Autophobia

Secrets

Zane slammed the door to his bedroom open. The door swung fast into the wall, creating a dent in the white paint. The only light was peeking from the bathroom door that was open ajar. He tossed his suitcase on his bed as he stripped off his coat. His shirt followed, feeling hot and restricted. In fast steps, he walked into the bathroom, treating the door with the same abuse. His feet lead him to the sink. Splashing hot water onto his face, he let out a long sigh.

He cursed under his breath. Leaning closer to the mirror, he took in his features. His face was tight, wrinkled by his anger. Anger that he thought was unreasonable. What he discovered in the missing file should not matter to him. He has Amelia. Dammit, he has her sleeping in his room. Despite his rational reasoning, he could not be satisfied. Knowing that he did not know everything about her made his skin crawl. Everything in him was trying to fight the urge to return to Carter's home and ransack the place for more secrets. Her past should not matter. Whether he had known this before would not change his thoughts towards Amelia. Still unsettled and angry, Zane leaned away, ticking his jaw at his tense reflection.

His body was warm, frustrated and excitedly waiting to fuck the women he used to bring home every night. It all changed once he brought Amelia home. He has been so transfixed on Amelia, too distracted by her. It was a nightly occurrence and like any reasonable adult, masturbation or a cold shower was the cure. However, tonight his anger was helping him get out of the mood. He was angry with Carter and his secrets, Mason and his stupid decisions, then to top it all off, he has to fix whatever is going on between him and Amelia.

Amelia probably still thought of him as a monster and that itself put a big damper on his sex drive. Obviously, he appreciated that he was not seen as badly as the men she fears will take her. He remembered when she thanked him. His mind played it over and over. Her sickly figure leaning over the toilet, looking at him with those eyes. Welcoming eyes, ones that he so desperately wanted to see again. Patience is his test, Amelia is his reward and damn the universe and himself if he fucks it up. Well, if he fucks it up more than he already has.

His eyes wandered over the steam that covered the corners of the mirror. Subsiding anger let him take in his warm and humid surroundings. Looking over, he saw Amelia, sitting still and as quiet as a mouse in the tub. Her white skin blended in with the bath bubbles. Her wet hair was stuck to her forehead and cheeks. She looked at him like a deer in headlights.

She looked gorgeous, elegant and godly. The sight of her in the tub reignited his want for her. Her white skin against the bathtubs white lining made it more surreal. He thought of her stomach from this morning, how beautiful it would look if she were to rise out of the tub covered in suds. Her slim figure along with her pale skin gave her a mythical look, like a fairy. At this moment, a mermaid seemed like a better description. Even without her song or voice, she was leading him into depths of desire.

Without thinking twice, he walked to the tub. Her eyes widened as she sunk further into it. She whispered his name in a high-pitched voice. He ignored her and knelt down beside the tub. Resting his head on his arms that placed themselves on the side. His skin absorbed the warmth from the water that was under his arms. He moved his legs to give his arousal some room.

Amelia looked down and focused on her bubbles, keeping her eyes away from his bare skin. She expected him to come home much later. So for him to come walking in while she was in the tub shocked her. She was about to yell at him to get out until she watched him looking at himself in the mirror. He looked to himself with much scrutiny and anger. With how tight he was holding the edge of the sink, she assumed he was going to punch his own reflection. At first, she was nervous to see him come bursting through the door. But what put her at ease was the anger being directed towards himself. He looked to himself with so much hatred, then when he turned to her it seemed as if all the bottled up anger washed away. Now seeing him next to the tub, she could see his tired out features.