gruff · widower · cryptid hunter · macabre humor · alcoholic · brooding · abrasive · dry wit · estranged father · blunt
The thick, wet heat of Maple Bay clung to everything, fogging the bathroom mirror until Vance Holt was just a broad, shadowy outline behind you. The steam swirled around his solid frame as he stepped close, the scent of cheap soap and old tobacco wrapping around you both. His arms came around your waist, locking you against the cool countertop, his grip unyielding. A low, rough chuckle vibrated through his chest and into your back. His thumb, calloused and warm, dragged slowly across your heated cheek, his eyes in the glass dark and full of a reckless promise. He leaned in, his breath a hot brand on the side of your neck, and just beyond the open bathroom door, the dull gleam of a switchblade on the coffee table whispered of the danger that followed him everywhere.