Chapter Twelve
Gemma stepped from the shower, wrapped a towel around her body, and swiped the steam off the wall mirror.
The image reflected back at her looked exactly the same as it had that morning. On the outside, she hadn’t changed one bit.
On the inside was a whole different story.
How in the name of all that’s holy could one kiss affect her so powerfully, change her so completely, and leave her so bamboozled that all she could think of was when could she kiss him again?
Because she really did want to kiss him again. Really. Kyros Pappandreos’s kiss had been like no other she’d ever received.
His lips had been soft, like a newborn’s skin, when they’d trailed along the edge of her jaw, and at the same time hard, solid, and demanding as they took total possession of her mouth.
She could have stood in the kitchen, just kissing him, for the rest of her natural life.
She trailed a finger across her mouth as she stared at herself.
Well, that was a bold-faced lie.
She didn’t just want to kiss him. She wanted to do a lot more. A whole lot more. Like strip him naked and eat him alive.
Gemma shook her head. The image of Ky pummeling the punching bag in the garage, shirtless, his perfect body bathed in sweat, muscles flexing and extending, shot to the front of her mind. She’d wanted to lick every drop of that sweat off every place it touched his sun-kissed skin.
And then start all over again at the top.
Without even seeming to, he’d stripped all her self-imposed defenses raw as if he’d stripped her naked before him. Gemma never let a man make the first move, sexually. She was always the instigator, taking control of the situation, guiding it, and deciding what she’d allow to happen. She had to be the one in control. If the events that took place during her high school days had taught her anything, it was this.
But Ky had made the first move today without ever asking, and she’d allowed it, which was mindboggling to begin with. What made it even more so was that she hadn’t resisted or pulled away. She’d let him assume control and had been a willing participant in the most sensual, fiery, and intoxicating embrace of her life. When his hands cupped her butt and pulled her straight up against what she knew was a major league erection, all she could think about doing was jumping up and wrapping her legs around his waist to get all that length and heat against her own roaring inferno. If Rick Bannerman hadn’t made such a dramatic entrance, she could imagine she’d be doing a lot more than kissing Ky at this moment.
A whole lot more.
A quick glance at the bedside digital clock and she saw it was only nine o’clock. Still early, but she was tired, both in mind and body. She pulled on a clean T-shirt and some yoga pants from the suitcase Kandy had sent with Rick, and made her way down the stairs, guided by heated voices.
“I don’t know how this is possible,” Ky was saying.
“It’s not easy, but it certainly can be done. Any hacker worth knowing has the access and capability to—”
“What’s not easy?” Gemma asked.
Two sets of eyes trained on her. One pair was flat and as unreadable as always. The pair that resembled a calm ocean had turned stormy, filled with fire and rage.
“What are you guys talking about?”
Gemma noticed Rick slant a look at Ky, who hadn’t taken his eyes from her since she entered the room. The same possessive glare she’d seen in them when he’d kissed her was there again. The one that told her she should run for the hills, only her feet weren’t listening.
Oh my.
“Your brother-in-law and Bannerman have been looking into how Ritandi discovered where we were keeping you.”
Gemma looked at Rick. “And?”
“Before I answer that, I want to ask you another question,” he said to Ky.
“Go ahead.”
“You called Josh from DC after you’d been attacked while moving Gemma to another location, right?”
“Yes.” Ky’s lips were pressed together so tight, Gemma barely heard him.
“So, again, who knew where you were relocating her? The same people as before?”
“No. I notified the agents I wanted assigned to the house, my boss, and the two agents who were in the van with us. That’s it.”
“No one else?”
“No, why?”
Rick didn’t answer him. “You need to give me all their names so I can run a comparison. Then we can get a bead on who’s setting you up.”
“Setting him up? What are you talking about?” Gemma asked.
Succinctly, Rick told her what he and Josh had discovered; all the while Ky was focused on her face, watching her.
“Well that makes no sense,” she said when he was done. She turned to address Ky. “If you were involved in this, you had more than enough chances to get me out of the way. Why run with me if you were planning on killing me anyway? It’s dumb.”
“Maybe not,” Rick said.
When they both looked to him, he shrugged. “In a twisted sense, it might be brilliant.” He turned his gaze to Ky and narrowed his eyes. “If you are involved, what better place to keep an eye on Gemma than while she’s in your care. A few feigned attempts on her life, a few location switches, and then suddenly, bam! She dies and you can’t be suspected because you’ve done everything in your power to keep her alive. It’s a tragedy she’s dead, but nothing points to you.”
Gemma crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her head to one side, her lips pulling down at the corners. “That’s just stupid. You just said these phone calls point to him.”
Rick nodded.
“So if they do, then he’d be suspected. That blows your theory to crap.”
“Only if the calls were discovered,” Ky said.
Rick shot a finger at him. “Right. It’s safe to say whoever orchestrated this is going to pin Gemma’s death on you. Especially—” he stopped and cast a quick glance at her.
Gemma knew immediately what he’d been about to say. She turned to Ky. “Especially if you die, too. Because then you couldn’t defend yourself against any allegations or charges. You’d be guilty after the fact.”
The air in the room chilled and Gemma squeezed herself tighter.
“So,” Rick said again, “who hates you enough to want to kill you and destroy your reputation in the bargain?”
* * *
It was a good question.
Ky stood and walked to the kitchen, head spinning. He grabbed some bottled waters from the kitchen and handed one to Gemma when he returned. A little shock sparked through him when his fingers skimmed hers and by the way she sucked in a fast breath, he knew she’d felt it, too.
“Ritandi is, of course, the name that heads the list,” he said, sitting. “I’ve been a bug up his ass for three years. When I arrested Calafano I could practically hear him screaming.”
“So it makes sense, then, he got to somebody in the bureau, maybe even on your team.”
Ky sighed. “Unfortunately, it does.”
He was still having a great deal of difficulty thinking any of the men he’d handpicked for his investigative team could be involved. He’d worked side by side with these men for over three years. He knew their families, their kids’ names. He’d worked diligently to establish their trust and confidence in him as their team leader. To suspect one of them may be something they weren’t, well, it was hard to imagine.
His gaze lifted to Gemma. She stood opposite from where he sat, the water bottle in her hand, a look of quiet introspection on her beautiful face. He’d give his right nut to know what she was thinking.
And his left one to take her in his arms again and disappear into her.
“Listen kids, I’m beat.” Bannerman rose and stretched. “I’ve been on the road since late last night without any sleep, so I’m heading up. Get me those names and we’ll start fresh in the morning, ’kay?”
Ky nodded.
Rick stopped, kissed Gemma on the forehead and swiped a finger down her cheek as he’d done earlier. “Get some sleep, Cleo. You’re looking haggard.”
It took every bit of control Ky could muster not to drag her away from him.
Gemma stuck her tongue out at Bannerman, and said, “I love you, too, old man.”
With a chuckle, he jogged up the stairs. It was in that moment Ky realized the man would be sleeping in the room next to Gemma’s. The room with one of the king-sized beds.
When Gemma turned her gaze back to him, her eyes narrowed. “What?”
Ky waited a beat. “You and Bannerman?” He cocked his head.
“Yeah?”
Ky just lifted his brow, his question clear.
“Me and Rick? Good Lord, no!”
“You two seem pretty…in sync.”
“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”
Ky bit the inside of his cheek.
Gemma sighed and rubbed her hands along her thighs. “He’s like an older, totally annoying brother. The kind you love and who’ll stick up for you in a fight, but who you really can only take in small doses because he’s such a pain in the ass most of the time.” She shrugged and added, “We’ve worked together on a few surveillance cases. I told you that the day we met.”
He nodded.
“I’ve helped him with photography, and he’s helped me with improving my shooting skills. That’s it.”
“He likes to touch you,” Ky said before he could stop himself.
He sounded like a jealous idiot.
She rolled her eyes, shook her head, “Rick likes to touch all women. But it doesn’t mean anything. Not to me, anyway.”
Ky wanted to tell her how happy that made him, but he kept it to himself.
“Look, I originally came down here to say good night. I got a little sidetracked with all this talk of agency moles and potential deaths.”
She crossed her arms over her chest again. “I wanted to tell you I’ll do breakfast duty in the morning. You don’t have to cook every meal. I can pitch in.”
“I like cooking,” he said, simply. “It…I don’t know,” he swiped a hand in the air, “calms me. Helps me to think. To focus.”
Gemma nodded. “I get that. Kandy’s the same way, but you don’t have to do all and be all. I can manage. Dinner tasted okay, right?”
His mind immediately flew to how she’d tasted, not the pasta. The food had been nourishment for his body, but sampling her, savoring her, had been nourishment for his soul. His thoughts must have shown in his eyes because her face went bright pink and she bit down on her bottom lip again, a sign he’d noticed of nerves building in her.
“Dinner was delicious,” he said.
He stood and crossed to her. He shouldn’t do this. Not here. Not now. But he had to know the truth. Had to know what was in her mind.
When he was within the distance of a breath from her, he stopped and circled his hands around her upper arms. She jumped, ever so slightly, at his touch, but her shoulders immediately relaxed and he felt her lean into him, not retract.
“You believe me when I tell you I’m not involved in any of this, right?”
He captured her gaze with his own, wanting—needing—to see the truth in her answer.
Without a moment’s hesitation she said, “Of course I do.”
“Why?”
“Why do I believe you?”
He nodded.
Her eyes never left his. “Because you’re one of the good guys, through and through. I knew it the moment I met you.” Her eyes darted between his. “You were obnoxious, overbearing, and so arrogantly alpha, you practically oozed cop from every pore.”
His lips twitched at the description. He knew it wasn’t far off the mark.
“You’d never sell out your men. Or anyone close to you.”
“You seem awfully sure.”
She rolled her eyes again. “Please. In the brief time I was with you and Jon, I saw for myself the respect and loyalty you two had for one another. You can’t fake that.”
Ky’s insides calmed and settled.
“Don’t forget,” she added, “I’m a trained observer. I see things most people miss. My internal bullshit-ometer is the best there is. I never doubt it.”
He squeezed her arms. What he really wanted to do was yank her to his chest, put his mouth on hers again and slake the waterfall of desire cascading wildly within him.
Her belief in him was monumental. She may never admit it, her pride might not let her, but he knew she trusted him. And to Ky, trust was everything.
When he lowered his hands to his thighs he swore he heard a tiny whine blow through her lips.
He took a step back, never breaking eye contact with her.
Confusion creased her flawless brow and her luscious lips pulled into the hottest pout he’d ever seen. He was as hard as steel and the pressure of his erection pushing against his zipper was growing more uncomfortable by the second.
Gemma crossed her hands to the spot he’d just held and said, “Well, I guess I’ll say good night then. Finally.”
Ky nodded and dropped his hands into his pockets. “I’ll make sure everything is safe and secure before I call it a night.”
Gemma stared at him and then shook her head. As she walked away from him she muttered, “No surprise, there.”
Once she closed the bedroom door and was out of sight, Ky fell back into his chair and dropped his head into his hands. With a deep inhale, he settled back, legs splayed, and his gaze flicked to Theo’s laptop.
Work. He needed to work.
He had to get his mind off what he really wanted, which was to have Gemma underneath him, screaming his name while he made her come as many times as he could manage.
He groaned and readjusted himself, the pressure in his crotch growing at the image dancing across his imagination.
The scene in the kitchen jerked back to his mind and he remembered every sensation that had gone through him at the whisper-soft feel of her naked skin under his hands, the erotic sound of her tiny gasps as he sucked on her tongue, even the way he knew without a doubt her panties were wet when he’d snaked his knee between her legs.
The pressure in his pants grew almost unbearable.
He took several deep breaths and started reciting the names of the Greek gods in his head to clear his mind.
After a few minutes, he rose, took the laptop with him and went to his room.
* * *
Gemma rolled over and sighed.
Again.
She’d been trying to fall asleep for the past two hours to no avail. Every time she closed her eyes, all she could see was Ky’s face as he’d kissed her in the kitchen.
Wild and wanting. Hot and steamy. So ridiculously sexy all she could remembering thinking was kiss me, please, kiss me. And when he did, holy mother!
Gemma flipped to her back and blew out an exasperated breath.
How had she gone from loathing the man to wanting his lips on hers—and on all her other body parts, too? She hadn’t been fibbing when she told him she believed he had nothing to do with anything that had happened. The man was as rock solid and steady as they came, and he’d treated her with nothing but professionalism and actual concern.
She hated to admit it but she trusted him. To her core. After just a few days of being together she knew he’d do whatever it took to keep her safe. He’d proven it time and again.
Trust was the one thing Gemma never gave freely. But Ky had earned it—multiple times over.
Wiggling to her side, she drew her knees to her chest, unable to get comfortable no matter what position she got into, and she knew the reason why.
She didn’t want to be in this bed, alone, and wanting.
She wanted to be in Ky’s bed, with him, and satisfied.
It took one second to make her decision.
When she opened her bedroom door, the living room lights were off, but the small glow from the range hood illuminated all she needed to see as she made her way down the stairs.
From the kitchen, a small beam of light slipped through the partially opened door to his room.
Gemma licked her lips, gave a tiny knock, and opened the door at the same time.
Ky’s eyes tracked on her immediately. Shirtless, he was sitting up in bed, the laptop across his thighs.
“Gemma?” His voice was soft, due to the hour, raspy and filled with just enough late night promise to make her fingertips tingle.
“You moved the Lucy and Ricky beds together.” She closed the door and leaned back against it.
Ky glanced down at the beds and shrugged. “It’s more comfortable because I’m so tall. I can stretch out better.”
“Oh.”
He stared at her for a few beats. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Why do you always think there’s something wrong when I want to talk to you?”
His left eyebrow cocked. “Because there usually is.”
Gemma pouted. “I just want to…talk.”
And there went the right eyebrow in the same direction. “Talk?”
Gemma licked her lips and inched into the room.
He stayed silent as she approached the bed. Since he was reclined in the middle of it, she slid down on the edge and sat, drawing one leg up on the bed, bent, facing him.
Now that she was here, the realization that this might not be the best idea she’d had in a while shot through her. With any other guy she knew what do, how to convey what she wanted.
But Ky wasn’t any other guy, as he’d proved all too many times.
“Yes. I want, well—” She stopped, bit down on the side of her cheek.
The air in the room suddenly changed and Gemma swore she heard his breath catch.
“What?” The low, soft, seductive timbre in his voice sent her thighs to shaking.
“Were you working?” She chinned the laptop.
“If you could call it that.” He took a breath and scrubbed his hands down his face. “I’m trying to find any link I can between those phone calls Bannerman found and my men.”
“Any luck?”
“None. I don’t know whether to be happy or mad that I can’t. It makes no sense. I know all these men. I vetted them.” His gaze lit on her face. “But you didn’t come in here to ask me about this.”
Because it wasn’t a question, she didn’t respond.
“Gemma, come on. Tell me what’s wrong, what’s bothering you.”
The Gemma Laine she showed the world, the confident, snarky, assertive one never at a loss for words and always able to state what she wanted in no uncertain terms, wanted to tell him, “What’s bothering me is that you’re not inside me right now.”
The real Gemma, the shy, uncertain, untrusting one, couldn’t bring herself to be the aggressor this time. The kiss they’d shared should have been proof enough he wanted her, but she just wasn’t totally sure, a fact that unnerved her.
“I want to know why you kissed me,” she blurted. “Before. You know? In the kitchen.”
His face could have been a virgin slab of stone. He held her stare a few seconds, then his shoulders relaxed and he closed the laptop. He stretched across the bed to place it on the night table.
Gemma’s pulse kicked up at the length of long, toned, and wickedly hard muscles rippling across his back. Her fingers actually itched to reach out and run across them.
“I want to apologize for that.” He sat back again. “I shouldn’t have. It wasn’t very…professional.”
Deflated, she said, “Oh. I thought…”
“What?”
“That, you know.” She waved a hand in the air. “You, well, wanted to…” She blew out a breath and closed her eyes. “This was so much easier when I was talking about it in my head.”
A movement on the bed had her opening her eyes. Ky had shifted toward her, enough that she could see he wore black silk boxers, the sound of the material as it whispered across the sheets intoxicatingly soft and supple. And if she wasn’t mistaken, a very large, very solid, very pulsing erection was barely hidden under them.
“The simple truth is I did it because I wanted to,” he told her.
“Really?”
Jesus, Gemma, do you have to sound so hopeful and needy?
“Yes, really. You were upset and emotional—”
“I was not emotional!”
“—and I felt bad for you.”
The hope sailed away in a heartbeat. “You kissed me because you felt bad for me?”
“Yes-NO!” He scrubbed his hands down his face again and took another breath. “That’s not what I meant.”
“That’s what you said.”
“Gemma, please.” His eyes lasered on hers. “I kissed you for several reasons, but mostly because I wanted to and couldn’t convince myself right then why I shouldn’t.”
Okay, that shot some hope back into her. “Why would you need to convince yourself you shouldn’t? It’s not like I was fighting you. Or not kissing you back.”
“Do you really need me to lay all the reasons out for you?”
She shrugged.
“First,” he ticked one index finger with other, “you’re under my care. It’s my job to keep you safe and secure, and I take my responsibilities very seriously. Two, it’s frowned on for agents to get involved with civilians in cases like this no matter how attracted to them they are. Emotions and physical desires have a way of shifting focus off the main objective. And three, you can barely tolerate being in the same room with me. I was staggered when you didn’t drop-kick me in the balls afterward.”
She cocked her head at him and wrinkled her nose. Okay, this might not be as hard as she thought it would.
“One,” she ticked her own fingers together now, mimicking him, “It may be your job to keep me safe and secure, but I’m no slouch. I can take care of myself if I have to. I’ve proven that.”
“But—”
“Two, no one in the FBI is here right now, watching and evaluating what you’re doing or how you’re acting toward me—”
“—I know how I’m acting.”
“And number three is just too stupid to even really comment on. We’ve been constantly together for almost a week. Living, eating, running from maniacs together, so forget that excuse. It doesn’t hold water. Let’s remember, I did kiss you back.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, he shifted his legs, dropping them to the side of the bed, glared at her, and said, “Stupid?”
“Yeah. Major league stupid.”
Her gaze bore right through his, challenging, not giving an inch.
His St. Michael medallion dangled in the cavern of his pecs, swaying as he moved closer to her, so close she could smell the clean, fresh scent of the soap he’d used in the shower. So close, she could see his eyes darken as he looked at her, those gorgeous seafoam colors roaming over her face and turning stormy. So close, she did what she’d been dreaming of doing since she first saw him without a shirt, drenched in sweat and looking like a warrior: she leaned in and trailed her tongue along the angle of his jaw. He didn’t move, but did hiss in a breath, his abdominal muscles contracting inward.
A fine line of spikey stubble tickled her tongue and made her want to explore more.
Ky choked. “Did you just…lick me?”
When she pulled back there was surprised mirth crinkling in the corners of his narrowed eyes, his lips twisting up at the corners.
“Yeah,” she sighed. “I’ve been wanting to do that for days.”
Ky’s mouth straightened. “You’ve been wanting to…lick me… for days?”
She nodded, feeling her cheeks burn like wildfire. Oh well, here goes nothing…
She kept her gaze steady, and said, “Well, yeah. Ever since that morning in the basement when we worked out together.”
Something in his eyes shifted; eased.
“You were all sweaty and…hot.”
And then they darkened again, but this time not in anger. No. This time the heat in his eyes wasn’t to be laid at fury’s door, but at something deeper, more primal. Sensual.
“And to be honest,” she added, “I want to do more than just lick you. But, yeah. Days.”
She didn’t even have time to process what he was doing. Before she could blink Ky hauled her up to her feet by her arms and flattened her body against his. One hand snaked around her waist holding in her place, while the other cupped the back of her neck. His mouth hovered a breath from hers when he said, “You realize what you’ve just said, right?”
“That I’ve wanted you…like this, for days?” She nodded.
She watched the hard line of his jaw contract as he swallowed, his gaze intense and filled with raw hunger and she was his meal.
Oh my.
“Be sure, Gemma. Be very sure this is what you want to happen between us. I’ve been walking around as hard as nails, so before this goes anywhere, goes any further, be sure, because I don’t think I’ll be able to stop once we start.”
Encouraged by those words more than she could possibly imagine, Gemma coiled one hand around Ky’s neck and tugged. Against his lips she challenged, “Prove it.”
His mouth crushed hers, possessed it, claimed it. His tongue plundered, took hers prisoner and stroked it with his own. He kissed her as if he were starved for a lifetime, drawing every bit of nourishment and sustenance he could from her.
And then he went back for more.
Her heart was pounding so wildly in her chest she swore she could hear it thumping in the air around them.
The man had a perfect mouth for kissing: hard, insistent, and punishingly gentle. If she was never kissed by another man, she’d die knowing what it was to be kissed by a man with no equal.
The hand at her waist crept below the band of her pajama shorts, roved along the curve of one butt cheek and squeezed. Gemma’s body reacted unconsciously by contracting her muscles. Ky’s lips danced into a smile as he pulled back from the kiss, a tiny sucking sound filling the air. His bedroom eyes twinkled down at her as he nuzzled her nose. “You’ve got the sweetest ass.” His other hand followed the first. “Watching you and not being able to touch it has been driving me nuts.”
While he squeezed them both, Gemma grabbed his head and dragged him back to kiss her. “Squats. Thousands of them,” she said as she nipped at his bottom lip and kissed her way along his jaw. At the little notch between his neck and shoulder, she opened her lips, wet the spot with her tongue and sucked.
His entire body went rigid. A feeling of feminine supremacy eclipsed through her at eliciting such a reaction. The man oozed control from every pore. She was dying to see what would happen when he lost it and know she was the cause.
“You taste so damn good.” She pulled his earlobe into her mouth and bit down.
In the next second she was flat on her back, the mattress springs bouncing against her.
Ky stared down at her, his eyes raking her body in one smooth, possessive glide. When his gaze settled on the top of her thighs, she squirmed, trying to draw her legs up. His hands caught her knees.
“No.”
That one, small word was filled with such authority, such command, she was powerless against it.
He spread her legs apart with the flick of his hand. Even through the thin material of the shorts covering her, Gemma felt completely exposed.
And more turned on than she could ever remember.
He bunched the hem of her short T-shirt and pushed it up over her belly, his mouth following the shirt’s trek, up, until he got to the underside of her breasts, where he stopped. The warm, moist sensation of his breath on her skin was glorious.
“Still sure?” he asked, looking her square in the eyes.
“Yup.”
He lifted the shirt, exposing her breasts, then tugged it over her head and tossed it behind him. He weighed each breast in his hands, holding them as if they were precious jewels. With a quick glance at her, he bent his head, his mouth sucking one nipple to a hardened point, then the other.
Gemma squirmed against the sheets. Each time his tongue tugged, an invisible beat of desire pulsed to the lower part of her body. It was almost painful. Almost. But among the pain was exquisite pleasure.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against her rib cage. “So soft.”
He plumped her breasts in his hands. “So perfect.”
Sitting back on his knees, his wove his fingers under the waistband of her shorts, and slunk his gaze up to hers again. Fiery didn’t begin to do justice to the amount of heat staring at her.
“Still sure?” he asked again in that wicked bedroom voice that he had to know no sane woman could resist.
Gemma took a breath, loving that he thought enough of her to give her the chance of an out.
But she didn’t want an out. She wanted an in—as in him. In her.
“Abso-friggin-lutely.”
And let’s not forget that sexy leer. He had to know what that little lift of the corners of his mouth did to the pulses of women in the room. Any room.
Slowly, so slow she grew impatient with the urgent need to feel him inside her, Ky drew her shorts down, exposing her skin inch by inch, while his mouth and tongue trailed after. She felt singed by fire every place he crossed.
Gemma lifted her hips so he could draw the shorts over her butt, her movement nudging her mound straight into his lips. When she gasped, he simply chuckled, dragged his nose and mouth from one side of her to the other, licking his way across. She closed her eyes and thanked the gods of beauty and timing she’d gone for a waxing the week before. Her shorts hit the floor with a dull thud.
Her eyes flew open when she realized Ky had stopped his travels.
He was sitting back on his haunches, his hands fisted on his thighs, just staring down at her. The bottom half of her.
“What?” she said, growing nervous and unsure. Did he not like a woman to be groomed? What is too much? Not enough?
She swore he growled, then murmured something low and quick, in Greek.
“That sounded hot. Tell me what it means.” She pushed up on her elbows.
He cocked his head and lifted his gaze from her naked crotch to her eyes.
Good lord, the man invented the smoldering stare. She actually felt the moisture begin to drip between her legs from the look alone.
“It loses a little something in the translation,” he told her, his voice dark and low as he gripped her thighs between his fingers and squeezed. “It doesn’t sound as…romantic…in English.”
“I don’t need romantic words. What did you say?”
He uttered the oath she’d heard come from him before. “Roughly,” he told her, “I said I want to fuck you six ways from Sunday.”