I don't know why but this feels like this is the most intimate moment I have shared with another person. With the way that he stares intently at me, he seems to agree. Once I have finished taking his shirt off and tracing his chest, I grab the wash cloth between my hands and I move to his shoulders.
I scrub the blood away from his body slowly. Paying attention to each crevice and indent in his well sculpted self. His breathing has returned to normal, but his stare remains fixated on me still. I pass over his tattoo on his arm and start to see what it really was. There is a dagger wrapped in vines and roses. It had to be the most beautiful tattoo I have seen. Most mafia men get tattoos with blood dripping and skulls, not very tasteful if you ask me, but not Lorenzo. He seemed to have a mea
