Page 150 of The Slayer
Thank God for small miracles.
There was also soap, shampoo, and conditioner, but she voted out washing her hair as she tossed her shoes and the hoodie aside and got into the shower. Especially when she discovered for the first time just how shocking an ice-cold shower was.
She couldn’t help but gasp at the feel of it. She instinctively backed away, flattening herself against the shower wall. She just stood there in the darkness shivering, trying to will up the nerve to duck under the water and get clean.
She was never getting to sleep after this.
The chaotic outside noise and her raw nerves were enough, but this icy water made her feel like she was going to stay awake forever. She unwrapped the soap as she worked on her courage, and then tossed the wrapper on the window ledge.
Who put a window in a shower?
Must be a Florida thing, because that was just weird, even if it was frosted. She was contemplating it when the bathroom door opened.
“Chu?”
“Yeah,” he said as he walked in. “Are you okay? You keep squeaking like that, and Tino will burst in here looking for rats.”
“I’m sorry I woke you. I know you needed sleep.” She was still shivering. “This water is freezing.”
“Did you go downstairs?” he asked, obviously spying her bag on the sink. The bathroom lit up with dull light, making it obvious he had clicked on his phone. “Without me?”
“It was fine.” Alaine knew he was worried about Nova. “I think he’s harmless. More bark than bite.”
“He’snotharmless,” he said over the thump of him kicking up the toilet seat.
“You’re putting your foot on that? I sit there, Chu. Do you do that in my apartment?”
He snorted. “You sat on this?”
“I hovered, but still.” She turned toward the water, knowing she had to get it over with eventually. The cold hit her like a thousand knives, and she gasped. “Oh my God! Oh my God!” He flushed the toilet, and she shivered again. “I think you just made it colder.”
“You can’t make unheated water colder.” He pulled open the glass door and stepped in with her, taking the bulk of the spray. “¡Puñeta, esta agua esta fria!”
“This is a low,” she choked out when Chuito pulled her to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, both of them using body heat to combat the cold water. “I feel like this is a low in our relationship.”
“De veras,” he said with a snort of laughter. “This is almost rock bottom, mami.”
She nodded and started laughing too. “Almost.”
The two of them cracked up, and somehow that made it easier.
They washed up, fast but thorough. Alaine was learning how to swear real quick and getting more creative by the moment as she rinsed off. She recognized several choice Spanish words from Chuito, most specifically, “¡Maldita sea la madre que te parió!”
That she was fairly certain translated into something highly inappropriate in regard to someone’s mother. Not nice, but she understood, especially when they jumped out and had no towel. Chuito grabbed his hoodie off the sink where she had abandoned it before the shower.
“Put it on,” he said as he tossed it at her.
Alaine didn’t complain; she slipped her wet arms into it, still shivering as she tried to recover. Thank God the weather in Miami was so warm for October, or they’d be really miserable. They curled up together on the sheetless bed, which Alaine was pretty sure just undid all the hard work of that cold shower. Face-to-face with Chuito, Alaine opened the hoodie, sharing it with him. He slipped his arms around her so that they were tangled together, his hard, wet body against her soft one. They kissed as a distraction, and it was better than the hoodie at warming them up.
She liked the way Chuito felt under her fingers, all wet and slick, glistening in the moonlight. She indulged her fantasies, touching his beautiful body that had taunted her dreams as much as her reality for so long.
When she sucked on one small, flat nipple, he grunted and threaded his fingers in her hair. She suddenly needed to hear him. The bed groaned when she pushed him back against the mattress, and Alaine draped herself over him. She worshipped him with fervor, kissing the stars on his shoulders, the ones that branded him a thief, until she moved lower. She licked at the ridges of his stomach muscles, tracing the letters of his Slayer tattoo, done in black, Old English letters.
Now she understood it wasn’t just a fighter name.
It was a warning.
And Chuito let her touch it rather than push her away. He lay there, exposed to her, and let her love him for what he was. She stroked him as she licked his tattoo, marveling not for the first time at how thick his cock was.
