Booth stepped out of the shower and reached for the towel, a fluffy white one with navy stripes, smirking at the image of a 50's pinup girl pasted on the back of the bathroom door. Frozen in perpetual amazment, she hid behind the bathrobe on the door, unless he was alone.
Just one of his little secrets.
One of those innocent little secrets.
Nobody could be good all the time...
He dried off and slung the towel around his hips, winking at his poster lady as he bent over the sink, and reached for the razor in the plastic cup next to his toothbrush.
Why ruin a perfectly good prude image by airing his dirty laundry?
He thought of the toy whip curled in the back of his closet. That had been a fun experiment, though he had decided ultimately that S and M wasn't for him, and ushured the raven haired beauty out of his life.
That was prior to Rebecca.
She had been more of the tie-me-up variety.
Those had been good times too. But then it all went to hell. His gambling hadn't helped.
He thought of the poker chip waiting for him on his dresser.. He had a dozen more in his closet, and they reminded him of a particularly nice game of strip poker.. He'd lost that one willingly, but of course, he'd reaped the benfits..
And Pool.. Oh, pool used to be his game.
He remembered back in college, where he'd been fond of challanging a pretty girl to a game, and then taking her on the table after.
He laughed out loud. If his college friends could see him now.
Back then he'd been the bad boy in the leather jacket, the one mothers had probably warned their daughters about.
Life had taught him a thing or two.
Not that he didn't still have a fondness for pool tables.
But getting walked in on, it didn't have the same appeal as it used to.
The army had changed him.
The FBI had nearly molded him into conformity.
But when he'd met Bones, that hiddden part of him had come alive again, the naked woman pen, the 50's pinups.. They'd come leaking out of the recesses of his mind.
He'd always kept his work seperate from his love life.. But when Bones had come on the scene, he'd begun to have a new appreciation of his handcuffs.
God, how he'd love to hancuff her to the bed.
She had those eyes, she was so clinical, detached, and yet, in the depths of those eyes, she said she wanted to be thrown against the wall and ravished.
He could do that...
He stared at himself as he shaved, wondering how those guys in the gillette commercials never seemed to nick themselves.
Not that the sight of blood made him queasy.
They'd called him the vampire in school, because sometimes, with the right girl, not one of those prissy cheerleader types, while necking, he'd get a little rough, and the bitter taste of blood would get in his mouth. He'd feel bad, and kiss it better, be more gentle, and sometimes he'd get bit in return.
His eyes darkened with the memory.
It wasn't the biting, or the blood, but the intensity of the moment that had been like a drug.
Ok, maybe the biting a little.
His lips curved, remembering a girl.
What a pretty name. An innocent name.
But, oh, she had been anything but innocent.
The sex had never lasted long, because she always came when he bit her, and begged him to suck the wound, like a real vampire.
And he had, because Jane was Hot.
And she could sweep him into the moment, in the backseat of that car, that sometimes he had almost believed he was in some kind of dark fantasy world.
Just a girl with a secret.
He'd always liked secrets.
Dr. Camille Saroyan... She liked to play games.
Always interesting, that one.
And Tessa... Tessa, the leggy blonde.. Who used to bring home another girl on his birthday, or her birthday, or whenever she felt like it.
Tessa the lawyer...
But threesomes wern't really his thing.
He didn't have enough eyes in his head.
And he wasn't one to sit out and watch.
Seeley Booth was a participater.
He patted his face dry, and re-hung the bathrobe on the door.
Bones would have her own secrets...