by K. Webster
We’re both out of breath and sweaty. My cock is still hard inside her, draining out my release from within her so that it runs down the crack of her ass to the bed below.
I lift up so that I can see her pretty face. She’s still a mess—makeup smeared everywhere and hair all over the place—but she’s beautiful. With Sophia Rowe, the beauty is more than on her surface. It’s her fire and strength and power that rages beneath. Like a roaring blaze—the colors are brilliant and hot—but if you touch it, you’ll burn. So all you can do is stare.
Her stomach grumbles, cutting through the intense moment like a blade. I smirk at her before kissing her lips. “Think you can be a good girl? I’ll shower you and feed you if you can.”
She gives me a half smile. Sweet and sated. “If not, you’ll just have to spank me again to keep me in line.” She tugs at the handcuff. “But I could do without this.”
My dick throbs inside her. “I kind of like it. Looks good on you.”
“Ass,” she says, her voice smiling like her lips.
“Crybaby.” I wink at her.
After I free her from the cuffs, I help her to the shower. She winces with every step and concern trickles through me. Yes, the drugs are a problem. But her pain is a bigger fucking problem.
“What did the doctor say?”
“Won’t know anything until next week,” she breathes, her face red from exertion.
“After we shower and eat, I want to massage you again,” I tell her, my voice gruff. “I want to see if you’re inflamed.”
“Try to keep your dick in your pants,” she jokes but then whimpers from pain.
I hook an arm under her breasts and carry her into the shower. She sags against me, no longer having the energy to stand on her own. Eventually, I’m able to help her sit on the ledge in the shower and clean her. I can’t tell because water runs down her face but I think she’s crying. Silently. Sadly. Crying.
With furrowed brows, I lean in and kiss her forehead. “We’re going to figure this out, Soph.”
Her green eyes flicker briefly before dimming. “Okay,” she agrees but doesn’t believe me. It only makes me want to try harder for her. Someone has to help this poor girl. She’s mine to help.
After the longest shower known to man, I dry her off and help her into some clothes Olivia retrieved for me. Her hands shake and I know it’s equal parts pain and need for the oxy she’d been popping left and right. Thankfully, she doesn’t ask for pills. I don’t want to have to tell her no. I will but I won’t like it. And she’ll hate it. It’s better if she can be strong for the both of us.
“Can you walk downstairs or do I need to carry you?”
She looks around the room for her cane. “Uh…”
“I didn’t think to grab it in my haste to get you from Brody’s.”
“I’ll need help then,” she admits, her bottom lip wobbling.
Gently, I scoop her into my arms and carry her through the house. Her breathing is soft as she buries her nose against my neck, clinging to me desperately. I’m not sure how Sophia and I drifted together but it happened. Over the course of nearly a year, through mutual annoyance, we somehow began an attraction that hid below the surface of the venom we spewed to one another. All it took was one touch. A simple, brief connection. And then the attraction was too strong. Obliterating. It grows more with each day. This is more than an attraction though. This is a need to fulfill the other. A desire to complete.
I set her on the counter beside the stove and then set to preparing lunch. She watches, a small smile playing on her lips, as I work. Spaghetti is one of the few things I can cook, so I make her my specialty. She samples the sauce and stirs it while I work on a salad. The quiet is comfortable. Eventually, she breaks the silence.
“I’m sorry about everything, Drew.”
I lean in and kiss her mouth. “You’re here and you’re safe. That’s all that matters.”
A breathtaking smile spreads across her face. “What did my sister think about us seeing each other?”
I snort. “She high-fived me and said it was about time.”
“Sounds like Olivia.”
“She also said your dad was going to castrate me when he finds out.” I wince at the thought of Judge Rowe beating my ass. For his fifties, he’s cut like a motherfucker.
She laughs. “It can stay our little secret.”
“For how long?” I growl. I’m not one to keep secrets. I do what I want. And I want Soph. The rest of the world can go to hell.
“I won’t be of age until March.”
“And?”
“Aren’t you afraid of getting arrested?” she retorts.
I abandon the stove to run my palms up her thighs over her yoga pants. “I’m not afraid of anything.” That’s a lie. It scared the fuck out of me seeing her naked and about to get tag teamed by a couple of stoners.
“Your face says otherwise.” Her tone is challenging and her arched eyebrow is sexy as fuck.
“You’re mine now. End of story. That’s all that should matter to anyone.”
“I’m yours,” she mocks with a laugh. “Your what?” Despite her teasing nature, I sense the vulnerability in her words. She wants to be someone’s everything.
“My tits,” I growl as I give them a squeeze. “My mouth.” A nip at her lip. “My pussy.” A rub with my index finger that makes her mewl. “My girl.”
“Well then,” she sighs when I pull away from her. “Glad we got that out of the way.”
He’s Mr. Serious as he kneads my flesh, a scowl painting his handsome face. It hurts but he gave me another pill after lunch. I’m embarrassed and infuriated that he’s feeding my pills to me as prescribed but I also realize how necessary it is. I’d let myself get out of control. Even I can admit that. Not that I like it one bit at all though.
“You’re swollen.”
I’m always swollen. “Yep.”
“Your skin is hot to the touch too. Are you feeling okay? Feverish?”
I don’t feel well but then again, I never do. “I’m fine.”
His jaw clenches as his fingers dig deep into my skin. I cry out, my back arching off the table, and burst into tears. He jerks his hand back and then his mouth is kissing the soreness. Once I’ve calmed, I stroke his hair and let out a ragged sigh. “Are you sure you want to be with someone like me?”
He lifts his head and his gaze is predatory. Feral and pissed. “Don’t ever insult me again,” he snaps. “Ever.”
I roll my eyes but I can’t help but smile. He’s being an ass about it but I read through it to get to the compliment. I’m worthy. That’s what shines through. Me. Worthy of a guy like him.
Business mode is back on as he attacks the sore spot. Again, fire blasts through me so hard I think I’ll vomit. He backs off and his eyes dart all over me. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to make a call to a buddy of mine from college.”
Random.
After a quick kiss to my lips, he bolts. As soon as he’s gone, I decide I’ll go take a hot bath to ease some of the pain. I can walk without my cane, just not that well. Carefully, I stand and begin hobbling toward the bathroom. Slow, measured movements. Pain sears down my leg with every step. I don’t understand how I’ve gotten so much worse the past week. Maybe I’m just feeling what it is to not be doped up as much as I’m used to.
A bizarre numbing sensation blasts through me and my leg gives out. It gives out completely sending me hurtling to the tile floor in the bathroom. My arms flail to stop myself from crashing but I don’t make contact with anything. I manage to grab the towel rack but it comes out of the wall seconds before my head hits the toilet with a pop. The rest of my body smashes into the floor on my hip. Pain, so explosive and violent, causes me to pass out.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”
I blink my eyes open to the panicked masculine voice. When I find focus, hard navy blue eyes are staring down at me. Fear flashes in them.
“Thank fuck,” he bellows as he holds me again
st his chest. He’s rocking me against him as he strokes my hair. “I shouldn’t have tried to detox you from that shit, goddammit.”
As much as I could use this moment to get my drugs back, I don’t. My throat feels parched but I croak out some words anyway. “It wasn’t the pills.”
He frowns and kisses my mouth. “What happened?”
A wave of nausea ripples through me and I close my eyes. “I don’t know. My leg gave out. Felt like it went numb and then I was crashing.”
I try to sit up and the pain explodes through me where I fell. Bile creeps up my throat and the room spins. I’m weak. So weak.
“I’m taking you to the hospital. Something is wrong.”
I shake my head. “I’ll be fine. I go through spells. This is just a spell. Dr. White said he’d have word back for me later in the week regarding my results. I can wait until then. Just get me some ibuprofen and we’re good.”
He glares as if his fire gaze will make me change my mind. I glare right back.
“Fine,” he huffs. He’s pissed.
I smile and touch his handsome scruffy face. “Fine.”
“Rowe,” Coach Long barks. “Get off your ass and go help Mathis.”
I refrain from rolling my eyes. I want to be irritated that Drew set this whole thing up for me to help Coach deal with injuries but I’m not. I’d actually been excited when he told me over dinner with my sister and her husband.
The pain is less today than it was on Saturday but it still hurts. I haven’t seen Brody or Curtis at school today either. I’m not sure what happened. Guilt gnaws at me. They were fucked up. I’m not sure they meant any real harm. Drew vehemently thinks otherwise.
The new cane Drew got me is just like my other one. Black. Simple. But it gets the job done. With a pack full of supplies, I limp out onto the football field where Coach Denison is barking at a couple of guys I know playing lacrosse. When I glance back at Coach, he’s already got his back turned yelling at someone doing hurdles. From the grass on the sidelines, Jaime Mathis pouts, his black hair a mess on top of his head and sticking up in every direction.
“Let’s see it,” I say with a groan as I get to my knees beside him.
Gingerly, he pulls off his left cleat and begins peeling away his sock. As soon as I see his ankle, I know it’s sprained. Swelling has started and a faint purple hue is already forming.
“It’s fine,” he grumbles. “Tell Coach D it’s fine.”
I glance up at Coach Denison to see him watching with narrowed eyes. Jaime is their star. He runs like the wind and is graceful on the field. It makes him swift and unstoppable.
I take his foot in my hand and feel the bones. Nothing feels broken. Drew teased me about my anatomy book but it’s something I am obsessed with. Once I got hurt in softball, I did an insane amount of research in sports medicine to try and find ways to heal up. That research evolved into learning other things. It’s definitely interesting to me.
“I’m going to wrap it but you should sit out. If you keep going, you’ll cause unnecessary stress on the joint.” Our eyes meet and defiance flickers in his gaze.
“I said I’ll be fine.”
I apply pressure to his sore ankle causing him to hiss. “No, you won’t. Let me do my job.”
When he gives me a clipped nod, I set to wrapping his foot. I offer him an encouraging smile. “If you can stay off it for the rest of the week, you should be fine to play in Saturday’s game.” A wave of dizziness washes over me and I blink it away. “If it worsens by this time tomorrow, you should go to your doctor to make sure it isn’t fracture—”
A cloud of darkness swarms around me. I feel as though I’m spinning before I black out completely.
“Soph!”
I jerk my eyes open to see a panicked Jaime staring down at me. He’s holding me across his lap, his brown eyes flickering with worry. “W-What happened?”
“I think you fainted. It’s hot. Maybe you should get some water,” he urges.
My nerves feel like they are zinging with electricity. “I will. As soon as I catch my breath.”
He nods but his lips are pursed together in a frown. It isn’t until Coach Long yells from across the field that I jerk out of my stupor.
“You’re not here to make out with the lacrosse team, Rowe! You’re here to work!”
Jaime shoots him a glare before helping me to a sitting position. “Tell him you’re sick,” he says, his tone urgent. “Jesus, you’re pale.”
I swallow down the bile in my throat and shake my head. “I’m just hot.” And detoxing. “I’ll be fine. Please don’t tell anyone I fainted on you,” I beg.
“Soph…”
“I’m fine.”
He stares at me for a beat longer before he nods his concession. “Be careful and rest.”
I feel bad because he’s the injured one and is helping me back to my feet. He favors his good leg but is still much stronger than I am as he hefts me upright. Once I have my cane in hand, he tosses my supplies back into my pack and helps me put it on over my shoulder.
“Thank you.”
He nods. “Take care of yourself, Rowe.”
“They hate me,” I groan as I inventory medical supplies that were just delivered to Drew’s office. It’s been three days since my fainting spell. I’d like to say I’ve felt better but it’s more of the same. Dizziness and waves of nausea. Weakness in my leg. Lots and lots of pain.
“They don’t hate you,” he murmurs, his fingers tapping away furiously on his computer. “They’re scared of you.”
At this, I snort. When he told me he had an intern position at his clinic just for me every day after my time with Coach Long, I was secretly thrilled. Not only do I get to see him, but I get to learn some really cool stuff. The only downside is that I’ve made half his staff cry in the past. The other half hates me by default.
“Spend the night with me tonight,” he demands, never looking up from his screen.
I smirk. God, he’s so hot when he’s being an asshole. Today he wears a black polo that looks sharp against his tanned skin. His dark hair is tousled and sexy. Those full lips tugged in a smug half-grin.
“Dad might get mad,” I taunt. I like watching the vein in his temple throb. “Can you imagine what he’d do if he knew Drew Hamilton, the sexy physical therapist, was fucking his teenage daughter? You think he’d torture you first before he killed you?”
He picks up a foam football sitting on his desk and throws it at me. I duck and it hits the wall behind me. “He’ll get the fuck over it,” he says with a huff.
“Oooh,” I tease, “we have ourselves a badass here.”
“Get to work, little girl. I’m not paying you to stand around and be a smartass.”
I laugh and meet his heated gaze that’s now on me. “You’re not paying me. I’m an intern. Free.”
His brow arches. “I was going to pay you with my tongue.”
Heat floods through me. “Is that so? Maybe you should pay me right now.”
“Right now?” His voice is husky. “Is that a dare?”
I bite my lip and nod. “I dare you.”
Abruptly, he rises from the chair sending it rolling back into his credenza. “Lock the door,” he barks.
I gape at him wide eyed. “I was kidding.”
“And I’m not. Lock the door, baby.”
His endearment warms me to the point I willingly obey. Once the door is locked and my back is to it, he prowls for me. He’s the wolf and I’m the bunny caught in a trap. I want him to bite me.
“Take off your jeans.”
“Bossy.”
“Take off the fucking jeans before I get my scissors over there and cut them to shreds.” His glare means business. Those threats don’t scare me though. My panties are wet for him. Always.
“You might have to help me,” I murmur. I wince at how weak I sound. I’d meant to spin it sexy but it came out as desperate.
His hard gaze softens as he reaches for the button on my
jeans. He doesn’t give me shit for my plea. Despite his gruff exterior, Drew cares about me and my well-being. Without effort, he plucks the button and unzips my jeans.
“Are your panties soaked, Soph?” His voice is liquid lust as his words trickle over me. I let out a moan when his mouth finds my neck and he licks me to my earlobe. Then he bites me just like I wanted. “I bet they’re so wet you could mop the floors with them. What do you think, baby? Should I smear your scent all over my office?”
“Dirty…”
“I can think of a thousand other dirtier things to do with your drenched panties.” His palm roves up my front to my breast and he squeezes it with his hand. “I love these tits.”
I tilt my head up at the ceiling and a hiss of breath escapes me when he gently pushes my jeans down my thighs. Quickly, he plucks off my tennis shoes and takes my jeans off completely. I’m left standing in my shirt, panties, and socks. His navy eyes flicker with hunger as he scans my body.
“You don’t have to do this,” I squeak out, suddenly nervous. Drew and I have had sex several times in the past week. His fingers have been everywhere. But his tongue? He hasn’t used that yet. Not there.
“Quiet, Crybaby. I’m going to eat your pussy and you’re going to like it.”
Well then.
I whimper when his palms slide up my thighs and his thumbs brush against my sex over the silk. If my panties weren’t drenched before, they sure as hell are now. He hooks a finger inside the fabric and pulls it away from my body.
“Goddamn, Soph, you’re wet as fuck.” He’s not even that quiet and some of his staff are still here.
His eyes are fire and need, blazing out of control. With an almost furious edge, he jerks my panties down to my knees. He stops long enough to run his fingertips along the wetness inside. I groan when he brings it to his mouth and sucks.