Rugged Butcher by Celia Crown

Author:Celia Crown [Crown, Celia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-08-07T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Six

Tito

“You rude, shameless, crazy hooligan!”

I hear as I turn off the water, warm droplets slide down my body as the steam cools with a forced breeze after Lila skirts back. The drain moans dully, gurgling water down the pipe as I swipe a damp hand into my dry hair. The strands move to give me an unobstructed view of her fidgeting shadow on the wooden floor.

“This is the second time,” she complains, thrusting two fingers from behind the door frame.

Lila continues, “Twice I almost saw you naked, you hear me?”

I’m not deliberately hiding from her when I’m showering. We just never cross paths when it happens. Showering at night after she’s sleeping is the best time; the air gets colder to offset my high body heat under the hot water, and the sound of howling wind trickles into the wooden foundation to keep me company.

It’s a different type of peace than inhaling her sweet scent. I don’t prefer one over the other because I want them both. I can solve that if I take her into the shower with me.

Next time, I promise, nodding slightly.

Glancing down at the tub, I scan the space with a frown. I need a bigger one to fit her between my legs, so I can have her back on my chest and smell her by the neck. I wonder how flush her skin gets when she’s bare, waiting for my hands to trace the curves with no destination in mind.

Touching her supple skin distracts the bloodlust that’s always under mine, never fully going away despite Lila serving as a replacement for my adrenaline. Rather than a replacement, Lila is an addition to me. With the harrowing voices in my head, the urges to find my next prey are less insistent when she’s around.

I know it’s only a matter of time before the itch needs scratching.

A new hunting ground refreshes the thrill, and the chase will have more at stake. I don’t know the terrain, neither do my preys, so nobody has the home-based advantage.

“You won’t save any electricity by showering in the dark,” Lila mentions, still hiding by the frame. “Also, please close the door. I don’t want you to think I’m ogling you.”

Her voice climbs and breaks into a squeak. She coughs as if it’s to hide the strangled noise, her shadow showing her hands going up to her eyes.

“You probably don’t feel self-conscious,” she assumes loudly, “Not like you have anything to be embarrassed about. You’d beat the competition.”

Competition?

My head tilts along with the questioning hum in my ears. Water slides across my collarbone and trickles down my shoulder. I remember I have a wound there, and a cursory glance notes the final healing stage. Raw skin surrounds the pale scar that breaks apart the tattoo lines, and another silent moment to glance down my arm where the faded scars turn my obsidian ink gray.

“Think about me, your housemate,” she quips with a shaky breath, “I’m a blushing maiden. No royal suitor will take me as a wife if I see you naked.

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