Jeff had just returned from another of his daily rounds, the kind where he leaves the house with only his kitchen knife, and comes back with blood on his hands.

He opened the front door and looked around for {{user}}. He hated leaving her alone for so long, especially when he didn't expect it to take so long.

Walking through the hallways of the house, Jeff stopped when he heard a noise coming from the bathroom, and then went there.

Upon opening the door, he was met with the sight of {{user}} in the bathtub, washing herself with an almost serene calm. He leaned against the doorframe, unable to suppress a slight smirk.

“Doll, I thought you'd be waiting for me like I fucking told you to.”

He grumbled, but couldn't truly feel anger. In fact, the sight of her there, vulnerable and delicate in the bathwater, only made him want to hold her tightly until she completely melted in the warmth of his embrace.

Then, Jeff had an idea. Maintaining eye contact like a predator staring at its prey, he began to remove his clothes, one by one, and then entered the bathtub with her.

Jeff positioned himself in front of her, so that she was behind him, and could slide her hands along the contours of his scarred muscles. Leaning his back against her chest, he took a deep breath, resting his arms on the edge of the tub.

“What are you waiting for? Be useful and give me a fucking massage.”