Not to mention the very unpleasant burning sensation I feel below the equator in the region of my vagina.
“Stop, Liv.”
Gabe. That sounds like Gabe snapping at Liv, and for a brief second I wonder what his deal is before everything comes streaming back in nightmarish images of fear, pain and finally the acceptance that I would die.
“Remy? Babe? Open your eyes my darling.”
I hear that husky murmur and feel a smile touch my lips, almost curling the corners. That accent—not quite British, not quite American—still has the power to send tingles to my bits, burning sensation or not.
“Thirsty,” I whisper, my eyes still closed because, as aware as I am, they just won’t cooperate and open no matter how hard I try.
“Okay, babe. I’m putting the straw in your mouth. Slow, babe,” he croons, letting me drink my fill before wiping at the water that dribbles out and down my chin.
No wait, that’s not a napkin.
He’s kissing the water away, softly murmuring to me, telling me how much he needs me, cherishes me, as he patiently waits for me to open my eyes.
By the time I slowly raise my lids, blinking rapidly to clear my vision, I already know lots: that Chase has already moved all my stuff into his house, and that Gabe has taken Liv’s stuff to his place.
Oh, and apparently I’ll be going on a leave of absence, already approved by the mayor himself until Chase is completely convinced that I am safe. Liv too, but that is Gabe’s cross to bear.
Am I annoyed that my whole life has once again been ordered for me according to what a man wants? Not even one iota, because while I had successfully stopped myself from thinking of Chase while those animals had Liv and me, I admit that I’d raged at the thought of never seeing him again.
Never looking into his strangely beautiful eyes, never kissing his lips or holding him. Okay, and maybe I’d also reeeeaally miss the sex, ‘cause far as I know, you can’t do that stuff in heaven.
Where I was going? Definitely—I think…hope.
Hell, I should probably give a shoutout to church sometime for this miracle.
“Hey there, darling.”
I blink and grin when I see Chase smiling down at me, his eyes a mixture of gentleness and a fierce intensity I know he doesn’t mean for me to see. No, we’re not on the ‘love train’ as yet. It’s way too soon to even be thinking love, never mind saying it, but I know that he truly cares for me and that my getting hurt and almost croaking is not sitting well with him.
“Hey, Money Bags,” I tease, seeing him grin before his eyes narrow.
He loves the nickname as much as he hates it and always laughs when I say it in a singsong voice.
“You feeling okay?”
I nod only because if I tell him how shitty I feel, he’ll have the doctors and nurses in here medicating me and I don’t want that, not so soon after that horrifying experience of not having any control over my body.
I doubt I’ll even take aspirin after this.
Or not, since my leg then makes its state known and I remember why it feels like my bone is shattered—because it is.
“What happened?”
I look away from him to see Liv glaring down at me. Gabe is there smiling slightly, looking all kinds of relieved. And there are five other men, all freakishly huge, smiling at me with affection.
“This crazy woman dragged you out of there with a broken arm and a whole lot of determination. We found you, but I’m pretty sure she’d have saved you anyway since it looked like she was getting ready to throw you over her shoulders and powerwalk to get you help.”
The man who says this is massive, and hot in that dangerous way that I think military guys have and, wowza, with that dark brown hair and steely gray gaze, I’m practically drooling. And I’m not even getting started on the other four hunks of hotness behind him. My jaw is on my chest as I lay there and just take them all in.
“Wow.”
“I know right?” Liv cooes, giving them all the once over and turning to me with big eyes. “Girl, when I saw these five coming my way I just about forgot my arm was broken and you were two breaths away from death. Major man candy!”
Gabe grumbles and pulls her close, his eyes blazing at the men, and I hear a distinctly inhuman sound coming from Chase the longer I stare.
The men chuckle and come forward and introduce themselves one at a time, all taking my hand, kissing my cheek or forehead, or in the case of the blond, kissing my hand and totally ignoring Chase’s grousing.
“Babe,” he barks, stepping into my line of sight, his brow furrowed.
“Sorry? Who are they?”
“The big fucker to your left, Brick, is an old friend. The rest of the men are his team. The men I called as soon as I realized that you were missing. They tracked you and Liv and got there just in time to have you airlifted here.”
He pauses and swallows, his jaw ticking so hard I hear his teeth grinding.
“Bad, huh?” I say sympathetically, lifting a hand to stroke his stubbled jaw and bring him down for a kiss.
He takes my lips hard with more urgency and possession than necessary, and I almost giggle when he pulls back and throws a glare behind him.
What a caveman.
I indulge Liv and hug her and let her chatter till I feel my eyeballs water from the headache boring into my skull. I’m just really glad that I am still alive to hear her babbling. It’s a nervous habit of hers. A trait that I’m not too familiar with since Liv so rarely had the need to feel nervous.
I let her talk until the guys are rolling their eyes and Chase is practically hopping with impatience.
“Liv, I think Remy needs some rest, her eyes look about ready to burn out here.”
“Oh! Sorry,” she murmurs, leaning in to kiss me on the cheek. “I’m just so happy you didn’t kick it, Rem bear. I thought I lost you when I couldn’t see you breathing and—”
Gabe picks her up when she starts choking up and throws me a wink.
“Glad you’re okay, Rem. Get some rest, I’ll bring dynamo back in the morning.”
They all clear out eventually, the really huge one taking up position outside the door, just daring a soul to try anything. It makes me feel secure, safe and relaxed enough to close my eyes for a minute.
“Those guys…they were working for someone, weren’t they?” I ask, keeping my eyes closed when the pain subsides a little.
The bed dips and I feel a cold cloth settle over my forehead and eyes, my groan of appreciation making him chuckle and sweep his fingers over my cheeks.
“They were just muscle.”
His voice is tense and I lift one corner of the cloth and crack an eye, my lips twisting at his guilt-filled expression. For some reason, he’s blaming himself. No matter what, why, or how happened or even if they happen again, I blame only those responsible and I refuse to let him feel differently.
“Whatever you’re thinking, stop. Please. I’m just glad to have made it out and to be with you again. I don’t want you to blame yourself instead of concentrating on us. Together. Healthy.”
He swipes a gentle finger over my eye and lowers the cloth.
“We don’t know who did this yet and Brick and his team are going to track the men who took you and Liv, but I swear to you, I will find everyone responsible and—”
“Call the cops.” I intone, huffing when he swats my hand away from the cloth and kisses me to shut me up.
“Hush. What happens to them is not your concern. Just get better so I can take you home,” he murmurs, kissing me again, this time with a little tongue.
It doesn’t escape me that while he’s furious about the circumstances, Chase is also very satisfied to be getting his way. I’m moving in with him, and I highly doubt that I will move out again anytime soon—if ever.
“Thank you for saving me, Chase. I wish you were there before.” I breathe sleepily, my words slurred as I start drifting off.
“Me too, babe.”
Ch
apter 17
Remy
“Stop. I can do it.” I hiss, closing my eyes and breathing deeply when Chase just ignores me and picks me up to lower me into the bathtub. “Chase, hon, you’re really going to have to cool it with this overprotective stuff. You haven’t been to work in four days, not counting my time in the hospital, and quite frankly you’re driving me nuts.”
He glares and I glare right back before a giggle bubbles forth. I cover my mouth to stop the sound but he hears it and narrows his eyes at me, his mouth thinning.
“The doctors had to put three pins in your leg and drain your knee. You’re not hobbling around on that till the cast comes off. End of fucking story, Remy.”
“But…”
Okay, so maybe I’m being pissy, but I’m still smarting from the realization that the burning sensation that I’d woken with first day in the hospital was in fact one of those monstrous tubes they shove up your pee hole, and that the bag that collects said pee was hanging in Chase’s view the whole time.
Not only do I now have to live down my boyfriend giving me a sponge bath—humiliating—but he watched as the nurse removed that tube as well. I can honestly say after that I don’t feel an ounce of embarrassment about my body anymore.
He’s seen the absolute worst already.
“This is still about that bloody—”
“Don’t even say it Marshall,” I warn, sinking into the bath water with a huff. “That never, ever happened.”
My eyes are closed but I distinctly hear a muffed chuckle before he shuffles over to the toilet and sits, his usual ritual since he’s paranoid about leaving me in the tub alone.
I fell asleep one time and he’s never gonna forget it!
And don’t even get me started on the rest of it. He won’t have sex with me, he tries to carry me around everywhere, totally ignoring the crutches the doc gave me—and he tried to spoon-feed me this morning!
He’s being a smothering mother hen and monitors my every move. He even tried to help me wipe yesterday because…well, God alone knows why, but he tried. I had to threaten him with bodily harm before he backed off.
Have I mentioned he won’t have sex with me?
So maybe I’m a little fixated on that one topic, but my period is coming up and my window of opportunity is closing, fast. Plus, I am really horny right now. And who can blame me?
The man sleeps with me smashed to his chest, his arms securely fastened around me like tentacles, and he does not wake up flaccid—ever.
You try sleeping with a hot piece of man flesh—his boner poking at your clit as if the poor darling is seeking refuge. I’m frustrated and so needy that I flat out yelled at him about it this morning.
Know what he did? Nothing. He pecked my lips and rolled out of bed without a word. Went to the bathroom and then went to make me breakfast.
I hadn’t gotten laid, or even a good, stress relieving fight. Nada.
And now he wants to sit in the bathroom watching me bathe and start tenting his pants, all the while denying me? Dammit, it isn’t fair, I whine silently, doing a mental foot stamp.
“Stop sulking.”
I open one lid and stare at him stonily, noting the way his eyes follow my hands as they skim over my belly and over my breast, grazing my already pebbled nipples.
His tongue comes out to lick at his lips and I almost moan with need when his teeth sink into the soft flesh of his bottom lip and bite down hard, his eyes drooping.
Ah, finally! Lust.
“Hey, Chase? So you know how you won’t have sex with me for like, ever?” I ask, purring softly when he swallows and his teeth go back to his lips before he manages to drag his eyes away from my hands and breasts.
“Huh?”
“I said…you know how you won’t have sex with me for ages and ages because you’re being stubborn?”
He swallows and nods, his eyes firing two different shades of blazing heat at me.
“Well, the doctor never said a thing about not having sex solo. So far as I can figure, if you’re going to continue torturing me by holding out, I’m going to have to take matters into my own hands.”
I force my voice to sound regretful even though I’m almost bursting with mirth. Typical man. I mention masturbation and his eyes flare and so do those nostrils of his. And God have mercy, that mouth.
He’s licking his lips and staring at my naked form, just beneath the surface of the water, as if he’s imagining—
“Don’t.”
My right hand halts it’s progression down the line of my flat stomach, pausing right above my pubic bone. My fingers flex, itching to hit their target and I almost moan when his fingers mimic my actions before closing into a white-knuckled fist.
His breathing is choppy, I note, synching with my own harsh breaths and it turns me on even more when his tongue flicks out and the tip worries at the crease in his upper lip.
With this position—my right leg raised and balanced on the rim of the tub—Chase can see every part of me, so I flex my inner muscle, knowing he’ll see the movement.
“Christ. I just don’t want to hurt you.”
Aaaaw, how sweet and totally not helping his cause right now.
“I know. But I really don’t think you will.”
My hands are still exactly where I placed them, one resting above my mons, the other just below my left breast, fingers framed as if offering him my nipple.
“I would. Believe me. My first instinct when you woke up in that hospital, when I knew you were safe, was to strip you bare and sink into you. I have this overwhelming need to fuck you till we’re both exhausted, till I can prove to myself that we’re alive and well and that I won’t…lose you. But the need is too strong. I’d hurt you if I lost control.”
“But you’ve lost control before,” I say breathily when his eyes come up to meet mine.
Believe me. Chase has fucked me plenty hard and dirty since the first time he put his mouth on me. I like it—a lot. I would not be averse to some hard loving. In fact, I really would appreciate that a whole lot more than being coddled right now.
“No.”
“No? What do you mean, no! This is so unfair—”
“I mean, no, I have never, not once lost full control with you in bed, Remy. If I took you without a thought, just let myself go and unleashed it all on you, I am terrified that I would hurt you. And that’s not even taking your leg into consideration.”
Oh man, oh man, oh man.
Seriously?
I swallow a little, suddenly unsure of the course I’ve taken. I’m no shrinking violet but I can honestly tell you that my leg had hurt like a bitch those first two days and still does, only I’m used to it now so it’s not that bad.
Since there are like a jillion pins holding my bones together so it can knit properly, I feel it and I have no business upsetting that apple cart right now, not until I get over my fear of pain medication.
But, and God help me I know this is wrong, but I can’t seem to heed his warning when he talks like that. Does he even realize that he’s talking about reclaiming me, reaffirming our life together, as if he’s already decided that we’re it?
I don’t think the poor darling even thinks of me—us—in terms of love because he is such a man. He sees what he wants and he gets it, me included, and once he has possession he polishes it and hoards it like candy, like a piece of artwork, like something of value that he will never tire of.
That thought warms me as nothing else does, so I make up my mind, blushing profusely when I meet his gaze and make my play.
“I understand, and truth be told, I don’t know if I’m ready to risk banging this baby around just yet.”
The disappointment and understanding in his eyes make me smile though and I decide to take this to the next level. My hand flexes once before I slide my fingers down, my middle and index fingers framing and opening me up so he gets a nice, clear view.
“But that doesn’t mean we can’t do other things,” I purr,
gasping when he howls out a curse and flies up, dropping down beside me.
Chapter 18
Chase
Looking at her without touching is torture—pure agony—and I’ve spent the last few days in constant conflict about even sleeping in the same bed for fear that I’ll snap and fall on her like a starved, rabid animal.
But that’s not even worth considering. Ever. Now that I have her in my home and bed for good, I’m not willing to put any distance between us. Perhaps I should have given her privacy, or maybe I should have hired a nurse because, honest to God, resisting her when she’s all but threatened to diddle herself in front of me is about the last straw.
And then comes the real last straw, the fucker that goes ahead and breaks that gasping camel’s back is seeing her spear her fingers down and spread herself as if offering me, a starving man, a feast for the gods.
Here’s the thing. I love eating my woman, even to the exclusion of being inside her because—and most dudes won’t believe this—her pleasure is more of a high to me than my own.
Everything about putting my lips and tongue on her is magical. The delicate folds that are different shades of fuck-me pink. The ways she smells clean and musky all at the same time. Her taste… Fuck, I can’t describe it I just know it’s the best thing I have or will ever have sliding down my throat.
And then, finally but definitely not least, I am addicted to the way she sounds and looks when she climaxes. Remy is a beautiful woman—to me the most beautiful—but in that final second, when her body is reaching and then overcome by the pleasure, her face screws up and she looks so…lost and weird, yeah weird, like she’s in pain and blissed out at the same time.
If her contractions don’t already let me know that her climaxes are real, I promise you, her come face is a dead giveaway and I fucking love it.
Now, on my haunches beside the bath, my hand an inch from paradise, I have to take a deep breath and remind myself that Remy and I cannot have sex tonight. Or tomorrow night. Or the night after.
CALLIE (The Naughty Ones Book 1) Page 39
