The silence in the bathroom was too loud and deafening. Mirabella stood stiffly while Hunter stood tall beside her, his body dripping with water, his face as hard as a carved stone. He had said nothing since they left the club. He said nothing while he carried her upstairs and into the bathroom. Said nothing while he stripped their clothes away as if they were flimsy rags. Said nothing while he pulled her into the steaming shower with him.
His large hands moved over her body with measured control. He washed her skin slowly, deliberately, as if she were a porcelain he intended to polish clean. The warm water ran down her curves, mixing with the firm strokes of his palms. He soaped her shoulders, her arms, her breasts. His thumbs brushed over her n*****s, but there was no emotion on his fac
