Page 65 of Scavenger's Oath
"You’re staying?" she asks, hesitant.
My eye twitches.
"What, you think I’m gonna leave you to escape? Don’t be naïve. You have ten minutes. Try not to waste water." As much as I’d love to let her escape, Myles would never forgive me, and he’d have us all out hunting for her until we caught her again.
She studies me, quiet, then nods and reaches for the hem of her shirt.
I don’t move.
She fiddles with the fabric nervously. "Are you gonna turn around? Or watch me the whole time like yesterday?"
I grind my teeth. She’s got a smart mouth for someone so dependent on our scraps. "Fine."
Facing the lockers, with my jaw tight, my hands curl into fists at my sides. The sound of fabric rustling behind me tightens every nerve in my spine.
The soft pad of her bare feet on the tile comes next. Then the pipes groan and water splashes. She gasps as the cold water hits her skin.
Did I forget to mention the water takes a minute to get warm?Such a shame.
Hell, who am I kidding? I didn’t forget.And it brings me so much satisfaction to know that she was blasted by that icy water.
Before long, steam fills the hollow room, a soap scent rising with it.
Water splashes lightly with her movement. Gentle. And my mind begins to fill in the blanks as I stare at the dented lockers in front of me.
Water running over her flushed skin and—
No. Stop.
Just as I’m getting my thoughts reigned in, she sighs.Moans. Soft. Absentminded. As if she’s alone. As if I’m not standing ten feet away with my blood running molten.
That sound—fuck, it’s a goddamn siren call.
My cock responds instantly. The tension coiling low in my gut. I shift slightly, trying to readjust without making a sound.
Don’t turn. Don’t look.
I last about thirty seconds
Then glance over my shoulder.
Water cascades down every inch of her, tracing every curve. Dripping over her ample breasts, sliding down her toned stomach, curving over her hips and dipping between her thighs. The delicate arch of her back forces her chest forward, nipples tight from the pressure of the spray.
Holy-fucking-shit.
She’s a fucking vision.
No. Not a vision.
A weapon.
Because everything in me wants to close the distance and touch her. Take her.
But I grit my teeth, force my eyes away. Focus on the rust-flaked metal in front of me. Cold. Rough. Unforgiving. Like I need to be.
Disciplined.
Even if my cock’s like fucking stone. Hands shaking. The need hitting me hard. I want to move. But I don’t.I’m in control.
