Glancing around, I look for something to use as a weapon.
Well, first, I need something to pick this lockand thena weapon.
I pull my toothbrush from my pocket, turning it in my hand and wishing it’d morph into a knife.
Even if it did, do I even have the balls to kill him?
Knowing me, like everything else I’ve done so far, I’ll fail.
Then, he’ll kill me.
Positive that killing him isn’t in my plans for tonight, I turn my focus back to the shower.
I can’t kill him right now. So might as well enjoy the view.
I lick my lips, unable to tear my eyes away as the muscles in his arms tense while he washes his hair. It’s like I’m in some daze, and I feel like a total creep that my mouth is practically salivating for him.
I’m so wrapped up in him that I’m not sure how much time passes before he turns off the water. He steps out of the shower and tugs the towel off the hook, and I pretend to block my eyes from the view, peeking through my fingers.
I perk up, telling myself this isn’t ogling. This is surveillance.
I’m studying my target for weak areas.
Though one weak area is definitely not what’s between his legs.
Holy shit.
Even with his cock not fully erect, he’s huge.
The longer I stare, the harder and thicker it gets.
He knows I’m checking him out.
I’m a wife, attracted to her husband; that’s not out of the ordinary.
The problem is, my husband is crazy, and we want to kill each other.
He hurriedly dries off and ties the towel around his waist. “Your turn.”
I jerk my arm up. “I can’t exactly shower with cuffs on.”
He grabs his pants from the floor and pulls a key from the pocket. Taking two long strides in my direction, he kneels in front of me and unlocks the handcuff. I dramatically shake out my hand and rub it like it’s in pain.
As I stand, he does the same, taking a step back to give me room to walk around him. He backs up against the door, as if blocking it, as I turn on the shower.
Crossing my arms, I glare at him. “Do you plan to stay in here and watch me?”
“You watched me,” he fires back.
“Is that you giving me permission to handcuff you to the radiator as well?”
He motions for me to get in the shower. “I’ll get dressed while you shower. Don’t worry, I won’t eye fuck you like you did me.”
“That wasn’t eye fucking. That wasmurder glaringfor being held captive.”
I swear, for a moment, I notice him fighting back a smile, like the idea of me killing him is hilarious. He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, but doesn’t move from his spot blocking the door.
With a groan, I turn off the shower, step inside to undress, and throw my clothes out.
