Page 91 of Merciless

“You know I’m the man for the job, little dove.”

She studies me for a few seconds.

“I have conditions.”

I can’t help but laugh.

Of course cookies, a shower, and the promise of the best head she’s ever had isn’t enough. Oh, and not forgetting the notebook and pen I stole for her out of Reid’s office.

“Go on,” I encourage, curious as to what else she wants.

“If we’re showering, I want it done properly. I want conditioner for my hair, a razor and a toothbrush. And clean clothes”

I study her, trying to read in her eyes if she’s playing me.

Aside from wanting food, a shower, and quite clearly sex from the number of times I’ve watched her get herself off in the last few days, she seems entirely too happy to be down here. Much happier than the rest of our residents.

So what gives?

Surely, she can’t want to be down here.

I smile at her, having already expected all of this.

“Done. Let’s go.”

With her hand still locked in mine, I drag her out of her cell. Although there is no reluctance on her part, she happily skips along behind me, still munching on her cookie.

I flip the lock the second we’re in the bathroom. Not that it’ll do much good. If Reid appears and wants in then a flimsy lock won’t stop him.

My stomach knots in excitement at the thought of being caught.

He wants her; I know he does. It’s why he keeps warning me off.

He also wants to win. But fuck that.

I know I’m right. Alana reacts better to care than she does fear.

Without missing a beat, I reach behind my head to pull my tank off before folding it and placing it on the vanity. I have plans for that later. Really fucking good plans.

“I thought you were desperate for a shower, Dove,” I say, pausing with my thumbs tucked into the waistband of my sweats as she does nothing but stare.

“I-I am,” she stutters.

“Then you need to get naked.”

Ripping her eyes from me, albeit reluctantly, she walks to the vanity. “Teeth first.”

“Bottom cupboard,” I instruct, watching as she bends over and grabs what she needs.

The second the fresh minty toothpaste floods her mouth, her eyes shutter.

“Jesus, that shouldn’t be so hot,” I mutter, unable to stop myself.

“Sogood,” she mumbles around the toothbrush.

Walking behind her, she keeps her eyes on me as I lean into the shower and turn it on.

“It’s like you don’t trust me, little dove,” I say, finally shoving my sweats from my hips.

---