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“Shion?” The inspector poked her head tentatively into the Heebie-Jeebie house, trying to sound more confident than she felt. She didn’t want to be there, but Hyde had been insistent that she get Shion to sign his paperwork for his artifact.
She had tried to find Elias or Jo, but both of them were leaving her messages on read, and Mio was currently under a building, swearing and clanging his tools so loudly she couldn’t be heard over the racket. Trapped between the choice of dealing with Hyde or dealing with the bloodthirsty prankster, she’d chosen the lesser of two evils. Speaking of…
“Do I hear my sweet little wife?” Shion’s eerie, teasing voice floated out of the depths of the shack. “I’m back here. Come join me.”
Moving cautiously through the darkness and clutter, she followed the sound of Shion humming softly to himself, the notes surprisingly mellow and contented. There was a soft glow coming from an open door off to the side as she made her way around a collection of terrifying mannequins dressed in kabuki costumes, and she hurried forward, glad to be out of the dark.
“Shion, hi, I need you to sign some–” She stumbled to a breathless stop as she realized what she had walked into. The small room was bathed in ruddy light from the candles burning on every surface, surrounding the tub placed against the back wall. The room was almost feverishly warm, the humid air rich with an intoxicating scent she tried to identify. Shion lifted his head from the high back of the hip bath, golden eyes gleaming through the steam rising from the water.
“Wife. Come scrub my back for me?” He lifted a sponge from the tray, dipping it into the bath and smiling at her slyly. Her eyes followed his movements in horrified fascination as he squeezed the sponge over his shoulders, water streaming over his pale skin and turning to golden rivers in the flickering light of the candles.
“I.. I.. I’m so sorry,” she stammered. “I can come back later.”
“Why?” he asked playfully. “There’s plenty of room for both of us.” He stretched like a big cat, muscles playing beneath his wet skin as his eyes went half-lidded and his smirk took on a dangerous edge. “Unless you have someone else to rush off and see?”
“No, no, I don’t, I just–”
“Come closer. You’re too far away.” His voice was cajoling, and she unconsciously took another step into the room, unable to resist the pull. “Closer…” He coaxed her across the room like a skittish bird that would fly away from his hands.
“I really just need you to sign this permit form, and then I can let you finish your bath,” she said timidly, indicating the form in her hand. Shion smiled at her, lifting his wet hands, shrugging with a false apology.
“I’d get them all soggy,” he pouted. “But if you really want me to, you could bring me that towel over there.”
Looking at the shelf he pointed at, she found the stack of linen towels and picked one up, turning back to hand it to him. Her mouth fell open in a stifled cry.
“Hmm… that look on your face.” Standing in the water, he stroked a hand down the front of his body, long fingers trailing over his own skin and drawing her eyes down over the lean, athletic lines of his muscles until he reached his groin. His fingers lingered, his breath coming out in a teasing sigh as she stared. When she tried to avert her gaze, he clicked his tongue disapprovingly.
“You’re supposed to look,” he said, the lightest thread of hurt in his voice. “I like it when you look at me.”
“You’re not wearing any clothes,” she pointed out, sneaking a glance at him under her lashes. “It's not proper.”
“Then bring me the towel, wifey,” he smirked. “If it will make you happy, I’ll put it on.” He stretched his free hand out, crooking his finger at her as she inched closer, the towel dangling from her hand as she offered it to him without looking, her cheeks turning pink. There was a soft tug on the cloth and it slithered to the floor with a soft plop. “Oops. I don’t want to get water on the floor. Can you pick it up for me?”
“Uhm, sure.” Blushing even more furiously, she bent to pick up the fallen linen and stood up quickly, shoving it into his hand. “I’ll just wait… outside. Just, yeah, right outside.”
She was at the door when he called after her, his voice soft with an edge of purring heat to it. “Wife?”
She turned back to face him, unable to resist that teasing endearment when he said it that way. His dark head was bent as he slowly rubbed himself dry, making sure the cloth slid and twisted over his skin in a way that brought her heart into her throat and sped her breathing. He glanced at her under thick eyelashes still beaded with water as he dragged the towel over his body, the same way he’d followed the water with his hands, and her eyes followed his hands. He stroked himself through the fabric, his head going back as he made a soft sound in his throat.
He secured the cloth around his waist with one hand, the taut folds leaving little to the imagination and padded across the room, his gleaming eyes never leaving her face. She pressed herself back against the wall, breath coming in short, shallow gasps as he leaned into her, the scent of smoke and exotic wood and sweet cherries surrounding her. She shivered as he dipped his head, brushing the shell of her ear with his lips as his hand slid down her arm.
“I don’t suppose you have a pen I could borrow, do you?”
She gasped as his fingers closed around hers, taking the papers from her nerveless grip, and fumbled desperately in her pocket for the requested item. Flattening the permit against the wall, he braced his arms over her head and scrawled his signature on the dotted line, his chest pressed close enough for her to taste the bath oils still slicking his skin, close enough to see the steady throb of his heartbeat in the hollow of his throat.
When he pulled away she whimpered, biting her tongue to hold the sound in. With a sweet smile, he pressed the documents into her hands, wrapping her fingers around them so she wouldn’t drop them.
“Anything for you,” he murmured. Stuttering out a thanks, she started out the door on shaking legs. She made it halfway through the Heebie-Jeebie House before his slow, wicked laughter chased her down, his whisper trailing behind her like a shadow.
“When you come back, wife, remember that the bedroom is on the left.”