Skin of a Sinner: A Dark Childhood Best Friends Romance(70)

Which, obviously, goes straight to my ego. There are only two reasons I’m willing to accept why she’s happy to stay in my arms. Firstly, she loves me and never wants to leave me. Secondly, I fucked her so well that she, again, never wants to leave me. I’m not even going to entertain the possibility that it’s just because she’s tired.

I’m a pessimist by trade but an optimist when it comes to her. She called me a name for it once: “delusional.” I called it being a “realist.” We agree to disagree and all that. I don’t like labels, whether from her, Margaret, or Arthur, the prison shrink.

“I can walk,” Bella argues.

The bubble bursts.

I hold back a sigh and the retort on the tip of my tongue and settle with, “Shut up.”

She’s still a bit sensitive about the whole murder and kidnapping thing, which makes sense, I guess. So I have to go easy on her and shower her with pretty words so she doesn’t see blood in the foreseeable future.

Unlikely.

But as I said, I’m an optimist when it comes to her.

How long would it take for someone to get over that? Like, two days? Three? She never used the safe word; at least she isn’t mad at me anymore. Which makes her constant need to fight irritating—

Oh.

I chuckle to myself as I open the door. So this is how she feels whenever I get us into trouble using that beautiful word starting with ‘V.’ Not vagina, violence.

“Don’t tell me to shut up,” she mumbles, lacking the usual anger she carries around with her nowadays.

“Hmm? I seem to recall you being pretty compliant just minutes ago.”

Her cheeks redden. “I wasn’t.”

Again, with the combativeness.

I head for the bathroom and will my cock to settle because the big guy knows that we’re about to see our princess naked again. What a sight that is.

“Would you like me to refresh your memory on what a good girl you were for me?” Shit. This is just a recipe to make me harder. “You ran when I told you, moaned my name, begged me to fuck you, came on my—”

“Okay, okay. I get your point,” she interrupts my list. I finish saying the rest in my head.

Slowly, I lower her onto the bathroom floor, her clothes ripped and muddy. The newly installed faucet—thanks, Google—hisses and sputters for a few seconds before water fills the tub.

I turn back to Bella and the weary stare she’s sporting. “Strip,” I order.

Her big doe eyes turn to saucers. “What? No, I can bathe myself.”

“That wasn’t my question? In fact, I don’t recall asking one. Now strip.”

She crosses her arms over her chest protectively, rather than in defiance. A blush pairs with her discomfort. Maybe that’s her new nickname, Blushing Bella.

No, I don’t like it. The alliteration doesn’t sound right in my head. I’ll stick with the ones I already gave her.

I smirk. “Don’t get shy on me now. I just had you naked with your tits in my mouth.”

I’m not sure how Bella became a prude when she grew up with me by her side. I didn’t expect her to splutter like she’s trying to find the right words to scold me.

“If you need convincing about whether your body is quite literally the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, I suggest you look away from my eyes and farther south.” There’s no point trying to hide the bulge; it's not like I can get it down anyway.

Now that I know what she feels like, being alone with Bella anywhere will make it hard to function.

She stills when she does exactly what I suggested. “Aren’t you tired?” she gasps.

“Spread your legs and find out.”

Bella shudders like the thought physically pains her. I don’t have a virgin kink, but fuck, seeing her blood on me was enough to do me in.

Deflating, she says, “You’re not going to leave, are you?”

“Did I give you the impression that I might?”

It irks me that she doesn’t grace me with a response—like she’s not just physically tired, but also tired of me.

She mutters something under her breath and starts undressing. By some unknown power of inner strength, I manage to stop myself from pulling up the stool just to watch her remove her clothes and instead rummage around the cupboards for something that says serum or bath explosion—I don’t know. Whatever they call the stuff they put into bathtubs to make it all bubbly and shit. Is it just soap? Fuck if I know. It’s not like I’ve had the fortune to take a bath with Bella before.

I find a little bottle of oil I stole from Millie and put a couple of drops into the water. Followed by soap.

Bella barely gives me a chance to admire her naked body before she practically jumps into the tub, hugging her knees to her chest. The water sloshes around her, a thousand tiny bubbles popping against her tan skin.

Reaching behind my head, I pull my shirt off and shuck my pants to the side. She whips around, eyes almost falling out of her head as she shrieks, “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” The hot water burns my skin when I step in, but I grit my teeth and pretend it’s just right.

“No! You can take a bath after.” She goes to the other end of the tub, where the tap water runs down her back, so she’s as far from me as she can possibly go. When will she learn that fighting me is useless?