stainless steel racks on the wall next to the shower. The bottom rack had a single white towel hanging over it, the other a pink face-cloth. Stone hung the towel Lilley had handed him over the lower rack and peeled off his t-shirt.
He stood in front of the vanity mirror to brush his teeth and then stripped off his jeans and stepped into the shower. He could see no cosmetics bag, no make-up, and figured everything was neatly stored behind the mirror – but he didn’t check.
He stood under the stinging blast of steamy hot water for exactly five minutes. There was a row of lotions, shampoos and conditioners perched high up on a shelf, but he used the soap to wash his hair. Then he toweled off quickly and stepped back into his jeans.
He came out of the bathroom, followed by a billowing cloud of steam. He left the door open, went back down the hallway to the living room bare-chested.
Lilley was sitting at the kitchen table, looking pensive, looking lost in her own thoughts. It took a moment before she realized Stone was leaning in the doorway, arms folded across his chest, watching her.
She looked up suddenly, not startled, but like she was just coming awake from a dream. She smiled.
“How long have you been standing there?”
“Just a minute. You looked like you were doing some serious thinking.”
She smiled again, kind of lop-sided and wistful, like there was some meaning behind the expression.
“Not really,” she said. “Just daydreaming. Fantasizing actually.”
“About?”
Lilley sighed, then raised her eyes slowly until they were locked on Stone’s, and her gaze was steady and direct. “I was thinking about how long it has been since I’ve had sex,” she said frankly.
Stone’s face didn’t register shock or surprise. “A long time?”
“A very long time.”
“Since your husband?”
She shook her head. “Not quite,” she admitted. “There was one other guy, a few years ago. He worked in Phoenix and came to stay each weekend. We had a thing for a month or so, until I found out he was seeing someone else at the same time.”
Stone nodded. “ But no one since then?”
She shook her head. “For a while afterwards I went through the ‘all men are bastards’ stage, so I didn’t miss the sex at all. But lately…” her voice trailed off, and then she tried another smile. This one turned out better, and brighter as she changed subject. “How was the shower?”
“Hot. Thank you.” Stone didn’t say anything else. He just waited, leaning in the doorway, watching Lilley’s face as her expression went through a procession of changes, like she was asking herself questions and then answering them in her mind.
Finally she looked up at him again, wistful once more.
“What’s BDSM sex like, Jack? Is it really like they describe it in the romance books?” There was a kind of earnest pain in her eyes of longing and desire. “Can you tell me how it makes a woman feel?”
Stone pushed himself away from the door, went towards his knapsack and found another t-shirt. He pulled it on, knowing that she was watching him with fixed fascination. Then he scraped a chair back and sat across the table from her. He saw her bottom lip was trembling, like she was nervous, or anxious, or maybe something else completely.
“BDSM is about power and trust,” Stone said. “It is about a woman giving power to a man and placing her trust in him to respect her and care for her – but at the same time to arouse her and make her feel special.” He frowned as he explained, because now that he had said the words, he didn’t think they were exactly the thoughts he wanted to express. He tried again.
“No woman wants to submit, just for the sake of submitting. Women want a man they can respect and admire to make them submit. They want to submit, but only to a man who is worthy of their respect and trust. Submission isn’t for weak women. It’s for strong women, who know themselves and their needs, and who know
Learning to Kill: Stories