Page 53 of The Devil We Know

Frankly, I don’t want to answer her. I want to have this short walk back to my quarters, pretending that nothing horrible is going to go on. That I’m not going to have to do anything to her that might make her question me as a person. That she won’t be put into a situation where she may question herself and everything she’s ever known.

I increase my pace until I’m practically dragging her down the hallway behind me. She still comes willingly, but I feel a bit of resistance, and just as soon as we reach my door. I waste no time kicking it open, pulling her inside and pushing her into the middle of the room as I slam the door behind me, locking it.

I turn back to her, and I haven’t taken more than two steps toward her before she puts her hands up defensively as she asks, “What are you doing?”

I continue walking toward her even as she’s backing up slowly and then more quickly, looking behind her so as not to run her into a wall, but the only place for her to go is the bathroom door, which is exactly where I want her to go anyway.

She backs up hurriedly, and I follow closely until she finds herself pressed up against the bathroom wall. I press myself against her.

She’s panting, and there’s a tremble in her bottom lip. Her eyes are wide as she stares at me and whispers, “What are you doing, Matt?”

I lean in close so I’m pressed against her from hip to chest, not even a hair’s breadth away from her lips, as I reply, “Shut your fucking mouth.”

Her breath catches, and I pull back a bit and see her frown, which makes me smile.

I move in closer, pressing my face into her neck, and then I just lean there, breathing slowly. And then I chuckle.

She rests her hands on my shoulders, most likely because she is unsure what to do with them, and after a moment, she asks, “What could possibly be funny right now?”

I shake my head, my words muffled against her neck as I reply, “Everything.”

She sighs, and her hands on my shoulders become heavier. She clutches at me.

I ease away from her, standing up straight, my hands circling her upper arms, yanking her off the wall. She yelps but doesn’t attempt to extricate herself from my arms, and I turn and hustle her toward the shower door.

I release her and say, “Don’t move.”

I walk over to the shower door, open it, and turn the water on before returning to her and stripping my shirt off my body. I quickly rid myself of my shoes and socks, my pants and underwear, until I’m standing there completely naked.

She’s eyeing me suspiciously, but she makes no move to escape, so I step into her again, this time pulling on her shirt until she allows me to remove it from her body.

I stoop to remove her shoes, and she rests her hands on my head, tangling her fingers in my hair, and then I’m pulling her pants down her hips, and she’s wiggling to assist me.

I rise to my feet, staring into her eyes as I say, “Can we just pretend none of this happened?”

She frowns as she says, “Pretend what didn’t happen?”

I laugh bitterly and then sigh, my hands coming up to my face and rubbing vigorously. I motion for her to enter the shower before me, quickly following behind and closing the door behind us. I push her into the hot spray of the water, saying nothing as I grab for the soap and a washcloth, quickly ridding her of the blood spatter I’m sure she doesn’t even realize is still on her person.

She giggles, and I stop the soapy path of the washcloth. I look up at her face and ask, “What’s so funny?”

She giggles again and then shrugs as she replies, “We keep meeting here like this.”

I frown, squinting at her until I remember the first time we met, and then I laugh. “Apparently, you like to get me naked and wet,” I reply dryly.

She laughs, sending a jolt of warmth down my spine.

I quickly finish cleaning her up and then make short work of cleaning myself. I move to turn the water off, but her hand on my arm stops me, and when I look at her, I see the naked need in her eyes.

She moves closer to me, and this time, I retreat, backing up one step and then two until I’m pressed against the cool shower wall.

She presses into me from hip to chest, and my breath catches in my throat. She rises up on her toes and brushes her lips against mine.

I don’t return her soft kiss. I just ask against her lips, “What are you doing?”

She pulls back the tiniest of a fraction as she replies, “You shut your fucking mouth.”

I frown, her words completely throwing me off, but before I can reply, she presses into me fully, rotating her hips so she’s rubbing firmly against my hard cock that’s pressed against her stomach.

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