The Beasts of Juarez, R.B. Schow [books to read for self improvement .txt] 📗

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been stabbed twice,” he said, removing his underwear. “Those were the two times when it was almost too late.”

He stepped past her, stepped into the bathwater, then slid down and reclined, his knees coming up. “Oh, my God, this is amazing,” he purred.

She looked at him and said, “I’m getting some fruity shampoo and a fresh bar of soap.”

“You brought both?”

“Of course.”

She returned a few moments later, saw the poor state of the water, and said, “This is just unacceptable.”

Cira reached into the tub to pull the drain plug, but he stopped her. “Let’s wash my hair first, and my beard, and then we can drain it. I want the hot water, even if it’s dirty water.”

“You’re going to make mud if we clean you any harder.”

He laughed then said, “It’s not that bad. Plus, the tank needs time to replenish the hot water otherwise I’m going to be stuck taking a cold bath which—if you don’t already know—does wonders for the male member.”

“You’re stupid, you know,” she said. “I don’t care about that.”

“Every woman cares about that to one degree or another.”

“Whatever,” she said, waving him off. “How do you feel about raspberry-lemon?”

“Do I get a sucker with every wash?”

“Yes,” she grinned.

Cira washed his hair and beard and then got the bar of soap wet and washed his back and arms. He took care of his chest and armpits, then he handed her the bar.

“Okay, let’s drain it,” he said.

They watched the cloudy water go down the drain and then they ran the faucet again, getting lukewarm water at best. She left the bathroom only to return wearing only her bra and a sexy pair of underwear. The sight of her took his breath.

“Oh, my God,” he said.

“Turn around!” she replied, motioning for him to stop looking.

With great reluctance and some serious self-control, he turned away and gave her the privacy she requested. A moment later, she stepped into the tub, slid down behind him, and snaked her legs in over his. A pair of arms curled around his midsection and he felt her breasts being pressed into his back. This was not what he expected when he had agreed to come to Juárez but apparently, Cira had ideas of her own. Then again, who was he to stop her?

He handed her the soap and said, “I don’t think you need it, but if you do…”

She lathered up her hands, then reached around and soaped his chest. Then she went lower, and then even lower. Going with it, he leaned back into her and let her have her way with him.

“I can’t believe it’s been nearly six months,” she said.

“Since we saw each other last?” he asked.

“Yeah, but also since I’ve been with anyone,” she admitted.

He turned and shot her a look, her hand still on him. “Are you being serious? You haven’t been with anyone since you and I…since last time?”

“I’m serious,” she said, letting go. “I was both so nervous and excited to see you, and then when I saw you, I thought maybe I’d time-traveled back to the Stone Ages. The way you looked, I was like, I freaking waited for this?”

He laughed then apologized, and then he said, “I think it’s time to cut my hair and beard.”

“I think you’re one thousand percent right.”

When they were done with the bath, the two of them walked a few blocks up the street where they found Plaza Torres. There, they picked up a plug-in set of clippers, a comb, a can of shaving cream, and some razors. They also found a suitable button-up shirt and pair of pants for Atlas at the tattoo parlor in a side display that was labeled “Seasonal.”

“If I wasn’t full from the tacos,” Atlas said as they were walking back to the hotel, “I’d have us stop at Tabasco’s Restaurant & Bar. The nachos look amazing.”

Cira started laughing because the large advertisement display for the nachos looked green and unappetizing.

“I might’ve just thrown up in my mouth a bit,” she said.

“Do you have toothpaste?” he asked.

They turned around and went back to the same mart they bought the razors from and picked up a tube of toothpaste and a two-pack of toothbrushes.

“When I let you make out with me later,” he said as they started back to the hotel once more, “I want you to have fresh breath.”

She laughed then said, “I don’t get you, Atlas Hargrove.”

“What’s not to get?” he asked.

She took his hand in hers and said, “When I picked you up in prison, you were like this comatose patient who assaulted a guard and flat-out murdered his cellmate. Then half a day later you’re cracking jokes and flirting with me?”

“You were flirting with me first,” he said.

“See? There it is again.”

“As a SWAT commander,” he said, becoming serious for a moment, “I always found that staying lighthearted when you were about to go into the shit helped keep everyone loose. You saw how tense Leo got at the border, right? I’m surprised that when he got out of the Audi his asshole wasn’t suction-cupped to the leather seat that’s how puckered he was.”

“I saw it,” she said, “but it was the same for me.”

“That’s a normal response, but we can’t be normal people because this isn’t a normal situation.”

“True.”

“As for ‘getting me,’ I just have to say, there’s something about you that I really like. You make me want to be calmer, less…aggro all the time.”

“Ooh, tell me more,” she said with a seductive grin.

“I can’t say for sure what it is, only that it’s a number of factors and they all leave me feeling…intoxicated around you.”

Smiling, walking with a little more pep in her step, she said, “I sure hope you clean up well because if not, I’m going to