standing in the hall but still poking my head in.
He took the knife away from his thigh and stood up, and that's when I saw the rest of the cuts, now healed in to scars, trailing down the side of Connor's thigh like a tally.
I started to say something but the words caught in my throat. I didn't know what the hell to say.
Connor turned and walked calmly towards me, and I kept my eyes glued to his face, as much as I wanted to look down. He yanked me in to the bathroom and shut the door behind me. He was definitely naked, but he also looked a lot more comfortable about it than I did. I couldn't tell if he was angry. He didn't look particularly happy to see me just then.
"Marcus wouldn't like it if he saw me doing this," Connor said. Then he turned around and walked back to the mirror, and I did look down then, at his butt, which was completely fantastic.
He glanced back and caught me looking and I blushed all over again.
"Why are you cutting yourself?"
I watched as he took a cotton swab, doused it in alcohol, and pressed it to the open cut without even so much as a grimace. "There's one mark for every vampire I've killed. I'm adding another mark for the one I killed tonight."
I glanced down at his big, muscular thigh again. There had to be at least ten scars there. Then he turned around and showed me the outside of the other thigh, and I gasped. There were at least twice as many cuts on that thigh. "For the werewolves they made me kill," he said. "I do it so that I'll never forget. Marcus doesn't approve, he says I should be trying to move past what they did to me, to forget it. But I don't want to forget." He looked back at me, "what do you think, am I just torturing myself for no good reason?"
I felt a tear escape my eye and trickle down my check. I was so focused on how crappy my own life was. I couldn't even imagine the pain Connor had to live with.
"Oh hell Sara, don't cry for me."
"But..." I wanted to tell him he was torturing himself, that Marcus was right and he should move past it, or at least try, but I knew it wasn't my place to tell him how he should deal with his pain. I wouldn't have wanted anyone telling me how to deal with the many things in my past that haunted me.
He started walking towards me again, and I assumed he was coming to comfort me or something, so I held up my hand, "Woah, you're naked."
But he didn't stop, "and you're not," he said. He reached me, and gently took the bundle of towel and robe from my hands, and set them on the marble bathroom counter. I could smell him again, now that he was standing so close, and it was an intoxicating aroma.
"If you're going to be spending time around other werewolves you will need to become comfortable with a certain amount of nudity."
He grabbed the bottom hem of my shirt and had it up and over my head before I could even think to protest. If he had been making some sort of sexual advance my auto-pilot would have kicked in and I would have been out the bathroom door already. But he was so comfortable with his own nudity, that it almost didn't seem sexual. To him it was just nudity, there was nothing necessarily sexual about it.
I instinctively went to cover myself up but Connor gently pulled my hands away. "You're beautiful," he whispered in my ear, seeming to sense the insecurities that were running through my mind.
He reached down and quickly undid my belt buckle, then pulled the button on my jeans loose, and pushed them off my hips so that they slid to the floor. I watched his face, not sure what I would see there, but his eyes looked hungry, and he wasn't the least bit embarrassed about looking, unlike me.
He moved to take off my bra and I let him. He undid the clasp and gently pulled the bra loose from my arms.
"You are stunning," he murmured in a low voice, as I watched him look my body over. I expected him to touch me, kiss me, something, but he held himself back, taking his time, though I noticed a definite increase in size in his crotch
He took the knife away from his thigh and stood up, and that's when I saw the rest of the cuts, now healed in to scars, trailing down the side of Connor's thigh like a tally.
I started to say something but the words caught in my throat. I didn't know what the hell to say.
Connor turned and walked calmly towards me, and I kept my eyes glued to his face, as much as I wanted to look down. He yanked me in to the bathroom and shut the door behind me. He was definitely naked, but he also looked a lot more comfortable about it than I did. I couldn't tell if he was angry. He didn't look particularly happy to see me just then.
"Marcus wouldn't like it if he saw me doing this," Connor said. Then he turned around and walked back to the mirror, and I did look down then, at his butt, which was completely fantastic.
He glanced back and caught me looking and I blushed all over again.
"Why are you cutting yourself?"
I watched as he took a cotton swab, doused it in alcohol, and pressed it to the open cut without even so much as a grimace. "There's one mark for every vampire I've killed. I'm adding another mark for the one I killed tonight."
I glanced down at his big, muscular thigh again. There had to be at least ten scars there. Then he turned around and showed me the outside of the other thigh, and I gasped. There were at least twice as many cuts on that thigh. "For the werewolves they made me kill," he said. "I do it so that I'll never forget. Marcus doesn't approve, he says I should be trying to move past what they did to me, to forget it. But I don't want to forget." He looked back at me, "what do you think, am I just torturing myself for no good reason?"
I felt a tear escape my eye and trickle down my check. I was so focused on how crappy my own life was. I couldn't even imagine the pain Connor had to live with.
"Oh hell Sara, don't cry for me."
"But..." I wanted to tell him he was torturing himself, that Marcus was right and he should move past it, or at least try, but I knew it wasn't my place to tell him how he should deal with his pain. I wouldn't have wanted anyone telling me how to deal with the many things in my past that haunted me.
He started walking towards me again, and I assumed he was coming to comfort me or something, so I held up my hand, "Woah, you're naked."
But he didn't stop, "and you're not," he said. He reached me, and gently took the bundle of towel and robe from my hands, and set them on the marble bathroom counter. I could smell him again, now that he was standing so close, and it was an intoxicating aroma.
"If you're going to be spending time around other werewolves you will need to become comfortable with a certain amount of nudity."
He grabbed the bottom hem of my shirt and had it up and over my head before I could even think to protest. If he had been making some sort of sexual advance my auto-pilot would have kicked in and I would have been out the bathroom door already. But he was so comfortable with his own nudity, that it almost didn't seem sexual. To him it was just nudity, there was nothing necessarily sexual about it.
I instinctively went to cover myself up but Connor gently pulled my hands away. "You're beautiful," he whispered in my ear, seeming to sense the insecurities that were running through my mind.
He reached down and quickly undid my belt buckle, then pulled the button on my jeans loose, and pushed them off my hips so that they slid to the floor. I watched his face, not sure what I would see there, but his eyes looked hungry, and he wasn't the least bit embarrassed about looking, unlike me.
He moved to take off my bra and I let him. He undid the clasp and gently pulled the bra loose from my arms.
"You are stunning," he murmured in a low voice, as I watched him look my body over. I expected him to touch me, kiss me, something, but he held himself back, taking his time, though I noticed a definite increase in size in his crotch
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