I glance at the golden lights and chic furniture. “It’s lovely, Dor; learn to appreciate some goddamn beauty in this world.” I walk over to the frost-white wardrobe and push aside its sliding door. “Whoa.” My mouth hangs open at the elegant collection of ironed shirts and pants hung from the wardrobe’s wooden hangers. “Pick a color.”
“Aren’tyouthe fashion expert?”
I smile. “True.” Grabbing an olive-green satin shirt and a pair of black pants, I turn and wiggle them at him.
“That’s a nice set,” he says, impressed.
“The power ofluxury,” I tease.
He scoffs and shakes his head, then goes to take the clothes from me, but I step back and move them out of his grasp.
“Clean up first, you filthy animal.”
He lets go of a surprised laughter. “You’re such a menace.”
I flash my teeth at him. “Tell me something I don’t know, babe.” Dropping the hangers on the plush bed, I make my way to the bathroom. One quick scan of the room, and I can’t help but laugh, because if the outside was beautiful, then the bathroom – it’s fuckingopulent.
With an ivory-tiled floor, a white ceiling with circular LED lights adorning it, and the estate’s signature black-stone walls, the bathroom looks polished and modern. There’s a shower area with a glass door to the very inside of the room, and adjacent to it is a long counter, accented with oakwood and white marble. Shiny silver faucets are set up on it, with pale sinks under them. There’s a rectangular tray – also white – between the sinks, which holds a couple of soaps, a bottle of handwash, some toothbrushes, and a tube of toothpaste. Two oval mirrors with wooded borders are hung directly above the counter, with a small, golden bulb installed atop both of them.
“Jesus,” Dorran whispers as he enters the bathroom. “Do they hold photoshoots in here or somethin’? Because they should.”
“We should take some inspiration from this and redesign our condo’s bathroom,” I say, pursing my lips.
He gives me a subtle scowl. “Absolutelynot.”
I laugh. “Oh, it’ssomuch fun getting these reactions out of you,” I all but sing.
His scowl deepens as he steps in front of a sink. “You’re a pain in my ass.”
I place my clutch on the counter, then push back the sleeves of his turtleneck all the way up to his elbows. “You love it, though,” I state, smirking when he meets my eyes.
“It’s a habit, so I’m unfortunately bounded to it,” he retorts, returning my smirk.
I shove him a little. “Wash up, asshole.”
He chuckles and places his bloody hands, along with his soiled switchblade under the faucet. “Dirtying up luxury is sosatisfying,” he muses, watching as the water turns red, staining the porcelain.
I would have argued with him about it, but I’m fully lost in the way the tainted droplets drip down the veins on the back of his hand, and how his forearms flex when he rubs the pads of his long fingers over his sharp blade in order to clean it. The muscles on his bicep and shoulder quirk with each of his firm movements, and I can’t help but ask myself: how, on God’s demented earth, can a man lookthishot whilewashing his hands? Just…how?
“Cigs?”
I blink and look up, meeting his smug face and gleaming eyes. “What?”
“Soap, please.” He knows exactly what he does to me, and the dipshit revels in it like it’s nobody’s business.
I grab the bottle of handwash and squirt some of the translucent liquid into his palms, then put it back in its place before clearing my throat. “Make sure to wash between your fingers as well,” I say, then wipe the sweat off my upper lip. Wait, why the hell am I flustered?
“Uh huh,” Dorran responds, enjoying my current state.
Fuck my life.
“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” I ask.
“What, washing blood and gore off my skin? No, baby; I’m doing it because it’s the most reasonable thing to do.” He gives me an innocent smile, which does absolutelynothingto calm me the fuck down.
“If I wasn’t so taken by you, I’d have smashed the bottle of handwash in your face,” I tell him. “Did I mention it’s a glass bottle? Yeah, it’s a glass bottle, so you bet your ass it’d hurt.”
“You’re so violent tonight,” he says around an airy laugh.
