Dorothy stiffened at his sickening sweet smile. He looked like someone who wouldn't flinch at tortured victims being skinned alive. Instead, he'd probably laugh and sip his wife.
Adeline's eyes went wide, a gasp leaving her mouth. He was slightly leaning back, her hands pressed upon his chest, her knees in between his thigh, and closed to his manhood.
Calhoun chuckled at her words, taking it in a literal sense, he said, "I don't think you would need me for it, Sophie. The paints are there in the room. Just take the can and pour it on yourself."