Page 21 of Lamb

“How about you just give it to me?” My body had already begun to shake, the effects of the medication Mint had injected wearing off faster than I had hoped. The peace it had brought, even momentarily, had been nice. And tempting. I would be willing to bet that whatever drug it was would not be easy to access; otherwise, I would be in the market to change my addiction.

“I think you need a recap on the termleverage.” Lamb smirked, walking back across the room to join me in the doorway. His warm, woodsy scent stirred my stomach, both soothing and yet didn’t stop me from wanting to vomit on his bare feet. Could not tell if that was an emotional or physical response.

“You just want to get me naked,” I accused, pushing up onto my toes to get into his face. If I vomited now, maybe I would get a headshot.

Lamb, unfortunately, wasn’t privy to my thoughts and, at my words, he closed the tiny distance remaining between us. The warmth of his breath rolled over my cold skin and my lips. If I puckered, they would touch his.

His neutrality vanished. His eyes narrowed, and a sharp reptilian focus crawled through. Brown darkened to black as he tilted his head down to mine. “I know an easier way to do that,” he purred, the vibrations caressing my skin as he placed his bare foot onto the soft carpet between mine. He didn’t touch me, but the intrusion was electric; static rushed through my limbs, and my hair stood on end.

I jolted back but did not get far, as my spine slammed into the frame of the door, dull pain bursting across my ribs. My surprised gasp blew over Lamb’s lips as he refused to give back even an inch of space he had claimed.

His hand latched against the doorway above my head, arm bracketing off the hallway and closing any escape. Sandalwood and cedar steeped my senses as his lips moved across the surface of my skin. He did not touch, but his rolling breath was a ghost across my cheek, moving slowly over my flushed cheeks and tight jaw before settling in the shell of my ear. “Would you prefer the alternative?”

My heart jumped into my throat, suffocating my lungs as I was overwhelmed by his proximity. Shivers racked through my body, and I knew it was not from the medication. Anger flared in my chest as defeat settled in.

“Fine,” I hissed, turning my head away and holding my breath. “Get off me.”

I couldfeelthe bastard smile, but when he stepped back, nothing was there. His expression returned to the passive, gentle persona he masqueraded, extending his hand back towards the bath. “If you’d please …”

I scuttered out of his reach, halting only in front of the tub. Even if I was only a foot out of arm’s reach, air returned to my lungs, and the weight of his tangible aura lessened around my throat.

Steam clung to my chilled skin, humid moisture beaded on my arms, and the plush bathmat felt soft between my toes. Staring at the milky-white water, warmth and subtle scents rising from the surface, a deep and weary ache resonated inside.

It was not like I chose to be dirty. Life on the streets was hard, and when you spent time wondering where your next meal would be and if the rain would hold up for a few hours of sleep, hygiene slipped down the list of priorities. It was rare I had an opportunity like what was in front of me, and yet, I still hesitated.

Something felt like it would be giving in. It was stupid—I knew that—but giving in to one desire would inevitably lead to another and another, and soon, I would be wishing for things I could not have.Should nothave. Even a single, tiny wish was dangerous. I had learned that the hard way.

“I …” I stared down at the rippling water, a murky shadow of my reflection, too distorted to distinguish features, looked back up at me. “I do not want this …”

I thought I had whispered it, but either Lamb’s ears were inhumanly sharp, or I had spoken louder than I thought.

“You don’t have to.” Lamb’s voice was soft and even.

I turned over my shoulder and saw him still standing in the doorway where I had left him.

His expression wasn’t hurried or impatient. In fact, he looked no different now than he often did, just neutral. Standby.

“But,” Lamb said, lifting that bottle of whiskey back from his shirt, “a deal is a deal. No bath, no drink.”

“It is a shame humanity is not in your programming.” I sighed, giving up on my mental recess as I turned back towards the tub. “Best just get this over and done with.”

Maybe if I was quick, it would not feel that good. Or if I closed my eyes and pretended it was icy sewage water, I would not want more.

I doubted it.

I reached for the hem of my shirt, the soft, rich cotton of Lamb’s shirt rising up from my waist and—

“Aren’t you leaving?” I spun, eyes glowering over my shoulder.

Lamb leant against the doorway, arms over his chest, his calm brown eyes focused on my face. “No?”

“Leave,” I demanded, hands jumping back over my chest, holding the shirt firmly in place.

“No.”

“You are really going to stand there and watch me bathe?”

A sly smile tugged at his lips, and it sent heat across my cheeks long before I had even dipped a toe into the water.

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