only the first words that came to her mind. “What are their names?”
She expected him to resist. She expected him to tell her no. He was a good man, a Christian man. He was supposed to forgive the men who hurt him. Turn the other cheek. “I wrote a list,” he said with his robot voice.
“Good,” she sighed. “Did you include their current addresses?”
“Yes.” She nodded, and her cheek rubbed against the denim of his jeans. She was sure, by now, they were soaking wet from her own tears. And she thought, perhaps, she knew what fate had in mind.
Chapter Eleven
“If you leave me in here, I’m going to shrivel up like a prune!” Argento called out through the door. The water was off; at least he’d remembered he wasn’t an invalid.
She patted Jordan’s knee and stood to take care of her other broken misfit. He had pulled the curtain open, and his man parts were modestly covered with the towel. But his legs were not, and they were just as glorious as his torso. “Do all guys look like you,” she wondered as she stared.
“You’re kidding, right?” He offered her his hand to help him up, but instead she took a towel off the rack.
“Why do you need me in here for this,” she asked as he grabbed a hand rail on the other side of the shower and pulled himself up.
“I didn’t need you, I just wanted you.” The towel fell to the shower floor, and he was indeed wearing boxers. They may have been modest when dry, but wet the thin material clung to everything and left nothing to the imagination. She closed her eyes quickly and held the towel out in front of him. “I thought I told you that last night.”
He wrapped the towel around his hips and reached out for her, but she ducked and escaped. She felt bad about Argento sleeping in the chair last night, and his injuries tonight, so she slid into it and tried to get comfortable. At least the heater kept her warm.
Jordan already lay on his back in his bed, just as he did the previous night. She was fairly sure he was not asleep. Argento entered the room loudly, turned on the lights, and searched in his bag for clean clothes. He found what he was looking for, and dropped the towel in the middle of the room. His backside rivaled his front for most amazing thing she’d ever seen. His buttocks were round and firm at the same time. She stared until he turned around.
“You can sleep in the bed,” he announced loudly. He must have guessed Jordan wasn’t asleep, or he just didn’t care.
“You’re injured, and you slept here last night,” she argued. “I’ll be fine.”
“You’re not fine, let me,” he said. He was right in front of her, and she looked up to find him dressed, again, in sweats and a t-shirt. It should be a criminal offense to be so hot. “Come on, princess,” he said as he bent over to pick her up. He carried her, resisting, toward the beds. But instead of depositing her on the empty bed, he placed her beside Jordan. “There, now everyone’s happy.”
Jordan turned toward her, and she smiled at him weakly. But he didn’t respond in kind. Frustration found her again, at his stubborn jealousy. She didn’t want Argento, she wanted to scream at him. But she didn’t want to lie. She didn’t know if she wanted him or not. She rolled over onto her side, facing away from him, and saw Argento staring at her again. “Good night,” she whispered, and closed her eyes.
“If anyone talks before morning, I’m shooting them myself,” Argento stated again. She guessed he wasn’t much of a good night kind of guy. She wondered what he said to the people whom he had sex with: great now get out? She chuckled to herself, and he shushed her loudly. There were times when she thought he wasn’t good looking enough to put up with all his shit, and then she realized she was delusional. She fell asleep with a smile on her face.
She woke up in the middle of the night, and she thought she was in an olive press. Then she felt
She expected him to resist. She expected him to tell her no. He was a good man, a Christian man. He was supposed to forgive the men who hurt him. Turn the other cheek. “I wrote a list,” he said with his robot voice.
“Good,” she sighed. “Did you include their current addresses?”
“Yes.” She nodded, and her cheek rubbed against the denim of his jeans. She was sure, by now, they were soaking wet from her own tears. And she thought, perhaps, she knew what fate had in mind.
Chapter Eleven
“If you leave me in here, I’m going to shrivel up like a prune!” Argento called out through the door. The water was off; at least he’d remembered he wasn’t an invalid.
She patted Jordan’s knee and stood to take care of her other broken misfit. He had pulled the curtain open, and his man parts were modestly covered with the towel. But his legs were not, and they were just as glorious as his torso. “Do all guys look like you,” she wondered as she stared.
“You’re kidding, right?” He offered her his hand to help him up, but instead she took a towel off the rack.
“Why do you need me in here for this,” she asked as he grabbed a hand rail on the other side of the shower and pulled himself up.
“I didn’t need you, I just wanted you.” The towel fell to the shower floor, and he was indeed wearing boxers. They may have been modest when dry, but wet the thin material clung to everything and left nothing to the imagination. She closed her eyes quickly and held the towel out in front of him. “I thought I told you that last night.”
He wrapped the towel around his hips and reached out for her, but she ducked and escaped. She felt bad about Argento sleeping in the chair last night, and his injuries tonight, so she slid into it and tried to get comfortable. At least the heater kept her warm.
Jordan already lay on his back in his bed, just as he did the previous night. She was fairly sure he was not asleep. Argento entered the room loudly, turned on the lights, and searched in his bag for clean clothes. He found what he was looking for, and dropped the towel in the middle of the room. His backside rivaled his front for most amazing thing she’d ever seen. His buttocks were round and firm at the same time. She stared until he turned around.
“You can sleep in the bed,” he announced loudly. He must have guessed Jordan wasn’t asleep, or he just didn’t care.
“You’re injured, and you slept here last night,” she argued. “I’ll be fine.”
“You’re not fine, let me,” he said. He was right in front of her, and she looked up to find him dressed, again, in sweats and a t-shirt. It should be a criminal offense to be so hot. “Come on, princess,” he said as he bent over to pick her up. He carried her, resisting, toward the beds. But instead of depositing her on the empty bed, he placed her beside Jordan. “There, now everyone’s happy.”
Jordan turned toward her, and she smiled at him weakly. But he didn’t respond in kind. Frustration found her again, at his stubborn jealousy. She didn’t want Argento, she wanted to scream at him. But she didn’t want to lie. She didn’t know if she wanted him or not. She rolled over onto her side, facing away from him, and saw Argento staring at her again. “Good night,” she whispered, and closed her eyes.
“If anyone talks before morning, I’m shooting them myself,” Argento stated again. She guessed he wasn’t much of a good night kind of guy. She wondered what he said to the people whom he had sex with: great now get out? She chuckled to herself, and he shushed her loudly. There were times when she thought he wasn’t good looking enough to put up with all his shit, and then she realized she was delusional. She fell asleep with a smile on her face.
She woke up in the middle of the night, and she thought she was in an olive press. Then she felt
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