Page 57 of The Phantom's Vice

“Ohfuck.”

“What is it?” I demand, reaching for her. She jerks back, pulling the sheet up to her chest with a face as pale as snow.

Now I’m freaking out. I yank the sheet off her in one fell swoop—and then I see it.Red. So much red coming from my darling.

I jump out of bed, running over to Brett’s side and holding her face between my hands, checking her for injuries. “Brett! Talk to me, darling. What hurts?”

How could I have let this happen?Howdid thishappen? If she’s really, truly hurt, I don’t know what I’ll do with my?—

My thoughts come to a halt as Brett’s lips part, letting out a small laugh.

“This is no laughing matter, Brett!” I curse, checking the back of her head.Did she hit it? Is that why she’s acting this way?

“G-Ghost, stop. I’m fi-fine,” she says, her laughter causing her words to break. “It’s… I’m not hurt.”

“You’re bleeding!” I insist, jerking my chin toward the massive blood stain on the sheets. Brett laughs harder, and I pull my brows together, trying to piece the clues together. And then—and then it hits me.It’s that time of the month.

My face is on fire as I loosen my grip on Brett, slowly standing from the bed. “I apologize. When I saw the blood, I was not in my right mind. I thought—”I thought you were hurt. I thought I was going to lose you.“Here. Let me help you clean off.”

“No!” She jerks back, refusing to look at me. “Sorry. I just mean… I can do it by myself.”

I shake my head, reaching for her again. “I have heard this time of a woman’s cycle is most painful. I would like to help—to ease your discomfort.”

Brett crinkles her nose but ultimately lets mepick her up from the bed. I hold her gently against my chest as I walk to the bathroom, running a hand soothingly over her hair the whole way. I hate the fact she could be in pain right now. I want to take it all away—would gladly feel all of her hurt if I had the capacity. But, alas, I am just a man.

I adjust my grip on her to hold her with one arm, using the other to turn the faucet on. I look from Brett to the water filling the tub, a wave of anxiety overcoming me.I do not know if the water will be too hot…but I also do not want to ask her to do anything while she is hurting.

“What’s up?”

I look down at Brett, noting the little smile at the corner of her mouth. “I am… trying to make sure the water is not too warm.”

Brett frowns like she can’t understand. “Just hold your hand under it—duh.”

I shake my head. “That will not work. I cannot sense temperature.”

“Oh.” She looks up at me, a deep eleven between her brows. “You never told me that.”

“I did not think it was important.”

Brett sighs, reaching an arm out toward the water. I grab her hand, pulling it back to my chest. “Brett, you are in pain. I do not want to ask this of you.”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m not a vegetable, Ghost. I have a period every month. I can put my hand under the water.”

“But it might be too hot?—”

I’m cut off as Brett shoots her arm out, testing the water. She smiles up at me, a glimmer in her pale blue eyes. “Feels great. Wanna put me down now?” I shake my head, and Brett’s nose crinkles. “Well, I’m sure as shit not letting you give me a bath. Especially notnow.”

Her eyes drop as if she is embarrassed. I place a finger under her chin, pulling her face back up to mine. “You should not feel shame for your body's natural functions. It would make me happy if you let me help you. Just for today.”

Brett looks dubious but eventually nods her confirmation. “Fine. Let's get this over with.”

I place her gently on the edge of the tub, listening as the water laps at the walls of the porcelain. Running the edge of her top between my thumb and forefinger, I look into her eyes, asking my silent question. She nods again, and I lift her shirt over her head. My eyes take in Brett’s full breastsgreedily, trying to find the willpower to refrain from touching her.

My heart beating erratically, I reach around her, pulling the towel from her body with trembling fingers. I swallow hard as I glimpse her perfect chest, full breasts begging to be held and toyed with. Her nipples harden, begging to be licked, and it takes everything in me not to rip my mask off and take her into my mouth.

“Oh, Brett,” I whisper, my eyes roaming and memorizing every inch of her. “You’re so beautiful.”

“I’m bloated,” she grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest self-consciously. “And these things? They hurt like a motherfucker.”

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