Page 46 of The Cute Psycho

My eyes are intent on her for a moment before I look around, mentally calling Vanya.

She's gone.

I quietly walk around the room, noting she's nowhere in sight.

Interesting.

Propping myself against the wall in front of the bed, I study Assisi's sleeping form, wondering just what exactly it is about her that's making Vanya disappear.

Maybe it's her holiness.

But just as the thought arises, a chuckle escapes me. According to what I've learned of her, that's definitely not the case.

Curiosity brimming inside of me, I take a step closer, carefully taking a seat on the bed so I can inspect her better.

With her eyes closed, her lips slightly parted, she looks almost angelic. Her hair, unbound, with strands scattered on the pillow, resembles a halo around her head. I don't think I've ever seen a lightershade of blonde. Her heart-shaped face is objectively exquisite, the red mark on her forehead only enhancing its uniqueness.

Just at that moment she moves, shuffling around in bed, the sheet slowly sliding down her body.

Fuck!

My eyes widen as I realize she's not wearing anything underneath. It had been easy to refer to her as a girl until now, but as her ample tits pop free, her nipples puckered and standing to attention, I realize my mistake.

She'snota girl.

Fuck, but I didn't realize little miss nun would have the body of a porn star.

I also note another thing. Just above her breast, there is a gnarly scar in the shape of a cross. I frown, but as my eyes move over her chest, I see more scars, some smaller, some bigger, as if she'd been tortured for years.

Where did she get those?

A small sound escapes her lips. Her features drawn up in a frown, she continues moving around, the sheet sliding even lower.

I blink twice at the unexpected strip tease show in front of me. Unwittingly, my eyes rove over her naked flesh, down her small waist, taut stomach and...

"Christ, she might still make a believer out of me," I mutter low, unable to believe what I'm seeing.

Rolling around in bed, she ends up closer to me, the curve of her ass in the air as she moans deep in her throat.

I stand up, suddenly uncomfortable with the direction of my thoughts. I feel heat creep up my cheeks, and I have to shake myself.

Think about murder, or mutilation, or breaking someone's bones.

Scaphoid, trapezium, capitate...

I hum to myself the bones I enjoy breaking, slowly finding some modicum of control.

This was only supposed to be a test. A way to rationally explain to myself why Vanya would disappear in Assisi's presence.

Not an exercise in how fast I can lose my mind.

Cursing under my breath, I avert my gaze, focusing on an empty corner to gather my thoughts.

There has to be a logical explanation to it.

But the more I think about it, the more I realize there has to bemoreto this. I can't possibly solve a twenty-two-year-old problem in one night. And so I must come up with something else.

Assisi is restless in her sleep, the rustling of sheets only serving to distract me from my mental exercises, tempting me to sneak a peek at her rather enchanting backside.

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