Page 30 of Filthy and Dirty with my Captors

“Do you shower with your clothes on?”

He shakes his head as though my comment is ridiculous, then turns away from me, rubbing his hands together as though he has something to say.

“Umm… everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he groans roughly. We haven’t bumped into each other since the spanking incident. I wonder if this has to do with that. “I needed to talk to you, and I figured you can’t get away if you’re in the tub.”

“Oh, so this is by force?” I love how intense everything is with Moose.

“No,” he growls. “It’s… just listen.”

“Okay, let me get cozy first. You can sit down by the way.”

His tone deepens. “Little girl…”

I smile at the frustrated sound of ‘little girl.’“I’m ready. Go.”

He huffs, pacing the room, though never making eye contact with me. “I don’t know how to do this shit.”

“What shit?”

“This talking shit.”

“Okay, but you’re here.”

“Are you listening?” He scrubs his hand over his beard.

I laugh. “Yeah, I’m listening. You know, whatever you have to say is fine. I’ll still think you’re a big, sexy, beast of a man, and I’ll still want all those spankings.”

He groans as though he’s annoyed, which sort of gets me off. “I like you, a lot. I… think about you, and it’s hard to focus on anything else, which isn’t a thing for me. I’m generally good at focusing.”

“Okay,” I try not to smile.

“Don’t talk yet. I’m not done.” His tone is forward and hard, and though it’s not the usual way I like people talking to me, I know his intensions, and my heart swells.

“I haven’t dated in a long time. It’s probably been a decade, so I don’t know how to say this right. I have no experience with this romance shit.”

“I think it’s pretty romantic that you came in here and sat with me.”

“No. Women like flowers, chocolate, and love notes. I’m not good at that stuff, that’s why my past relationships failed. I get it, but I don’t know,” he sighs loudly, “I think I’ve been looking for a woman who wants the same things I do. Comfort and peace.” He turns towards me. “When I met you, I realized it wasn’t that I didn’t have the capacity for romance before, it was that I hadn’t met the right woman yet. All the sudden, I want to pick flowers and say sappy shit, which is throwin’ me for a loop.”

A tear streaks down my cheek as I listen to Moose talk. It’s not easy for him to be vulnerable. “I can’t stop thinking about you either, and romance is pretty subjective. I’m not a flowers and chocolates kind of girl. I’m a, spend time with me and show me you care, girl.”

He stays quiet as though he’s trying to calculate the exact amount of pain this whole thing is going to cause him.

“How do you feel most loved?”

He shrugs and brushes his hand down over his beard as he paces. “I don’t know… helping me out, I guess. I’m always so fuckin’ busy. Anything that helps me work faster feels like love to me.”

“So, you like your dinner made and your house cleaned, and you need someone to come out and help with chores?”

“Yeah, but that’s sexist to ask for, right?”

“Why is that sexist? I want you to feel loved. I want to care for you, too.”

He glances toward me, then away again, but doesn’t speak. I wonder if he’s overthinking what to say next. Finally, he groans, “No woman is that simple.”

“I’m not simple,” I laugh. “I’m lying here trying to figure out how I feel for three men while I try to understand why the hell everyone hates the sheriff so much.”

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