“This will numb the area,” I whisper and spray it over her skin.

She nods.

“Hold still, Baby Girl,” I tell her.

Altogether, I extract six tiny shards of glass from her skin. I clean her wound and apply antibiotic ointment and a small bandage.

It shouldn’t scar.

Anger fills me as I think of that prick who did this to her, and I clench my jaw. I hate that she’s hurt.

“Um, thank you,” she says, and she sounds uncomfortable.

Shit.

I know I’m not doing anything to make her less stressed by being so closed off.

I already tore her fucking shirt off and accosted her without so much as an explanation.

Amazing, isn’t it?

I’m a fucking lawyer. Words shouldn’t be so hard for me.

But here I am, kneeling in front of this slip of a girl, and I can’t think of one goddamn thing to say.

“D-do you have a shirt I can borrow?” she whispers, and I want to slap myself in the forehead.

“Yeah. Of course,” I mutter, and I exit the bathroom.

I grab one of my undershirts and frown. I’m tall, yeah, and my shoulders are wide, but I’m not as big as Nico or Angel.

My build is leaner, and all my button downs are tailored for me.

Maria, fuck, Maria is hot. She’s gorgeous and curvy, completely mouthwatering.