Sunday stared down at it, it read:
Tel: 888-555-3469
Ref: 4397-43-4354-65-00303
The last numbers looked almost like a social security number. At that thought her blood began to boil, it was like Deja vu. Those had been Bridget's exact words. Words she had spoken when she had asked the Iron Ladies for help with a case to bring down a crooked cop named Justin Camfield, he was the pretty face that lured the young women out of their safety net.
From the corner of her eye Sunday caught a glance of Kai Camden, he was with a woman and they were heading over to the lounge area. When he unzipped the front of his pants before taking a seat, Sunday finally understood what was going on even if she couldn't see anything else over there except the top of their heads.
Sunday needed to get out of here, this was a sex club to the tenth degree, but what was the best way to extricate herself. Sunday braced her arm on the bar's counter and used her fist to prop her head up. Doing so made her blonde hair cascade over her shoulder, baring her neck to the vampire gazes of the men that seemed to be turning their focus on to her.
Sunday got up and pulled a twenty out of her purse, she wasn't sure how much the drink was, she never saw a menu or a bill, so she left the entire thing on the bar and headed for the door.
Just as she neared the promise land, the not-so-lighted doorway, a hot and sweaty band wrapped around her upper arm, actually it a was hands, well truthfully they were fingers.
"Where you going?"
"Let go of me," Sunday hissed.
He tightened his hold, his fingers now biting into her skin. "Who are you and what are you doing here, it obviously wasn't to find a man?"
Knowing that time wasn't on her side, it was only seconds before more attention would be on her, her adrenaline pumping faster than her brain, she cocked her right leg back and then in a motion she had used a thousand times, she spun. Her leg positioned right at his kneecap level, she maintained momentum, and executed a perfect roundhouse kick.
Christ, it hurt. Her ankle and shin were throbbing like a Zulu drum, constantly sending hot pulses of dull but still painful pulsations through her leg to the point where her brain felt battered.
The man released her and then she was running out the door. She was slightly blinded by the sunlight. But before she could move, arms encased her, she positioned her self to continue fighting but the familiar voice, "What the fuck, Sunday?" Had her relaxing.
He lifted her into his strong arms and raced toward the car.
"My ankle and shin, I think that I hurt something."
"We need to go to the nearest medical center," Bo ordered the driver as he slid Sunday into the car and then followed behind her, sliding onto the seat.
"What happened inside there?"
"It's a sex club, I think they also buy and sell women," Sunday said through heavy panting. I was getting ready to leave but someone grabbed me, he wouldn't let go. I had to break free, he was solid."
"Who was he? One of the guys with my dad?"
"No, I've never seen him before. But he'd obviously been watching me."
"We're here," The driver said interrupting any further discussion.
Thank god, there were no ambulances taking up the emergency driveway as they pulled up so the driver could let them out. Fighting the pain, she had barely recognized when he had gotten out and told a passing orderly to get a wheelchair.
He and the orderly managed to get her into the chair with her leg lifted and extended.
"Want me to come back with you?" Maybe the pain was addling her brain but his voice was deep, soothing, and reassuring, and a part of her wished she could hear it a lot more and not when they were arguing.
In the examination room, while a nurse was poking and prodding at her throbbing ankle and shin, she answered all of the typical questions another hospital administrator was asking, such as name, age, insurance, and how would she like to pay for today's visit."
Before she could answer Bo was handing his card over to the woman. He caught Sunday's eyes, "Don't say anything, you were on the job for my mother."
"Okay, thanks."
"Is there any chance that you could be pregnant?" The nurse asked making her cheeks heat.
"Ummm, no, absolutely not," Sunday assured her.
"Okay then, we're going to get an X-ray of that ankle and leg."
Sunday hated hospitals. From the smell of bleach and various antiseptics, the glaring lights, the chatter of the doctors, and the groans and moans of hurting patients made it even worse. But more than anything she hated all of the devices which was weird, she knew since she loved computers but X-rays and anything that required radiation scared her, maybe that was her computer research brain and reading everything that had to do with Marie Curie, god, she really was a nerd.
The nurse's actions were tender but the pain that flared up when she twisted Sunday's ankle to get the right angle was excruciating.
When they were done, her leg was strapped up, and she was given some ibuprofen before being wheeled back to her curtained room where Bo was sitting.
"You look like you're about to throw up, you okay?"
"Yeah. I think it's just a combination of stuff, you know? All the smells, the pain, and the realization that I'm a black belt and hurt my leg doing a basic round house kick."
"Ms. Prescott?" Sunday looked up to see a tall doctor, attractive with thick looking dark hair and bright blue eyes, clad in a pristine white coat and he was flashing her a smile that was probably stolen from a Colgate commercial.
"Yes?"
"I'm Doctor Benson, we have your X-rays and I'm glad to say, that nothing is broken. So no amputation."
Sunday practically flew out of the wheelchair at those words until she noticed his quirky smile.
"It's just a sprain, a bad one and sometimes those hurt worse than a break, I'm going to write you a script for the inflammation it should also help with the pain, but other than that you should be good as new in a few weeks."
"Weeks?"
"Yes, muscles, ligaments, and tendons take time. What did you do anyway, kick a concrete wall or something?"
"Or something," Sunday mumbled.
"How 'bout you tell me what happened?" He waited, his hands lightly resting on Sunday's ankle.
"Like you said, I kicked a concrete wall, just this concrete wall was about six foot five and weighed about three hundred pounds. I just wanted to stun him long enough to get away. I'm a black belt in Tae Kwon Do."
"I see." Sunday had no clue why people said, I see, when in fact they didn't see at all, they were just trying to appease. "I'm going to go ahead and give you a cortisone shot, it will reduce the swelling and help ease your discomfort so that the nurse can come in and wrap your ankle and leg. She will also give you an air cast." The doctor reached into his pocket and pulled out a syringe that he had already had filled with what Sunday assumed was cortisone.
"I need you to roll over."
"Huh?" Sunday sounded alarmed.
"This goes in the hip, I'm sorry. I have an injection of Toradol for afterward if that makes you feel any better."
"What will Toradol do?"
"It will really make you feel better, it's a pain reliever." The doctor opened an alcohol pad and wiped her hip before injecting the first medicine slowly. "I know, this one stings a little."
"Why didn't you give the pain killer first?"
"Many people have reactions to pain medications, it isn't uncommon for us to have to administer Benadryl alongside. By giving you a steroid first, hopefully we will avoid any possible reactions."
"Oh." At least ten times a day, when Sunday spoke she wished that she had something more intelligent to say. But nope, oh, was all that was coming to her.
The doctor pulled out another alcohol pad and this time he swiped her arm before giving the injection. "Okay, this is going to make you groggy." When he was done he put a Band-Aid on her arm. "Let me have the nurse come in."
As she waited
for the nurse, the medicine was slowly taking effect, she never had a high tolerance.
"We need to figure out what Sabers really is," Bo whispered, as the two waited.
"Mmm-hmm."
"Do you think it's like some call girl service?"
Sunday wiggled her jaw back and forth. "Ouuu, I don't knoooowww."
"What?"
"Ooowww-ooo," Sunday reemphasized and brought her arms out to her side as if she was the Hulk, she-hulk that is.
"I guess we will continue this talk later," Bo silently laughed.
Bo
Bo heard a rustling sound and looked to his left, Sunday had passed out in the car and was letting out a soft whistle every time she exhaled. When they pulled into the hotel, Bo gave a silent prayer that she wouldn't wake as he lugged her out of the car and up to their room. She needed the sleep.
He immediately ordered room service since they hadn't eaten since yesterday. He kept glancing over toward the couch where he'd laid her. Every now and then she'd let out a moan and lick her lips. He felt guilty because he realized that she wasn't doing it intentionally but it still made his dick instantly harden at the sight.
He waited for the food to arrive before making himself comfortable on the couch by softly lifting Sunday's head and resting it in his lap.
What was he doing? Was he crazy? This wasn't like him but for some reason he liked looking down at her, taking care of her, and those moments when she'd been inside the bar and out of his reach were the longest minutes of his life.
He was watching the television, which he had on mute, and absentmindedly running his fingers through her hair. The food that he'd ordered hours ago was now cold and uneaten. It hadn't been as appealing without her.
"Hey," Sunday's voice was groggy.
He locked eyes with her, “Have a nice nap?"
"How long was I out?"
"Let's see, today is Thursday."
Sunday bolted upright, "No it isn't. Oh my God, I can't have been asleep for three days."
"I'm joking. Are you hungry?" Bo asked.
Sunday tilted her head side to side as if pondering that thought. "Yeah, maybe just a little."
Bo pushed himself up from the couch to go fix her plate. "I just need to pop it in the microwave real quick. Want water or something else to drink?"
"Water is fine," Sunday hollered from the couch.
Once she was done, and he'd cleared away the plates, he returned the couch. "Is there anything particular you want to watch?"
"Have you seen anything from your dad?"
"Yeah, they all came back about a few hours ago. But seems like they went their own separate ways tonight because my dad and the woman he's here with have been locked up this whole time. Once I realized they had no intention of leaving the bedroom, I stopped checking."
"Don't blame you," Sunday whispered. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For taking care of me."
And before he knew what he was doing, he leaned down and kissed her on her cheek. It was a simple kiss, but it sent something deep within his chest that he didn't want to ignore, not anymore.
Sunday
Sunday sat on the couch and watched the news while Bo showered. She tried to focus, but her mind wandered as she sorted through her feelings. Perhaps it was the medication, but she had to admit that Bo wasn't a bad guy. He was sweet, caring, and--she sighed--sexy as hell.
When he had tried to make out with her the other day, she had panicked. Guys like Bo didn't pick girls like her. Her mind had flashed with a thousand ways he must have been setting her up just like Cal had done back in college. Only, this time, it would hurt so much worse because she was older and wiser and should know better. She scoffed at herself, wiser, right.
She shook her head, Bo wasn't that kind of guy. According to his mother he was the epitome of morals. Yes, he'd been an asshole when they'd first met, but she knew why he'd reacted to her that way. Even now, while she was laid up and injured, he had been nothing but kind to her, fetching her things and tending to her needs.
She would like him to tend to her other needs.
She blushed, liking the thought more and more the longer she let it simmer.
Then Bo walked out from his room--hair damp and wearing nothing but loose pajama bottoms. Her gaze fixed straight to his toned abs and, as her stomach clenched and flip-flopped with excitement, slid farther down.
He probably could tell where she was staring, but she didn't bother to hide it. If she had a chance with Bo, she was going to take it. No freaking out and sending him away this time.
Bo smiled and sauntered over to her. "How you feeling?"
She swallowed hard as she watched him approach. "Better. Much better, thanks."
"Do you need anything while I'm up?" He came to a halt in front of her, and it took great effort to lift her gaze to his face.
He grinned down at her.
"No," she said and then touched her tongue to her bottom lip. "I'm just taking it easy."
"You're probably pretty sore," he said. "Need a heating pad? A massage?"
Her hand went to her neck as a shy smile tugged on her lips. "I think I'm fine."
He made a soft mm-hmm sound as he positioned himself on the couch beside her, removing her hand from her neck, and then began to massage her shoulder. His fresh clean scent wafted over her, and she found herself sinking back toward him, reveling in his heat.
His massage deepened, and she had to admit that it felt pretty damn good. She could use more of these in her life.
It was incredible. His touch sent little sparks of excitement through her, right down to her core, and she let out a little moan. At first, she flushed, but then she determined she wasn't going to let her hang-ups and insecurities get in the way of what was rapidly becoming a good time.
His hands slid down her shoulders, and he leaned forward as he cupped her breasts through her shirt. He paused, as if waiting for her signal to back off or keep going, so she arched her back a little, encouraging him. He began to massage her breasts, and she let herself melt back against him, until her back pressed against his chest. He kissed the top of her head and continued his massage. She tipped her face back so she was looking up at him, and he dipped down to touch his lips to hers.
As they kissed, his hands followed the curves of her waist. Her hips rocked into the touch, and she moaned softly into his mouth. He broke the kiss long enough to urge her to turn around to face him. As she did, he slipped his hands under the hem of her shirt and tugged it up over her head, revealing her blush-colored bra.
He reached around her to unclasp it and then guided it down her arms. She looked away, unable to quite bring herself to make eye contact with him as she sat there in just her pants, her breasts exposed. He leaned forward and, taking one of her breasts in his hand, sucked on her nipple. His tongue swirled around the areola, and a shudder wiggled through her.
As he moved his mouth to the other nipple, he wrapped his arm around her and nudged her back onto the couch. He lowered over her, gently biting her nipple. She closed her eyes, relaxing into the moment, as he released her breast and kissed a trail up her chest to her neck. He buried his face against her, kissing and sucking, and she lifted her hips, grinding against his thigh. His hand slipped under her head, and he brought her up for a deep kiss. She parted her lips, and his tongue slid over hers as he claimed her. Her nails dragged down his back, and she brought her legs up to wrap around his waist.
In one quick move, he brought her forward, his arms tight around her, and hefted himself off the couch, lifting her with him. She rested her head against his shoulder as he carried her to his bedroom, knocked the door open, and crossed the room to his bed.
Gently, he lowered her onto the mattress and then grinned down at her as his fingers played with the top of her pants.
"Let's get these things off, shall we?" he said.
Sunday nodded, smiling, and then tipped her head back as Bo unfastened her pants and tugged th
em down being careful as he maneuvered around her ankle air-cast. Once he had worked her jeans all the way off, he tossed them aside. His finger traced down the front of her panties, and her breath hitched as her thighs parted wider. He caressed up and down, touching where she was already wet through her panties before leaning down and pressing his lips against her. Sunday moaned, her hips thrusting, begging for him to take her.
Bo hooked his fingers around the top of her panties and he tugged them down, revealing her pussy. He planted a solid kiss before finishing removing her panties and tossing them next to her jeans. Sunday tried to sit up, but Bo pressed his palms on the inside of her thighs, pushing them back, giving him access to her sweet folds. She relaxed back against the mattress, and he dipped his head to stroke his tongue between her legs from back to front stopping at her clit.
Sunday let out a gasp, gripping the blanket on either side of her. He licked again, deeper and harder this time. Her heart raced, and she couldn't remember the last time she had experienced anything as amazing as his tongue gliding up and down her, exploring her as her breathing grew increasingly rapid.
Her body tensed, and she was so close, so ready to go over the edge. Then he pulled back.
A little moan of surprise escaped her, but his only response was a wicked grin before he slid two fingers inside her. Sunday gasped, her hips lifting, and he pumped his fingers in and out of her, slowly at first and then building speed. Her hips rocked with him, spurring him on. She wanted him to take her, all of her, bring her to orgasm, but he was taking his time, teasing her, and she didn't want it to ever end.
After a few more thrusts, he slid his fingers free.
"Come here, baby," he said in a low, husky voice.
She sat upright as he slid down his pants, revealing his enormous hard cock. She let out a small giggle at the sight of precum on the tip of his shaft.
"Umm, should I be concerned by you laughing as I pull down my pants?" Bo asked.
"No, no, sorry." Sunday flung one hand across her mouth to stifle another laugh that seemed to bubble up inside her.
Sweet Vengeance: Ladies (Iron Orchids Book 14) Page 8
