Page 80 of The Dead Don’t Scream
She drops the ruined lace onto the counter.
“I came back.”
The words strike somewhere I have kept protected for years. Sloane rises onto her toes. I lower my head. Our mouths meet. She tastes like Dante’s chocolate and Callum’s hunger. Her kiss is softer than the one she gave either of them but no less deliberate. My hands remain at my sides. Sloane pulls back.
“Touch me.”
“You’re sore.”
“That wasn’t permission to ignore me.”
I place both hands on her waist.
“Here?”
“For now.”
Her smile brushes my mouth.
“You really need instructions for everything.”
“I need to know what you want.”
“What do you want?”
“You.”
“How?”
“Safely.”
“That isn’t sexy.”
“It will be.”
Her eyes darken. Dante calls from upstairs.
“Water’s hot, towels are clean, and I found the good soap.”
Sloane takes my hand.
“Show me.”
DANTE
Our shower was designed for three grown men who occasionally return from the maze covered in mud and fake blood. It wasn’t designed for dignity. Sloane stands beneath the rainfall shower head with water streaming through her hair and down the curves of her body. Rhys is behind her. Callum stands to her left. I’m trying not to fall to my knees.
“Stop staring,” she says.
“No.”
“You’ve already seen everything.”
“I’m checking for changes.”
“Find any?”
“Your ass looks better in daylight.”
