Michelle Bravo Playing With Fire, Chapter 40

Michelle returned to the room, not only with a glass full of amber liquid but with the decanter as well.

Keller was lying propped up on the bed, using the remote to surf through the TV channels. He looked up and his eyes lit up as he saw her offerings.

He took the glass gratefully, said thanks, and downed it in one gulp.

He held out the glass for more, and Michelle filled it half full from the decanter.

She put the decanter down, lifted her dress a bit and climbed on her knees onto the bed. She heard Keller catch his breath as she leaned against him from behind, placing her hands on his shoulders, and began to massage the tense knots of muscles there.

She couldn’t see his face, but he dropped the remote onto the bed and rested his hand on his thigh.

“Feels good,” he said, with a catch in his voice.

“You’ve had a rough time,” Michelle murmured.

Keller sipped a bit of his drink. “In more ways than you know,” he murmured, almost too low for Michelle to hear.

“Unbutton your shirt,” she murmured.

Keller finished off his drink and let the glass drop to the bed as well. He unbuttoned his shirt with fingers that trembled a little, and shrugged out of it. Michelle’s hands were cool on his skin and she rested her belly against his back as she continued to massage his shoulders.

Keller reached down and unzipped his trousers…he must be getting aroused and needed a bit more room down there. But he made no other mood, just sat there, letting her massage his shoulders, his hands resting helplessly on his thighs.

Michelle shifted to one side and pressed him down gently onto the bed. He laid back wordlessly, gazing at her silently. She laid down beside him, propping herself up on one elbow, and began to kiss him gently on the mouth. He responded tentatively, reaching up to rest his hand on her other arm.

Gradually he let his hand slide down to her wrist, and pulled it gently so that she would rest her hand on her chest. He then reached out for her waist, and tugged at that gently. She responded as she hoped, and straddled his chest with her knees, while she kissed him. He rested his hands on her hips.

Then, suddenly, he gently pressured her to get off him. Puzzled, Michelle did as he bid, and he rolled over onto his side, his back to her, his hands over his face. Was he crying?

Tentatively, Michelle leaned up against him, just to offer him the comfort of her body. He reached out with one hand and took her hand, but did not turn.

After a few minutes, she deduced that he had fallen asleep.

Son of a bitch, she thought. I knew there was a reason why I hated liquor. Two glasses of brandy, or whatever the hell it was, and he’s out like a light.

But she knew that he had fallen asleep from nervous exhaustion. He must have been in hell the last week. Of course, she’d meant to put him through hell, when she’d thought he was an amateur who was trying to put his skills against hers, as a professional. But to have lost his memory, and to be told he was a cold-blooded killer, and yet not to feel like a cold blooded killer…interesting how one’s morals and ethics held true even if one couldn’t remember one’s own name.

Michelle rested her body against Keller’s warm form and sighed. Her work was so uncomplicated – black and white. Her personal life….way too complicated.

What was she going to do?