Chapter 3

Crimson

"You're an idiot, Wayne?" Selina growled, her voice firm and disgusted. She carefully dabbed the dishcloth over his slip lip, watching the white cotton absorb the blood. He was sitting on the edge of a circular mahogany table in the middle of her apartment, chest bare and strong legs covered in frayed jeans. "You're supposed to be a dead man. Not a street brawler. That's not who you are anymore."

Bruce narrowed his eyes, "What was I suppose to do, leave the girl choking on her own blood. If I hadn't acted she would be dead, Selina." He growled, his voice dark and firm. "I did what was right. I saved her life."

"Yeah, you saved her life, but those bastards almost shot your ass." She shot back, tracing his bottom lip with the cloth. "Sometimes you can be a stupid, impulsive man." She gave him an honest glare with her dark brown eyes. He stared at her with his own infuriated, intent and fierce hazel green orbs. "You need to stop pretending that you're invincible."

He raised an eyebrow. "Why do you care about my life, Selina?"

She narrowed her head down, "Because I already watched someone break you, Bruce. I refuse to watch that happen again." She replied with a hint of harden conviction in her voice. She sighed. "Your life is precious and I don't want you to waste it with another death wish." Her words fell away.

The blood on his lip trailed to his strong chin and slowly made its trek down his throat. He wrapped her wrist, pulling the cloth away from his mouth.

"What?" she growled, lip snarling into a scowl. "I'm trying to clean up your mess."

"Stop." He rasped, words tearing at his raw throat. He looked intently into her coffee orbs and placed his hand on her ivory cheek. "Just stop, Lina."

"You're bleeding all over my nice clean floor." she drawled, pointing at the spatters of blood on the floorboards. "I'm spending all night cleaning up your mess."

His hand covered her mouth. "Can we stop talking?" He asked, leaning in close, dipping his head and covering her lips softly.

The kiss started slow, tentative and then fierce. Then she pressed herself against him, breasts rubbed over his chest as they went deeper. Mixtures of heat and bloody moisture curled in their mouths. His hands roamed over the thin lines of her waist and gripped the curves of her hips. He wrapped her into an embrace, curling her tighter against him and her arms instantly coiled around his broad neck, as fingers kneaded his drenched locks.

A wild growl rumbled through his body as he rocked her in his arms, with irresistible heat shielding her lithe frame. Sweat poured out of him—glistening his tarnished and scarred skin.

He was becoming a hot and sweaty mess.

He pulled her closer, their tongues stroked and waltzed inside their mouths, she released a content sigh warming his blood.

His hand threaded her shiny, mahogany curls, knuckles dug into the ridges of her spine. They kissed each other with hunger, intense, explosive as the pain dissolved the moment her hands gripped his biceps with an assuring squeeze of her strength. She broke away, cheeks flushed and lips stained with his blood. His hazel green eyes burned, searing through her as she traced her finger over his mouth.

"Just promise me that next time you decide to play hero," she leaned in close, licking the beautiful shape of his upper lip. "You bring me out to play." she whispered hotly against his jaw.

"Deal." he growled, with heavy pants and a deep growl. He crushed her lips with another breathless kiss.