"Let this be a lesson to kill the beast quicker, next time," Jill says with a grin, moving the spray back and forth, watching the water and grime drip down his body as she chases it. "Unless you actually enjoy being hosed down like a dog in the middle of the night."
"I'm having a wonderful time," she says, sincere. The smile hasn't left her face since she picked up the hose. Maybe her tune will change once she's scrubbing behind his ears and in all cracks imaginable, but for now, it's fun.
She resists the urge to spray his face. It's not often she gets to bully him while helping him, and she must behave.
Founder, that’s cold. He rolls his shoulders, his shirt clinging to his back, near transparent. This sucks, but her cheer wears off on him, and he expects to feel a whole lot more than her hand.
“Depending on how that goes, I may stay my revenge plans.”
“I’m supposed to be the one making love to you after this,” he says, turning slowly, eye on her nozzle. He braces himself and lifts an arm to shield his eyes. “Mind the thigh.”
Even in the dark, she knows where his eyes went before covering them. How tempting to be a terror, but alas, she's careful to both be quick and not full on spray him in the face as she rinses him off.
"I'll clean that once we're inside," she says, more serious. "I hope it just needs bandages, not stitches."
“Busy night,” he remarks, briefly gritting his teeth against the spray, and he lowers his arm as she works her way down. “I think it’ll be okay… another scar at worst.”
"It might be morning by the time we get to the bed," she says, watching as the water continues to wash away his adventure. The smell is either much improved, or she's gone noseblind.
"I just want to be sure you're not bleeding when we get around to the lovemaking."
"When it's your blood, it's not a problem," he replies, without skipping a beat, and he comes closer to her. His face and hair remains the worst of the mess, and he deliberately steps into her space like he might try to kiss her.
"That's different, and you kn--oh, Clive," she groans, leaning away with a laugh as he invades her bubble. A part of her would love to call his bluff and kiss him, but he really is too gross right now.
"Here," she says, turning the nozzle so the spray won't wash his flesh off the bone. "Wash your face."
He grins —- lighter, swept up in the moment —— and takes the hose. He steps back, just enough to spare her the worst of the spray, and he doubles over to start showering his hair and his face without dripping the muck over the rest of him.
“I don’t know what would keep you off me,” he says, muffled by the gurgle of water and gunk streaming from his hair as he rakes his fingers through it. It’s too dark to tell if the water runs clear, so he carries on for good measure. “Just blood, is it?”
“I don’t even recall when that was,” he says, and he straightens up, dripping everywhere. He shakes his head like a dog and his wet hair sticks to his face anyway.
He looks at her, finger still on the nozzle trigger.
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“I think you’re enjoying this more than I expected.”
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"I'm having a wonderful time," she says, sincere. The smile hasn't left her face since she picked up the hose. Maybe her tune will change once she's scrubbing behind his ears and in all cracks imaginable, but for now, it's fun.
She resists the urge to spray his face. It's not often she gets to bully him while helping him, and she must behave.
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“Is that truly necessary?”
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"Yes. Truly."
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He will percolate on revenge in the meantime.
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"As tempting as that is, I do think that particular area should be washed by hand."
And in case he doesn't get it, she adds: "My hand."
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“Depending on how that goes, I may stay my revenge plans.”
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She'll fight her demons and not shoot him in the dick.
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Even in the dark, she knows where his eyes went before covering them. How tempting to be a terror, but alas, she's careful to both be quick and not full on spray him in the face as she rinses him off.
"I'll clean that once we're inside," she says, more serious. "I hope it just needs bandages, not stitches."
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"I just want to be sure you're not bleeding when we get around to the lovemaking."
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He’s also cold, as evidenced by his nipples making wet tents in his near-transparent shirt.
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"I will be distracted by the blood of my beloved, and the mood will be lost."
Seemingly satisfied with his cleanliness, at least at this stage, she motions for him to come closer.
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"Here," she says, turning the nozzle so the spray won't wash his flesh off the bone. "Wash your face."
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He grins —- lighter, swept up in the moment —— and takes the hose. He steps back, just enough to spare her the worst of the spray, and he doubles over to start showering his hair and his face without dripping the muck over the rest of him.
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"Is it strange that I still find you very handsome, even like this?"
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This is a new high.
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He looks at her, finger still on the nozzle trigger.
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As he looks at her, the smile falters as her eyes drift back to the hose.
He wouldn't.
Jill holds her hand out for the hose.
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