by E A Price
Collecting herself, she ran to the kitchen and got a fresh bowl of water to re-clean the wounds. She was pleased to find that they had already stopped bleeding; his body was already repairing itself. She had once operated on a shifter who had been shot with a silver shotgun cartridge, and his stomach was riddled with pellets. They couldn’t find them in time to prevent him from dying. His screams of pain haunted her to that day.
She worked diligently and soon had his wounds clean and dressed. She looked up to find him watching her.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice already stronger.
Lucie bit her lip as she looked over her bloodied and clawed couch. She could care less about the piece of furniture, but she didn’t really want Cutter to fall asleep on it. “Do you think if I supported you, you could make it upstairs?”
He thought about it for a few moments before nodding. She disappeared to turn down the bed for a few minutes and returned with some painkillers. She stood over him, tapping her foot until he took them.
Soon enough, they were struggling up the stairs. He grunted at the pain of trying to move his injured leg, and she puffed at the effort of trying to carry a huge wolf shifter. Thankfully, she only had a small house.
She arranged him on her bed and pulled the cover over him. “Not exactly how I pictured getting you into my bed,” she whispered to herself.
Cutter chuckled, and her cheeks turned pink. Clearly, she hadn’t whispered that quietly enough.
“Lucie,” he reached out and snagged one of her wrists, pulling her down to the bed, so she perched on the edge. “Thank you, for helping me. I don’t deserve it.”
“Hush now,” she soothed while plumping his pillows.
“If I’m going to die…”
“You’re not going to die,” she corrected him forcefully.
Cutter shook his head. “If I’m going to die, I need you to know… I really want to fuck you before I die.”
Lucie pursed her lips at his extremely unromantic sentiment. “How lovely.” She decided to put that down to the painkillers. With any luck, they would do their work, and he’d be snoring in a few minutes.
“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s just do it, but I’m sorry, I’m not feeling my best, you’re going to have to do most of the work. Climb on.”
He started pushing back the covers, unveiling his taut, delectable body and his surprising erection that pointed at the ceiling. Lucie made herself look away as she grappled with him to pull the covers back up. If she looked, she might actually be tempted to, as he said, climb on.
Finally, Cutter gave in, but only because he fell asleep, and she covered him. She sighed as she watched him sleep. He really was perfect - so masculine and so roughly handsome. She reached her fingers to his body, tempted to trace the scars that graced his frame. To leave marks, those injuries must have hurt and silver must have been involved, but they didn’t detract one iota from his gorgeousness. Now he had another two scars to add to his collection. Her hedgehog whimpered in pleasure at seeing him in their bed. Although, she really wished it hadn’t been under these circumstances.
Lucie dragged her feet to the bathroom and took a long, scalding shower as she worried about what had led him to her. She couldn’t even begin to guess. Someone had shot him – well, yes, obviously. Someone who meant to kill him - given that they used silver bullets, that was a definite. Cutter didn’t want to go to a hospital. That part worried her the most. As much as she would like to think that Cutter came to her instinctively because he needed her above all other people, she knew his actual first port of call would have been a hospital. If he didn’t want to go to one, it meant he wasn’t prepared to answer any cops’ questions. That didn’t bode well.
Whatever had happened, she needed to wait for him to be coherent to find out. She was sure it would be reasonable. She was a little uneasy about that. She was sure that Cutter was a good guy, but he was also kind of prone to being hotheaded and irrational. She just hoped that whatever the situation, it could be salvaged.
Her fingers traced over her lip where Cutter had touched her. He said she had beautiful lips. He said they were his. He was delirious from pain. With a sigh, she finished her shower.
Lucie pulled on some flannel pajamas and curled up in the recliner in her bedroom reading a romance novel. She felt too wide-awake to sleep and wanted to be there in case Cutter needed her. Her eyes flicked between her book and her patient until, surprisingly, her eyes drooped and she slipped into slumber.
*
Cutter jerked awake and sat up abruptly. Ignoring the unusual throb in his shoulder, he bared his fangs and reached for his gun. He patted the bed beneath the pillow and frowned as he found it empty and discovered that the bed sheets were soft and silken under his touch – that made a change from itchy and scratchy.
His wolf stopped howling and instantly calmed as the smell of blueberries enveloped them. Cutter looked around the room and his eyes alighted on the huddled form of Lucie. She looked tiny curled up in the recliner.
The events of the evening flooded back to him and he rubbed his fingers over the bandages Lucie must have placed over his wounds. He remembered getting shot – damn hard to forget – but everything after that became a little blurry. He escaped his apartment and realizing that his injuries were serious – nigh on fatal – he made his way to the first person he could think of.
Perhaps he should have bit the bullet – pardon the expression – and took his chances at a hospital or a free clinic, but, honestly, he wasn’t sure if he was going to survive, and he wanted to be with Lucie. A million regrets had fluttered through his mind, but chiefly among those was the fact that he wouldn’t get to see his son again and that he had never given Lucie a chance. In the absence of Dean, who was living with his mother back in Georgia, he ran to Lucie. Plus, Lucie was a nurse, so it worked out well. The sharp pain lingered, but he already felt better.
Lucie. She really was an angel.
He had some vague recollections of calling her beautiful and asking her to climb on top of his dick and have sex with him. He wasn’t certain whether they actually happened or whether he was just dreaming saying them. He had numerous dreams where he did both those things. He generally preferred to be on top, be he wasn’t averse to the idea of Lucie riding him.
Fucking A. Now he was turned on and too tired and in too much pain to do anything about.
He looked around the room for a distraction. His fingers curled into the bed sheets. He wondered how she got them so soft. It was like sleeping on a marshmallow. His wolf rumbled peaceably. The beast was just happy to have finally made it into Lucie’s bedroom.
Lucie’s bedroom…
Cutter groaned and scrubbed a hand down his face. He was such an ass. He’d broken into her house, bled all over her furniture, forced her to perform impromptu surgery on him, and now he was hogging her bed while she was banished to a cold, cramped chair.
Yes, why didn’t she just sleep with him? There was certainly room enough for two.
Cutter felt an irrational wave of jealousy. Yes, there was room for two. The bed was huge. Who had she been entertaining in that big bed?
He inhaled deeply and was more than a little relieved that all he could scent was fabric softener, lavender and the heavenly, blissful and sublime aroma of blueberries – Lucie’s scent. Good, no male scents were present.
At least he hadn’t actually broken into her house. Lucie had a spare key to her back door in a hidden rock that wasn’t fooling even the dumbest of burglars. It had been disturbingly easy for him to get into her house. He needed to have a word with her about security. The next person who broke in might not have as good intentions as he did. While his intentions veered on the impure side, they weren’t bad – per se. She needed bars on her windows, six locks on each door, an alarm system and possibly even a guard dog. His wolf wagged his tail approvingly. He made a mental note to speak to her about it in the morning. As for the rest… he’d buy her a new couch, and he’d worship
at her feet for saving his life. Hell, it was true – she really had saved his life.
He sighed as watched her sleep; her pink lips were slightly parted as her chest rose and fell rhythmically. Cutter switched on her bedside lamp, and soft light illuminated the room. Lucie moaned, stretched and snuggled back down.
Carefully, he swung his legs out of bed, grimacing at the pain. Whoever the fuck shot him was going to pay. Judging by what he heard, he was going to guess that it was Harvey. However, it was just something he overheard as he was jumping out the window, and he had been shot twice. It was possible he had been mistaken. Whoever it was, they were using silver bullets, and that was strictly against SEA policy.
He tested his weight on his injured leg and deciding that it wasn’t completely unmanageable, he shuffled out the room in search of a drink of water.
Lucie was still sleeping and snoring sweetly when he returned. He marveled at the many shades of pink adorning her bedroom. He had no idea so much pink existed in the world. A long line of stuffed toys, porcelain and wooden figurines all in the shape of hedgehogs of varying sizes were arranged on shelves that wrapped around the room. She also appeared to have a large toy house standing on a dresser. He peered at it and recognized it as something a female cousin also had when she was a kid. It was like a plastic dollhouse, only the dolls in it were actually animals. His cousin had a huge collection of them. She had families of cats, bunnies, squirrels, dogs – you name it she had it. He and his brothers destroyed several of them when they younger while pretending to be Godzilla. That earned him a thorough smack from his stepdad and a lost summer working for his uncle at his garage. Lucie’s house, naturally, contained a family of hedgehogs.
Lucie was too cute for words.
She caught his attention as she shivered slightly. No, he couldn’t have that. It wasn’t fair for her to be sleeping in a recliner; she should sleep in her bed.
He leaned over and pulled her into his arms, easily lifting her. Her curvy little body felt phenomenal curled against him. She fit there so perfectly like she was made for him. His wolf almost purred in agreement. He arranged her on the bed and slid in behind her, pulling the covers over them both.
He traced his fingers over her face, brushing away stray strands of hair. He hadn’t forgotten the events that had led them to spend the night together, but at that moment he was choosing to ignore them. Lying in bed with Lucie by his side might be the last peaceful, happy moment he had for a while, and he wasn’t about to squander it. No, he was going to grab onto the little bits of joy he had in his life – like he should have been doing over the past year – and he was going to enjoy them while he could.
Because if that day had taught him anything, in the blink of an eye you could be seriously screwed.
Chapter Twelve
Friday
“No, Delmonte, don’t sleep on my chest… you know I can’t breathe,” murmured Lucie, sleepily.
She used her free hand to slap listlessly in that general area but frowned when she didn’t come into contact with an overly hairy, lazy cat. She was currently cat sitting for her ex-husband, and Delmonte had a habit of curling up right on her chest during the night. The fact that he was an extremely large cat – who managed to terrify foxes – made breathing very difficult. Lucie was trying to teach Delmonte to sleep at the end of the bed, but it was hard to do, especially given that he was, in spite of his size, absolutely adorable, and Lucie constantly caved and let him do whatever he wanted.
The pressure on her body actually felt different to Delmonte’s presence. The whole left-hand side of her body felt like it was being crushed. It wasn’t exactly a bad feeling; it was surprisingly comforting – like being trapped in a big jelly. She assumed, anyway; obviously, that had never actually happened to her. Sure looked like fun in Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs. Instead of being worried, her little beast was actually purring contentedly. In her half-asleep state none of this made sense.
And just what was that thing remorselessly digging into her thigh? She burrowed her free hand under the cover to feel it and… holy Zeus!
Her eyes snapped open. She was definitely awake now. She turned her head to find herself staring into the sleeping face of Cutter. The events of the previous night hit her like a tidal wave. Right – Cutter was shot. She took out the bullets. She put him in her bed. She just felt up his morning woody!
Dang rabbit! She literally just fondled a man in his sleep. She pulled her hand away ignoring the thrill she had felt at having his hard, silken length throbbing in her hand. Oh, she was a dirty girl!
Maybe if she could just slip out of the bed before he awakened. Hmmm, no dice. He was half laying on her, with one arm over her torso and a leg casually thrown over her. Given that he was about twice her size, she wasn’t going anywhere.
He must have felt her squirming because his arm tightened around her and pulled her even closer to his body. His face was now only a whisper away from hers. She could feel his breath against her cheek. It was surprisingly minty.
Lucie smiled at his sleeping countenance; his brow was slightly furrowed, and he even scowled in his sleep, but waking up to his face beside her, despite the confusing circumstances, was downright lovely. If they were together, they could wake up this way every day. Cue dramatic, over exaggerated, wistful sigh. Maybe she should just enjoy this morning. Who knew if it would ever happen again?
Frowning, she craned her neck to look at her recliner. She remembered reading a book while she watched him sleep and then nothing. She must have dozed off. Yet, how does that explain how she managed to get all the way over to the bed? Did she sleepwalk over in the middle of the night?
Double dang rabbit! Her subconscious must have made her do it. Well, he didn’t exactly seem to mind, not if the position of his body and the size of his, ahem, wood was anything to go by. She only worried about what else she had been doing to him in his sleep.
She really needed to get out of bed and get back to that recliner. Yep, pretending nothing had happened. That was the way to go. She began shuffling away with a more concentrated effort.
“Where are you going?” demanded the gruff, stern voice.
In surprise, Lucie squealed and whipped around to look at him, promptly head-butting him. Cutter grunted as she let out a wailing ouch. Did he have a metal plate in his head? It felt like he had a freaking metal plate in his head.
Cutter rubbed his fingers over her forehead. “You alright?” he asked in amusement.
“Yes, you just startled me,” she hissed. “Are you okay?” she grumbled, remembering that she had actually slammed her head into his.
He snickered. “Yeah, I’ve had worse.”
Lucie bit her lip as her hedgehog whined for him. She should be more sympathetic. He was virtually knocking on death’s door the day before. “I’m sorry.”
Cutter rubbed a thumb over her cheek as his lips curled upwards. “You saved my life; you have nothing to be sorry for.”
Lucie twisted onto her side, propping her head up on her hand. A flash of, what she suspected was, disappointment passed over his face as his arm and leg slipped away.
“How are your shoulder and leg?” she asked trying to be clinical over the matter, and trying not to stare at the hard lines of his gorgeous chest.
He shifted slightly and winced. “They ache, but I’m fine.”
Lucie glanced at the clock on the wall. She had a million questions she wanted to ask Cutter, but if she wanted to get to work she doubted she had time to ask them all. More than that, she actually wanted just to stay in bed all day ogling his fabulous form. But, no, she did need to go to work.
“I need to look at your wounds again before I go to work.”
Cutter’s face tightened. “You’re planning on going to work,” he said slowly.
“Of course.”
“Can’t wait to see your boyfriend?” he spat as amber rolled through his fiery eyes.
Lucie rolled her eyes – not this again. Even her
sweet, patient hedgehog – who could forgive Cutter anything – was bored by this subject.
“Ugh! Give it a rest,” she exclaimed angrily before flopping onto her back and throwing an arm over her face.
She tried - she tried really, really hard - not to giggle, as she felt soft, questing fingers tickling their way over her stomach.
“Stop,” she whined without much conviction. “Don’t, I’m really ticklish.”
Telling him that was a big mistake. He was relentless as she writhed, wriggled, jiggled, squealed and snorted beneath. Her hedgehog was virtually rolling around in an excited ball.
“Stop, stop!” she begged. “I give in; I give in!”
Her wayward hand slapped at his shoulder, and he groaned.
“Peanut butter and jelly! I’m sorry!”
Lucie spun back over and started pulling off the dressing she had applied to his wound. She let out a breath of release as she saw that his skin had already knitted back together. He was an exceptionally fast healer. Still, it was best that she didn’t hit him in any of his afflicted areas again. She pulled off the dressing completely and dropped it in the wastebasket before pulling down the covers and doing the same for his leg wound. She made sure the cover remained artfully draped over his boy parts. Yes, she’d seen them before, but if faced with them again she might not be able to restrain herself. With an apology to her battery operated boyfriend, he was nothing compared to the real thing.
“The good news is you don’t need more bandages on your wounds. Just be careful when you shower – they’re going to be tender for a while.”
“Peanut butter and jelly?” he repeated before roaring with laughter.
Lucie blushed as she pulled the covers back over him. “It’s how I swear.”
“That would explain the times I’ve heard you shouting kitty whiskers and noodles.” He rested an arm underneath his head, stretching out his body before her devouring gaze. “You’re an adult, you can say fuck, you know?”