Undercover Badge; Next Generation

Chapter thirty five

CHAPTER 35

            I quietly retreated to Jim's side, and then I stared at the doorway. Even Violet and Brandon were quiet now, sitting side by side by their table. Around us the party waged on.

Fifteen minutes later the words crested my eardrum. "Katherine. First floor ladies' bathroom. Quick."

I looked at Jim. He shrugged. So I jogged staggeredly and with my head down past the ballroom's door and down a short, unlit hallway.

The door was nice and wooden and when I pushed it open I froze before I even stepped through. Matthew's bare back was facing me. I only saw it for a second but I suddenly understood why he didn't get dressed in front of us.

A large scar stretched up his right side and across the back of his right shoulder. The tissue was a few shades darker than his flesh color and not shiny like you'd expect. It was simply darker lines on his skin like someone had drawn on him in bronzer, a perpetual dark sun tan of lines. The pattern reminded me of a tree- a bare, skeleton of a tree, all sharp angles like hard, dry branches, reaching over an amazingly muscled back, diverging form what resembled a trunk on his bottom ribs. He was all shoulders and hollows beneath muscle. Each sinewy thread moved and folded gracefully, like watching a jungle cat walk.

A dark part of me purred. I needed to touch.

     He swung a white button down over his shoulders.

In the mirrors over the sink I caught some of the lines of his front. Muscular upper body, the incredible tension in his hips and abdominal core.

"Matthew." I whispered. He spun quickly, turning his side away from me. I caught a glimpse of his wide, muscular chest and only the slightest hint of his abdomen, but he was swiftly buttoning the shirt. Curses. I barely got to look. To examine. To see.

"How did you get here so fast?" he snapped.

"You said to come quickly..." my voice trailed off and I was staring at him quizzically.

"How'd that happen?" I asked slowly. He left the last two buttons undone and began folding his sleeves up to his elbows. His expression went as dark as it used to be before I knew him like I did.

      That was when I noticed the girl on the floor and the guy next to her in front of the cubicles, the vent open and two duffels sitting beneath the hole in the wall.

I quickly locked the door behind me. He was slightly pudgy and now lay in his boxers and loafers, those suspenders for socks wrapped around his calf. The dude was two feet shorter than Matthew but carried extra weight around the top, which explained how the shirt actually fit Matthew very well, cutting in close to his wide shoulders and the narrowing of his waist and hips as he tucked it into his belt. The shirt fit just a bit too tight but I wouldn't complain; it emphasized his cut. The massive square shoulders, the straining biceps, narrower hip bones, but he was still square and strong in spite of the well-defined V his torso made.

    "What the hell did you do!?" I asked, staring at the couple. Matthew reached down for a charcoal waistcoat and swung the thing on over the white shirt. It was too loose around the waist.

"Turn around." I instructed on a sigh. He did as told and I fiddled with the buckle at the back, tightening it until it sat perfectly on him buttoned, further dramatizing the incredible build of his body and making him look leaner. Like James, I realized, startled by their similarity for a moment.

He quickly went about shoving his blazer, hat and mask in one of the duffles. "I got you a costume." He grunted and indicated the girl, picking up the other bag and dragging it closer.