Page 38 of His Trick

A soft sound jolted me, actually catching me off guard.

He was in the far stall next to the exit, tucked away from the rest of the wide open space and rows of showers.

I knew it before I saw him fully. His quiet demeanor and the way he stood too still in the steam.

I saw him walking back to Xanthy’s room in a towel earlier. Why was he here now?

I was like a cornered animal, watching and waiting to strike. Shiloh’s shoulders were clean from the blood and black markings now.

A map of taut muscle, while his dirty blond hair was slicked back against his neck. The water streaming down his back left a light that threw a halo effect around his profile. It softened him into something I hadn’t seen before.

In here, he wasn’t hiding. The tightness in his shoulders and neck released. He didn’t shed any light in the dark corners. He just…was.

He can’t hide when he’s burning for me.

Heat washed over me as I stepped under the stream, but I didn’t look at him. I kept my face forward. I didn’t let my eyes linger. I didn’t move toward him, just let the water simmer the burn out of my muscles, keeping my body turned away from him.

But he was looking.

Shiloh made a sound. It was quiet, a mix between a sigh and a huff. There was frustration, maybe even a question, but ultimately all I heard was a small war cry. I felt him shift. The air pressure changed as his wet footsteps moved closer.

I kept myself turned away, my fingers sudsing the grime of the night off my skin.

I could see him in my peripheral vision, watching as the water traced the path down my body. I let it be obvious I knew he was there, and I wasn’t going to look at him at all. I let him watch me deliberately look away.

He hated it, and I fucking loved seeing that fire.

I could see it in the cadence of his slightly faster breathing. I was going to go blind trying to study his body in my peripheral vision. The water made his silhouette more pronounced than the heavy costume. Each muscle on him was a statement. His hands clenched into fists.

He took a step, closing the distance between us. I felt the heat of him, but I stayed focused on the drain below my feet, watching the steady fall of the muddy, bloody water droplets.

I learned to control people in small increments so they didn’t know I was the one pulling the strings. Sometimes, a simple gaze withheld could be a map handed to a desperate man.

When I finally moved, it was slow and practiced—no sudden turns or showy acknowledgment. I simply reached for the soap, the bottle slick in my hands. The motion was more habitual than anything else.

I rubbed my hands together until my palms stung. The steam fogged the glass that was erected around the massive tiled floor. The world felt reduced to the hiss of the water, the thump of the intermittent music, and the suds of the soap on our bodies.

“Why are you—” he started, then stopped with a frustrated sigh.

His voice was low and uneven. It was the sound of someone trying not to break in public, even if this was a private facility.

I didn’t answer.

I didn’t give him that courtesy.

I could feel the need humming within him, raw and a little beautiful. He wanted something from me. Maybe attention or an apology? Ha. I was not a fucking charity for smiles and sorrys.

After all, sorry is only used to make the person apologizing feel better. It had fuck all to do with the one who actually deserved said apology.

Shiloh shifted again, closer this time, until the spray of my shower head hit his shoulders. The air changed with his proximity, tightening my skin. Unlike everyone else, I wasn’t afraid of him touching me.

In fact, I wanted him to.

He was watching me, waiting for the tiniest crack to give way. An opening for him to ask those burning questions. Maybe he thought I would look at him if he got into my space. Maybe he wanted to catch me off guard, to reclaim his grip on control, and make me vulnerable in a way I hadn’t anticipated.

Fuck me.

The silence of him being so close actually did affect me more than I wanted it to. Despite my cock hardening at the memories of his moans, I was also weirdly…warm.