Tall, Silent & Lethal (Pyte/Sentinel #4)(67)

He took her hand in his and gently placed it back where he’d had it, hanging over the tub before he continued washing her hair. At least, that’s what she’d assumed he was doing. He shifted by the side of the tub where he knelt and if her hand hadn’t been killing her, and she wasn’t starving and struggling to ignore the mouthwatering aroma that Christofer was giving off, she’d probably be able to appreciate just how good he looked in those black boxer shorts.

God, did he look good, so good, that all she wanted to do was to run her hands over him, caressing his skin as she mapped out every delicious muscle. She wanted to lick every square inch of his body, starting with that happy trail of dark blond hair that disappeared beneath his shorts and end with the spot on his neck that she constantly found herself staring at as she tried not to lick her lips, the spot where she could see his pulse beating just beneath the skin. Her stomach growled loud enough to draw her attention away from his neck and back to her biggest problem.

She needed to escape and ummmm, and…..ummmm……….

God, he smelled soooo good! Licking her lips, she allowed her gaze to drift back towards his neck, but the realization of what she was doing and thinking had her quickly shifting her attention back to the soapy water and squeezing her eyes tightly shut. She counted to ten and when that didn’t help, she counted to a hundred all while she tried to convince herself that the mouthwatering aroma that was assaulting her senses was coming from a double cheeseburger with the works and a side of crinkly fries and not from the man that was pouring more soapy water into her eyes and that she had every reason in the world to hate.

“Your hand will heal as soon as you drink some blood,” Christofer softly explained even as he poured more of that soapy water that was stinging her eyes over her head.

Annoyed, she moved to open her eyes to glare at him as she told him exactly where he could shove his advice, but was instantly forced to squeeze her eyes shut and squeal as a full cup of soapy water was poured over her face. It seeped into her eyes, causing her to do a combination of gasping and cringing as she frantically tried to wipe soap out of her eyes. She opened her mouth to ask for a towel so that she could wipe her face, but unfortunately, Christofer had chosen that moment to turn the shower on.

At full blast, making her squeal as she was hit with ice cold water.

“Shit!” Christofer groaned as he, thankfully, shut the shower off.

“Could I-abadowel?” she started to ask, only to have the rest of her question muffled as Christofer pressed a large, fluffy towel against her face and proceeded to smother her.

“What the hell are you doing?” she demanded, pretty sure that he was trying to kill her as she somehow managed to push his hands away.

His frown was not adorable! she told herself with a glare as she snatched the towel out of his hands. When he went to help her with the towel, self-preservation kicked in and she slapped his hand away.

“Ow!” he grunted, but didn’t take the hint and get the hell away from her before she was forced to do bodily harm to him. “Let me help you,” he said, moving to grab the towel away from her again, this time ignoring her mad slaps.

“Ow!” she cried as he somehow managed to pinch the side of her left breast when he wrapped the towel around her and secured it. She opened her mouth to tell him to get the hell away from her, but as soon as she opened her mouth she ended up gasping for air and frantically yanking at the towel that he’d somehow managed to wrap around her so tightly that breathing became impossible.

It took a few frantic attempts, but once she finally managed to yank the towel off and sucked in several deep breaths, she shot him a murderous glare that quickly gave way to panic as she saw him sorting through a pile of combs and brushes. Knowing and fearing where this was going, she scrambled to get out of the tub and bathroom before he could get his hands on her, but sadly, he was a hell of a lot faster than her.

“Put me down!” she demanded, struggling in his arms as she did her best to fight her way to freedom, terrified for her precious hair and scalp that had no chance of survival if he got anywhere near them with the large plastic comb in his hand.

“Shhh, just relax, mein Schatz,” he murmured as she sat down on the edge of the bed and placed her down rather roughly on his knee. Before she could take advantage of the move, he had his arm wrapped tightly around her waist and was bringing that comb down towards her hair.

“Stop!” she demanded, grabbing hold of the hand that wielded that dangerous weapon and held it away from her.

With an exasperated sigh, he pulled his hand away from her and brought the comb closer and closer to her hair until she was left with no other choice but to scream like a girl.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he demanded, cringing even as he moved to continue with his sick plans.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” she repeated in disbelief, slapping at the hand coming at her until she finally managed to knock the comb out of his hand. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she demanded.

“Nothing!” he snapped, shooting her a glare as he tossed her onto the bed and moved to go get the-

Oh, hell no!

Before the thought even had a chance to form in her head, she found herself on his back as she attempted to place him in a chokehold so that she could-

“What are you doing?” Christofer asked as he easily peeled her off his back and placed her on the bed.