“Wasn't a dream. Of course I came to save you. There was never any question about that, Lo.”
“Stupid fucking carpet store,” she said, getting her spirit back. “How did I miss that?”
“Who would think he would buy a place and sit on it for years, never once contacting you? Shit don't make any sense.”
“He wasn't sitting on it. He was making a replica of our old apartment, down to every last kitchen towel and the position of my perfume bottles. He's out of his mind.”
“He raised his hands to this perfect fucking face,” I said, running my pointer finger down her cheek. “I think that proved how fucked in the head he was.”
Lo offered me a small smile. “How bad is it?” she asked, waving a hand lazily around. “I can't feel anything still, but I know it can't be good.”
“It's nothing. Mike got you all taken care of.”
Lo's brow arched up and her eyes got small. “Don't talk to me like I'm a fucking child, Cash. I can handle it.”
There was my girl. I felt my lips curving up. “Fine. It's jacked. You're held together with stitches at this point. That what you want to hear?”
“Yes, actually, if that's the truth.”
“It's the truth.”
“Okay,” she nodded, taking a deep breath. “It's gonna hurt like a bitch when I wake up again, isn't it?”
“Yeah,” I nodded. “But they'll just come back in here and shove a needle in your ass and it will all be better.”
She snorted, wincing a bit as her smile spread. “They'll give me pills, you idiot.”
“I like it my way better,” I laughed.
“You just want to see my ass,” she smiled.
“Hell fuckin' yeah. Nice and plump and...”
“Bite-able,” she supplied, letting out a quiet version of her tinkling laugh.
“I still haven't gotten the chance to bite it yet. You know... we're alone in here...”
“Go to sleep, Cash,” she said, shaking her head.
“Really, I could just pull your pants down real quick and...” I paused, seeing tears rise up in her eyes unexpectedly. “What?” I asked, my thumb brushing one away as it broke free of her lashes.
She shook her head a little. “You'd make a pretty good leading man, Cash,” she said oddly, closing her eyes without further explanation.
With nothing left to do, I did what I was told, I went to sleep.
Twenty-three
Lo
I came awake suddenly in the early light of the morning, the pain a searing, awful thing that felt like it spread from my back and took over my entire body. My breath hissed out loudly as I tried to shift slightly to ease the crick in my neck.
“Fuck,” I groaned, flopping back down.
“Babe,” Cash's voice reached me, sounding annoyingly awake. I tilted my head to see him walking toward me from the bathroom, his hair wet from the shower, dressed in clothes that didn't belong to him- charcoal gray work pants and a faded green Army shirt. There were fresh butterfly sutures down the side of his face where a bruise was visible under the cuts. He was the most beautiful sight I'd ever seen. “Don't,” he said when I went to push up and fell again on a cry. “Fucking Christ, woman,” he said, attempting annoyed but it came off as concerned nonetheless, “I get it, we all get it- you're a badass and don't need nothing from no one, but you gotta let people help you out sometimes.”
“Where's Mike and Malcolm?”
“They're not helping you with this,” he said, shaking his head, a small smirk playing at his lips.
“Why not? They're both trained. Malcolm had training in the military and Mike was...”
“An EMT.”
“Exactly. So they would be more qualified to...”
“They ain't seeing your tits, babe. Sorry.”
“What?” I half-accused, half-laughed.
“Those might be on your body and all... but they're mine now. And neither Mike or Malcolm are getting to see them.”
“They probably already did. You noticed I'm shirtless, right?” I asked, fighting the smile because I didn't want him to know that his possessiveness was giving me the warm and tinglies.
“Sure. But that was then. This is now and I'm gonna be the one to help you stand and wrap those bad boys up.”
“You're ridiculous,” I said, but I was smiling.
“You love it,” he countered with a wink.
I had a sneaking suspicion that might be a little too true.
“Right so now... we're gonna get you up on an arm and then swing your legs off the bed. Then you can just sit there while I wrap you up.” His hand went under one of my arms and pulled as I pushed, biting hard into my busted lip to keep from crying out. “Seriously? With the stoic shit?” he asked, watching my face. “Not gonna think less of you if you curse and spit about it, babe.”
So then, I did. And I earned a smile for it to boot.
Fifteen minutes later, Cash took a few steps back, watching me while he held his chin in his fingers.
“Was it completely necessary to make a fucking tunic out of the gauze?” I laughed, looking down to where I was wrapped from pelvis to five inches over my breasts. Hell, there were even straps.
“Yep,” he said easily, moving back toward me and extending his hand. “Bathroom?” he asked with a shrug when I furrowed my brow at his hand.
“Right.” There were things you didn't want to admit to a man you were sleeping with, especially only a few days into said naughty-bits-rubbing, and one of those things... was telling them you had to pee. But, given the fact that I was pretty sure I'd double over in pain if I tried to make the journey myself and the fact that I really did have to go, well, I took his hand.
The move across the floor was excruciating in both actual pain and slowness. I felt like every time my foot landed that the sensation shot up my back. By the time we reached the bathroom, still steamy from Cash's shower, I was sweaty and clutching painfully into Cash's arm for stability.
He walked me over toward the toilet and didn't let go.
Okay. I was willing to admit to him that I needed to go, but there was no way in hell he would get firsthand knowledge of that experience.
“I got it from here,” I said, letting go of his arm, which made me need to slam my hand down on the cool surface of the sink counter.
“Babe... seriously...” he tried, looking uncharacteristically serious.
“No. We are so not at the point where I am going to let you watch me pee. In fact,” I went on as he started grinning, “I don't think we will ever be at that point.”
“Honey, I don't see how you'll be able to lower yourself down, let alone get back up if I'm not...”
“Then I will just... live here,” I said, shaking my head.
“Lo...”
“Cash... out!” I said, my tone a little too sharp, but well, just standing there was painful enough for me to want to pass out and he was just dragging the whole process out.
Cash sighed, shaking his head at me like I was being stupid, then slowly moved out of the room and closed the door.
I knew his ass was waiting right outside the door and that was sweet and all... but he could hear. So I turned on the tap high as I moved to try to get myself to the toilet. I was pretty sure I heard his chuckle from outside the door, but frankly, I was hurting too much to care if he thought I was being ridiculous.
Ten absolutely horrifyingly painful minutes later, I had handled my business, gotten up, and was washing my hands and ignoring the tears streaming down my face when the door opened and there Cash was.
“Baby,” he said, coming up beside me and watching my reflection. “Was your modesty really worth it?” he asked, reaching up and wiping my cheeks before handing me a towel to dry my hands.
“Yes.”
“Women...” he said, shaking his head, but he was giving me a soft smile. “Know this is probably fucking salt in the wounds,” he said, tu
rning me slightly, “but I have to do it...”
“Do wha...”
The last of my word was hushed by his lips landing on mine, soft, so gentle it was barely a touch at all, but damn if I didn't feel it down to my toes. My hands moved up, grabbing his cocked arms as his hands held the sides of my head and his tongue moved between my lips to stroke mine, sending a jolt of desire so strong through my body that my legs felt wobbly. I moaned softly into his mouth and he pulled away.
My eyes opened slowly to see him smirking. “What?” I asked, close to being offended and he hadn't even said anything.
“You moaned...”
Oh, god.
“Yeah, so?” I said, attempting indifference though a part of me was dying a little inside.
“So...” he said, his smile spreading wider, “for a minute there... you weren't hurting.”
The swirling, uncomfortable feeling subsided, replaced with a rush of warmth. God, he really was just too... good at times.
“I guess.”
“Know what?” he asked, his smile taking a turn toward the scandalous.
“What?” I asked, smiling back.
“I can think of a lot of ways to naturally kill the pain...”
My sex clenched hard and I felt a rush of wetness between my thighs. It was so easy with him. All he had to do was talk to me. Hell, even just look at me.
“Oh yeah?” I asked, my hand sliding up his bicep to toy with the long strands of hair falling toward his neck.
“Oh... yeah,” he said confidently as his hand moved down over my chest. Even under endless layers of gauze (seriously, he never wanted anyone to even see a hint of tit), my nipples hardened as his hand kept moving downward. He paused for the barest of seconds, watching my face, enjoying my reaction, before his hand moved between my thighs and cupped my sex. “Bet every gun at the compound that your pussy is already drenched.”
“You'd win that bet,” I said with a smile, moving my hips slightly against his palm, ignoring the stab of pain up my back.
His fingers crooked inward and pressed against my clit, making a surprised moan escape my lips. “Best fucking pussy I've ever...”
“Seriously?” Mike's voice called from the other room, making me straighten. Cash just smiled, pressing into my clit again, taking a sick kind of pleasure at the half-shocked, half-aroused look on my face. “She shouldn't be up walking without pain meds,” Mike scolded, his voice getting closer.
“Should I tell him about our new little version of pain management?” Cash asked with a devilish smile as he stroked over my clit again, making a soft whimper escape my lips. “Nah,” he said as Mike's feet stopped just outside the door, “let's keep this between the two of us, yeah?” he asked, moving his hand from between my thighs to under my arm. “Keep your panties on. She had to pee for chrissakes.”
Oh my god.
If I was capable of blushing, I'd have been beet red right that minute. Cash swung the door open and Mike went from annoyed to concerned in a blink, offering me his other arm which made the process, admittedly, less painful on the way back to the bed where I was planted, handed two pain pills, then pushed back onto my belly which got a loud grumble from me.
“What?” Cash asked as Mike walked out.
“So you know my tits?” I asked, looking at him. It was literally all I could do in that position.
“You mean my top two favorite parts of your body?” he asked, biting slightly into his lower lip, making me wonder if it was on purpose or subconscious. Either way, it sent another rush of desire through my system, making me all the more grumpy because there was nothing that could be done about that in this position either.
“Top two?” I asked, unable to help myself.
“Tits, smile, cunt, eyes, ass,” he answered on a shrug.
Well, then.
“So, being your top two favorite parts of my body,” I repeated with a smile, “I'm sure it hasn't exactly escaped your notice that they are on the...”
“That they're way more than a fucking handful?” he asked, with a full smile.
“I was going to say on the large side, but yeah, essentially. So... lying on them like this... not fucking comfortable in the least.”
“No?” he asked, standing suddenly and reaching for me. Too surprised (and drugged) to react, I simply sat back on my ankles like he was pushing me to do and watched as he slipped into the hospital bed where my head had been lying a moment before. He reached for the remote to the bed and messed with it until it curved upward, putting him in an almost upright position, before he reached out for me and pulled me against his chest, his hands wrapping around my ass and holding me to him. “How's this then?” he asked and his voice sounded husky. It also didn't escape my notice that he was hard beneath me.
“Mmmhmm,” I murmured, too satisfied to manage anything else.
“Know what else is good about this position?” he asked.
“What?” I asked, burying my face in his neck and breathing him in- the slightest hint of the soap we stocked at Hailstorm, but mostly, just him.
“This,” he said, rocking his hips beneath me, letting his cock stroke up my cleft. Maybe I should have objected, should have told him to save it for a time when I could ensure a satisfying end for him as well, but, well... I was the one with her back torn open and he had unfairly gotten my engine running in the bathroom so... he owed me.
It didn't take long. I was feeling good from the meds and I was soaked from his hand playing with my clit. His cock maybe hit my clit five or six times before the orgasm ripped its way through my body, making me cry out against his neck as one of his hands moved to the back of my neck and pushed me closer to him.
“Never get fuckin' tired of hearing you come,” he said quietly, his fingers stroking my hair and I should have pushed him away because it was dirty and greasy from not being washed, but it felt too good and before too long, I was fast asleep and couldn't care less about things like greasy hair.
Aside from short breaks for me or him to hit the bathroom, that was the position we stayed in for three days. Some of the time, I slept. Some of the time, we both slept. A lot of the time, we talked- about my past with Damian, about how I decided to build Hailstorm, about his past in the MC, funny stories about stupid shit he had pulled when he was younger.
He held my arms reassuringly when Mike came in and unwrapped me and tended to my wounds, then helped balance my weight off the side of the bed when I finally insisted it was time to wash my hair and Aggie, one of the girls who worked in skips, came in to do it with a bucket over the side of the bed. I took whore's baths when Cash left me alone in the bathroom and had started to feel reasonably more human by the third morning.
I was also absolutely, one-hundred percent certain on that third morning that I was completely, overwhelmingly, irrationally... in love with him.
“Hey, ah, Cash,” Mike came in, looking almost sheepish, with an odd smile.
“What?” he asked, sitting up a little straighter.
“Someone is at the gate for you.”
“Someone?” he repeated, brow lifted.
“Your brother,” he specified. “And, ah, man... he's kinda pissed.”
At that, Cash let out a strange laugh-groan hybrid. “He would be. I haven't checked in in almost five days and the last anyone saw of me, I was charging in all badass to save the day,” he said with a grin. “Let me up, babe,” he said, patting my ass, and I moved a leg from over him and moved to sit off the edge of the bed. “Well, this is gonna be fun,” he said, stretching and leaning in to plant a quick kiss on my forehead before following Mike out.
And I was left there thinking the most insane two thoughts I had probably ever had cross my mind before: What would Reign, badass biker MC president, think of his kid brother dating the leader of Hailstorm? And also- would he be able to accept me into his weird little miss-matched family?
See? Insane.
Because no matt
er how sweet Cash had been to me, how caring, how silly when I needed it, how stalwart when I bitched at him, how strong to withstand all of my crazy moods... he wasn't that kind of guy.
I went and fell for the carefree manwhore that, in fiction, met and fell in love and came out the other side completely reformed.
But this wasn't a romance novel, this was real life.
And in real life, well, he wasn't leading man material.
And that was the saddest realization I had ever come to terms with.
Twenty-four
Cash
I was fucked and I knew it. Fucked in a multitude of different ways. First, I was fucked because something was happening with Lo, something I wasn't stupid enough to not recognize, but something I was stupid enough to think I would never let happen.
Second, I was fucked because what I just pulled with Lo, Damian, and Hailstorm at large, well, it put me in hot fucking water with The Henchmen. You never, as in ever, pulled dangerous shit behind their backs. Mostly because they wanted to be in on it. But also because it was disloyal to keep that kinda stuff from them.
So I didn't even need to see Reign's face to know he was pissed.
But when I walked up the front path to see him standing outside the gates, arms crossed over his chest, his light green eyes piercing into me, one of his dark brows raised like he couldn't believe what he was seeing, yeah, I knew I was fucked.
“You fucking serious?” he asked when I got to the gate.
“Shit move, not to call,” I admitted on a shrug. There was nothing I could do about that. It was after the fact. But it was wrong.
“You didn't answer your cell so I went to your place.”
“Fuck,” I groaned, running a hand up the shaved side of my head.
“Yeah... fuck. I get there and it's torn the fuck up and there's blood on the wall and a gun tucked under the fucking couch and you're MIA.”
“Wasn't my blood,” I clarified, though the cut on my face was a spot his eyes kept finding. “It was Lo's. She was staying with me.”
Cash (The Henchmen MC Book 2) Page 18