There Is No Devil (Sinners Duet, #2)(4)

Sensing this, Cole steps inside the shower. He drops to his knees in front of me, closing his hand over mine on the showerhead, locking my fingers in place. He points the spray right where he wants it and holds it there as the heat and pressure rises.

His trousers are drenched, as well as his expensive Italian loafers. Cole barely notices. For all his perfectionism, Cole is a pleasure-seeker just like me. He wants what he wants, and he’s willing to pay for it.

Right now he wants to make me cum, and he doesn’t give a fuck what clothes he ruins.

“You’ve done this before,” he growls.

“Yes,” I gasp.

“Is this how you learned to cum? In the bath, spreading your legs under the faucet?”

I press my lips together, hating how he uses sex to dig information out of me. Hating how arousal makes me weak.

Cole brings the showerhead closer, until it’s only an inch from my pussy, until the pounding spray is almost unbearable. He wraps the rope of my wet hair around his hand and jerks my head back, growling in my ear, “Admit it, you dirty girl. You were taking baths to cum, not to get clean.”

“Fuck being clean,” I snarl. “I’ll sleep in a dumpster if I feel like it.”

Cole’s chuckle is what tips me over—rich and wicked, vibrating down to my bones. “I know you would, you little psychopath.”

The orgasm is as hot and pounding as the shower spray. My lungs fills with steam. My skin blushes redder than rose petals.

When I’m panting against the wall, limp and loose, Cole orders, “Stay right there. Don’t move a muscle.”

I couldn’t even if I wanted to.

Cole exits the shower to retrieve something from his drawers. He’s not rummaging—his toiletries are so perfectly organized that it only takes him a moment to gather what he needs.

He returns seconds later, carrying shaving cream and a straight razor.

“I can shave myself,” I inform him.

“Not as well as I can.”

It annoys me how true that is. Even though I’m pretty fucking good with my hands, I still can’t match Cole in precision. He’s a machine, if a machine had a soul. Or part of a soul, at least.

I lean back against the wall, thighs open, pussy swollen and flushed from the hot spray. It’s deeply thrilling to offer him access to my most vulnerable parts.

My heart races as he flips open the razor, clearing the gleaming steel blade from its bone handle.

“Hold this for me,” he says, pressing the handle into my palm.

I close my fingers around it, looking at the cruel edge of the blade, thinner and sharper than any knife.

Cole kneels before me. He squeezes a puff of shaving cream onto his palm, then gently massages it over my bikini line. His cheek is only inches from the razor, his neck exposed as he tilts his head for a better view.

I could cut his throat right now.

Cole spreads the shaving cream all across my pussy and upper thighs. It feels thick and cool after the heat of the water.

“Are you wondering what it would feel like?” he says in his smooth, low voice.

I grip the handle so hard that it bites into my palm.

“You’re wondering if you could do it quick enough to surprise me. Could you cut me deep enough that I couldn’t fight back? If you got me in the right place, one slash would be enough …”

I shake my head so vigorously that it bumps against the stone wall.

“No. I wasn’t thinking that.”

Cole closes his hand over mine again, but this time he’s forcing me to grip the razor instead of a showerhead. Forcing me to brandish it between us. He looks up into my face, his dark eyes locked on mine.

“When the time comes … don’t hesitate. You’re never going to be the biggest or the strongest in the fight. You have to be the most ruthless. You’ll only get one cut, so make it count.”

Who does he imagine I’m going to be fighting?

Shaw … or him?

I twist my wrist away from Cole, dropping the razor on the shower floor.

“I told you—I’m not going to hurt anyone.”

Cole ignores the razor, only looking at me.

“Oh really? And what do you plan to do about Shaw, then?”

“I don’t know,” I say through gritted teeth. “Find some evidence. Get his ass tossed in jail where he belongs.”

Cole makes a contemptuous sound that hits me worse than a slap.

“You’re not going to find evidence. You go near Shaw without me right next to you, and all you’ll find is your head on a beach.”

I glare at him. “You want me to think there’s only one way this can end.”

“No. There’s two ways: Shaw dies, or we do.”

Cole is trying to drag me down this path I don’t want to travel. At the same time, I can’t help feeling perversely comforted that he said “we” instead of “you.” Cole thinks we’re in this together. And honestly, nothing terrifies me more than the thought of facing Shaw alone.

I want Cole right next to me. But I can’t see how we’ll ever agree on what we should do.

Plucking up the razor, Cole makes a tsking sound.

“Now I have to sharpen this again.”

He returns to the counter to bring out his leather strop. He moves swiftly, aggressively. Snapping the leather taught and drawing the blade down the grain with a vicious purr. The steam ebbs out of the shower. A chill runs down my spine instead.