With respect in his voice, Atlas asks, “How long ago?”
“I was eleven, so sixteen years.” Heading for the bathroom I frown as I walk the carpet runner, hardwood on either side of it. The door opens before I touch the handle and Celia is standing in front of me, dark hair up in a bun, face freshly scrubbed, golden skin glowing almost as brightly as her warm brown eyes.
“Oh, Sean, hey.”
To keep her here with me a few seconds longer, I motion to the room. “So, is there some stuff I shouldn’t touch or…?”
She registers the question and flips around in a friendly way. “Here, let me show you.” We leave the door open as she explains, “This used to be just a bathtub. We had a shower installed in it. Or they did, Scratch and Mona. They’re not here anymore.”
“They pass away?” I ask, still thinking of my father.
Celia reacts, “What? No! They moved to Montana! We have a few houses. This one is the South’s home base.” She points to the long counter under an antique mirror clouded by time. I glance down to her breasts, can’t help but notice how her bra is gone and that cotton halter is old and flimsy. I can see the exact outline of her erect nipple. Instantly my brain pictures her naked. Can’t hear a word she says because my blood rushed down. Her voice has become a soundtrack to a porn scene unfolding in my mind. Door shutting. Her asking if I want a tour of her body next. Me planting her muscular ass on that old marble and going to work, making her writhe and buck and yield to me.
“Sean?”
Flying up to meet her eyes I lick my lips and cough. “I didn’t hear any of that.”
She stares at me, and then bursts out laughing. “Are you always this honest?”
“Pretty much,” I smile, relieved. “Sorry, I’m a man.”
Her forehead wrinkles on a sarcastic smile. “Yeah, I noticed that.”
Instantly my cock is wondering what she means. Is she as attracted to me as I am to her? “You thought I was a teenager, too?”
“The way Jett described you, yeah. Atlas and I talked about it last night. Neither of us expected you to be between our ages. He’s twenty-five, I’m thirty-one, almost thirty-two.”
Setting my satchel down I lean against the marble and cross my arms. “You planning on living here all your life?”
“Yes.”
“Most people don’t want to live with their parents that long.”
She pulls the circular shower curtain into place, smooths the folds as she explains, “We don’t just live with our parents. We work together on jobs that we can’t share with the regular world. We train to fight. It’s a very communal, live/work existence, which might seem strange to some people but…we look out for each other in ways that you’ll come to find out, if you become a Cipher.” Celia gives me a lopsided smile, nude lips soft and mesmerizing. “Well, you can find your way around now. I’m going to bed.”
Quickly I blurt, “So when I shower in the morning…”
Will you join me?
She cocks an eyebrow, waiting for the rest. “Yes?”
I wish it was a yes.
“I didn’t bring shampoo, I just realized. Does everyone use the same bottles?”
Both hands fly up in stop gestures. “You’re not allowed to use our shampoo! You didn’t bring your own?”
My mouth goes slack. “Uh…”
Celia grins, takes a step closer and hits my chest with her knuckles. “Kidding! Use any of them. We get the supersize from Costco. It’s nothing special. Sometimes I buy the good conditioner but with all the long hair in this house it vanishes so quickly I just give up.”
“You know what the trick is?” Sage asks, poking her head in, long red hair hanging straight and shiny, body hidden by the wall. “Put a little regular lotion on it after it dries. Just a little on your hands, then smooth them over your head and bam, it’s as good as conditioned.” Darting a glance to my head she says, “You’d have to use very little since you’ve got short hair.”
Amused I argue, “It’s not that short.”
Celia tells Sage, “For a normal guy his hair is longer.” She reaches up and touches it, sending goosebumps down my neck. “See? Hanging a little over his ears here. And this part on top is very long.” Combing it with her fingers, she has no idea that I want her to do this forever. Her touch is something else. Especially since the girl is ripped. I would have thought she’d be rougher, but nope.
Shrugging, Sage smiles, “It looks pretty short to me, Ceels. But he’s cute. You’re cute, Sean. We didn’t expect you to be cute.”
Watching my reaction, Celia laughs. In fact they’re both entertained and curious how I’ll handle their combined assault. Pheromones are flying. “Sage, I’ll be honest.”
Celia announces, “He’s brutally honest, so wait for this.”
Suppressing a grin I tell the redhead, “There is no way in hell I’m putting lotion on my hair.”
“You wearing that to bed?”
“No.”
“What are you wearing to bed?”
“I know a fish hook when it dangles in front of my mouth,” I smirk.
Celia walks out, “We’ll leave you to your business,” closing the door behind her while Sage bends to keep eye contact. The redhead gives a little wave right before the click.
CHAPTER 6
C ELIA
Every Cipher home has come out to the backyard, circled our training area to find a good place to watch. It’s a patch of ground that the elders tore the grass out of decades ago, just past the enclosed back-porch. Now it’s covered with thick pads in the shape of a large square. The padding is portable for inclement weather. Not drizzle, but when we get a real downpour we drag these pads to our waterproof shed, wipe them down, treat them like some people treat their children when they’re sick.
Jett’s in loose jeans, tight belt, no shirt,
