"Why do you do this? What satisfaction could you possibly get from this chaos?" All over the evening news was his days work; bank robbery, breaking into a museum, defacing the historical presidential display.
A soft, deep laugh is the response that I get. I stand up from the black leather sofa and look towards him. Aside from the sheets tangled around him, he was naked. His pale skin dimly lit by the light from the television across the room. Intense emerald eyes, outlined in black and fixed on me. When he looks at me...its like he can read my mind. Or look into my soul. He knew the good and the bad; he saw the darkness inside and it just made him smile.
"You know I don't think like that, Bats. I do it because-"
"Because you enjoy it. But there's got to be more."
"So much more." Those blood red lips twisted into a malevolent grin. Those luminous eyes bore deeper into me, taunting, teasing, inviting. I move slowly, eyes never straying from his. I reach the end of the bed. I reach him. Looking so glorious, sprawled across the mattress. He looks up at me, his tongue flicks out of his mouth, across his lower lip. That weird quirk of his that he knows I love. He knows what buttons to push. If I'm honest with myself, that's why I love him.
I'm on my knees on the bed. His legs on either side of me.
"Jack." My voice comes out deep, a thick rasp laden with desire. A sharp intake of breath, an increase in his pulse.