Kylie Bray (Love, Hate and Billions)

Chapter 50 (Kylie)

I have never seen his body, so it is something new to me. His stomach and chest is hard, ripped, with

lot's of ginger hair on his chest, there is no meat under his skin, just muscle.

I have seen better, but yet I can't deter my attention from his hard sculpture.

Slipping his pants off I watch him, waiting for him to pull down his black jockeys, to reveal his sinner.

Vincent doesn't remove his last piece of clothing. With one foot at a time he steps into the tub with me,

and lowers himself on the opposite end, all the while I watch him.

Putting his head back, he closes his eyes, and still, I watch him.

“Why are you staring Kylie.”

“I hate that name, call me Frost.”

His eyes remain closed, head bent back, chuckling at what I just said,

“It is your name no?, a few months ago you loved it, I'm sure you will again.”

“You mean like I loved you.” The silence is sound once I say it.

He sits up, tilting his head to the side, capturing me with his killer eyes. A minute ticks on before he

says, “Yes.”

I am not sure why that word has me breathing heavy, but it does.

His eyes drop to my naked chest.

I haven't looked at myself in the mirror since the incident and I don't want to, but the way he is Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

concentrating on my breast maybe I should.

“Did you enjoy killing that man, was it everything you hoped for.” I mimic his head giving him my

attention.

“The day you left that dock your soul died, it is only fair they die too.” His answer is interesting and I ask

myself is my soul really dead.

This thought confuses me because I feel dead, but at times there are glimpses of something surfacing.

I get up out of the water, not caring that I haven't washed my body. Grabbing a towel I leave him in

there alone.

My gown is slipped on my wet naked body and I go to the small kitchen.

Pouring a glass of vintage red wine, I let out a small breath of air.

My feet move me to the lounge area and without a thought I turn and go out the sliding doors, standing

on the balcony.

I inhale the night’s air as I take a sip of the red wine.

Music begins to play, it's soft, haunting, and magical at the same time. It reminds me of Prague's

cityscape at dusk.

So Gothic yet enchanting.

Closing my eyes I try to feel the music, deep within me.

Hands wrap around my torso, giving me a fright. Jumping, my glass leaves my hand.

Vincent catches the almost empty crystal before it hits the floor, putting it on the small outside table

right next to where I stand.

With his other arm still wrapped around my stomach, it finally makes sense of what this music really is,

A melody to my fall.

His body begins to sway from behind mine, and I feel him breathe me in,

“Dance with me,” he says those three words, a caress against my cheek.

He doesn't wait for my reply but spins me around, holding me tight.

One hand on the top of my back, the other lower.

His fingers splay, as his body moves flawlessly across the small area of the balcony.

The night sky painted in stars, as haunted shadows shade my heart. I close my eyes and begin to

dance.

There are no thoughts but his hands on my body, his body against mine, bounded together in this

obsidian night. Sparks of life, tease on the brink of awakening, with it a small hopeful breath breathes

into me.

We dance to different tunes throughout the night. We have no words to say, no confessions we are

willing to make, it is just the two of us, our feet in sync, moving to unfortunate melodies.

For the first time since he took me from that dock, I feel alive.