Page 14 of Eyes in the Shadows
“No,” she replies too fast for it to be honest.
“Should I repeat the question?” I ask pointedly.
Her shoulders sag a little. “It’s… I have psoriasis. I had a flare up at work… that’s why I came back tonight, I was coming for the cream they prescribed me. I should have just picked up some cortisone.”
“That would have been much smarter,” I admonish, though I can’t bring myself to regret her bad decision.
“I know,” she says miserably. “It’s just that sometimes it itches so bad that it hurts and I can’t get any relief and I can’t sleep—”
I smile, amused that the overexplaining tic has returned. “Where is it?”
“What? You’re going to—you… uh,” she stops at my pointed look. “It’s in the cabinet in the bathroom. It’s the only thing in there.”
I find it easily enough, grabbing the twisted metal tube and then pausing on my way out to rectify the fact that I left the toilet seat up. I’m uncapping the cream when I stride back in, heading for the couch this time. “Where do you need it? Your knee?”
“I… you don’t have to do that.”
I sit next to her and she immediately slides away. I pat my thigh. “Legs.”
“What’s happening right now?”
She’s going to let me take this opportunity to get my hands on her, that’s what’s happening. “That wasn’t a request, Eleanor.” When she still doesn’t do as I instructed, I grab underneath her ankles and pull her legs as one restrained unit up into my lap.
“Please don’t,” she says as I start working the left foot hole underneath the zip tie I’d left there.
I’m satisfied when I don’t see the same rawness around her ankles that circled her wrists. Her legs are winter-bleached and stubbly, but the skin is just as silky and smooth as I remember it looking when she was wearing those tiny shorts.
Now that we’re closer, the air between us fills with her scent. She smells exactly like I knew she would. Her fragrance is a mix of a background of conflicting florals from her lotions and hair products, tangy sweat, various food smells, and something uniquely her own. It’s round, feminine, and mouthwatering. Just like her.
And then I realize I’m smelling her.
I’ve lost my goddamn mind.
I let my fingertips brush against her as I hike up the fabric of her sweatpants, going maybe a little too slowly for her comfort. But then she shivers a little, and presses her thighs together. I watch her work down a swallow and her eyes half-close as she zeroes in on my touch. Her lips part.
She’s getting fucking turned on.
And blood rushes to my cock. Jesus Christ. Knowing she wants me, too… I’m on the verge of making my own very bad decision. Well, another one, anyway.
“This is too weird,” she whispers.
I don’t think it was really for me, but I have to agree with her assessment. I’m a fucking sniper—calm and collected is in the job description—but she’s getting under my skin.
As I get the pant leg up over her knee, she squirms a little and the friction really doesn’t help my resolve. “Stop,” I grind out, gripping both her legs tighter. “You’re going to be a good girl and let me do this.”
Her eyes meet mine and the rawness I see there makes me want to dive right into her. I want to drown myself in those clear blue pools, lose myself in those pillowy lips, suffocate in the softness of her until I forget how hard I have to be.
“Why?” she rasps.
It’s not ‘why should I do what you say?’ but it’s a lot of other things. A ‘why me,’ a ‘why is this happening,’ definitely a ‘why are you doing this,’ and maybe even a ‘why doI feel this way.’
“Because,” I say, mentally finishing withyou’re mine.
It’s an odd thought, not one I’ve ever really had before, and I’m not so far gone that I can objectively recognize it as one I shouldn’t say out loud. She doesn’t know me. I don’t know her, even though I feel like I do. But that’s only because I’ve been in her apartment for two days, going through her stuff.
That has to be it.
I can easily see the flare up she was talking about. The skin is angry, inflamed, patchy red with little white bumps. It’s probably killing her right now. She shrinks away when I get the pants up high enough. I reach out to run my fingertips over it, hoping the cool touch will soothe her.
