Santi jumped when Tim called, and her feet made a soft<span style="font-style: italic">squeak</span>against the bottom of the shower as she slipped just a little before recovering her balance.  Hastily she brought her hand to her face to wipe away any tears, in case he barged in, even though with the water and steam he probably would never know anyway.  She certainly didn't react to cover her nudity; showing the tears would be far more disturbing to her.<br/><br/>She glared at the door, irritated, considering not answering at all.  He'd betrayed her; he didn't deserve for her to answer... he didn't have the<span style="font-style: italic">right</span>to be concerned for her.  Not after what he'd done, even if she<span style="font-style: italic">had</span>beaten him for it afterward.<br/><br/>But if she didn't answer, he'd come into the bathroom; she had, after all, made sure<span style="font-style: italic">not</span>to lock the door.  She didn't want him to.  She didn't care for him seeing her nude, wet, and vulnerable... no, she usually liked that with her men.  But this was supposed to be her own time, her time alone.  She hadn't actually<span style="font-style: italic">said</span>so, though... she could forgive him looking in on her.  But she didn't want him to.<br/><br/>Did she?<br/><br/>She actually shivered despite the sauna-like extreme heat.  An image, or rather a memory, came to her, from before; how Tim and his construct Sven had manhandled her and forced her down Tim's throat.  Even then she had been enraged and terrified but at the same time conflictingly aroused.  Part of her, a<span style="font-style: italic">large</span>part of her, had enjoyed that they hadn't given her a choice; that she had been helpless.  Had he not<span style="font-style: italic">eaten </span>her she might have not only shrugged it off, but enjoyed it more than she'd disliked it.<br/><br/>The problem was that he'd crossed a line.  She liked being dominated, even abused --- it wasn't like any welts stayed on her for long --- but such events were always based on trust, and in trying to get her to trust him, Tim had instead crossed a line and<span style="font-style: italic">broken</span>that trust.  No matter that she was still here, or had apparently been re-formed unchanged; he hadn't known when to stop, and that was the problem.<br/><br/>She stared at the door.  It wasn't locked... if she didn't answer he would look in, she was almost certain.  In a strange, perverse way he held some kind of concern for her.  He would look in, see she was all right, and... and what?  Leave meekly?  Or would he walk in and talk to her?  Or even do something domineering?  He wasn't the type, was he?<br/><br/>Who knew when Sam would be back; they might be alone together for a while.  Hell, who knew if Sam wasn't even now betraying them in some way?<span style="font-style: italic">No, don't think such nonsense,</span>she thought with a frown.  But what if he was?  What if there was more to him than he had shown?<span style="font-style: italic">Oh, shut up!  He risked his life for us!</span><br/><br/>But if something happened... if, for example, Sam was arrested... that would leave her alone.  Alone, with Tim.  And she would have no one to rely on but him.  No one.  She couldn't be mean to him... couldn't alienate him now... much as it scared her, she would have to face him.  Face him, and face her own conflicting reactions to what he had done to her.  Face her body's reactions... face his body... maybe even its belly...<br/><br/>She turned her head away, staring at the glass wall of the shower, her eyes wide as she saw her own thoughts.  She<span style="font-style: italic">knew.</span>She knew what she would have to do, eventually.  She could already see it... but she was afraid.  And she knew there would be only one way to really conquer that fear.  But did she dare?<br/><br/>Or for that matter... would<span style="font-style: italic">Tim</span>dare?<br/><br/>"I'm fine," she called, raising her head, not facing the door.  Two words... they would be enough, surely.  "It's not locked, if you don't believe me."  Okay, those words hadn't been intended to come out, had they?  It was an invitation, wasn't it?  She didn't<span style="font-style: italic">want</span>him to walk in... did she...?<br/><br/>She scowled to herself.  She wasn't sure what she really wanted right now... or even needed, really.  But she still doubted Tim had it in him to take charge of her the way deep down she knew she wanted.