“I—” She hesitated for a long minute.
“It’s much too late for shy now, baby.” Her modesty still turned me on. Despite all she had been through, she could still be innocent with me. In the bed, though, it was a total role reversal—a kitten to a feral cat.
“I know. I—can we try to…”
“Tell me.”
“Here, I mean. A new beginning.”
“You want me to make love to you here.”
“Yes,” she breathed out, relieved that I said it for her. Her cheeks were flaming, in high contrast to the blue pearl makeup. “I didn’t think you’d be so soft about it. I expected blunt.”
“I can do that.” I entwined our fingers together, leaning in, whispering in her ear—her face flamed like a torch in the moody darkness. “I’ll write the words in scarlet letters, if you want to read them, too.”
Scarlett almost snorted. “But what would the—”
I bent down and kissed her, taking her by surprise. I wasn’t sure how receptive she’d be, given the history of these walls, but she threw her arms around my neck, attaching herself to me like an over-eager jellyfish giving over to the warmth of the sea.
We came apart with a noise that reminded me of a suction cup. She came in again, but I stopped her.
“Not here, Scarlett.”
“What?”
“Let’s leave this place for what it is. A place to dance. That’s the new start.”
She nodded, eager. “I like that idea. An exorcism.”
I almost laughed. “Good.” I cupped each of her ass cheeks, soft and cool, overflowing out of the leotard, giving her another kiss. “Get dressed. Let’s go home.”
* * *
Once home, Scarlett ran into the kitchen—to heat something up, she said over her shoulder. Mitch was on the sofa watching an old movie.
For someone who just had two new members added to his family, he seemed distracted. He faced the television, light brightening and then dimming in intervals, but he didn’t seem to be watching it.
I called to Scarlett to meet me in our bathroom after she was done. I was going to get the water started for a bath. The mirror caught me before I could get to it. Most of her blue pearl makeup had rubbed off on me.
She’d try to scrub it off with one of her scented washes or creams. I removed my hoodie, my hat, my shirt, and then took matters into my own hands and used water, plain soap, and a washcloth.
“Brando?”
“It’s coming off.”
“Helloooo…”
I turned to her, cloth still to my face, just as the lights shut off and one candle made the room glow.
She had nothing on but black lace. She held a jar of melted chocolate in one of her hands. She stirred it, giving me a hint of a smile, her thick lashes fanning down.
“Want some, Signor Fausti?”
She removed the spoon, letting the chocolate drip like wax, and then licked, running her tongue slowly up. She gasped when my body pinned hers against the counter, my arms on either side of her.
“Ooh,” she said, blinking up at me. “You do.”
Licking her lips clean, she went in a second time, bringing the spoon close to my mouth. But instead of feeding it to me, she flicked it at my chest. Lines of it marked me like a tiger.
