Storm gave Kris a puppy-eye look, and Kris had a hard time not giggling at the exaggerated expression.
“The doctor here had his minions shove giant needles into me and take pictures while putting me in torturous positions. And when I objected, they brought in Rugar. No one takes on Rugar.” Storm rubbed the side of his face against Kris’s hair. “Except meeting you, sugar. That is a good thing. So, when I get to the point of deciding to take off anyway, they shoot me full of happy-time drugs. Now I’m waiting for them to wear off while MD went to check on Ralph. They told me it shouldn’t take too long.”
Kris had kept up with most of the conversation. He didn’t know who MD, Rugar, or Ralph was, but he did recognize Synn’s name. He and Bishop had helped Kris on that horrible day at the flower shop after the incident.
“I don’t know a lot about shoulders, but I remember a television show I once watched saying the more muscle a person has, the harder it is to put a dislocation back in,” Kris said.
“Yeah, that’s me. I’ve got guns,” Storm boasted.
Storm made a fist with his good hand and bent his arm, making the muscles in his arm bulge. Some of the tape holding a couple of bandages popped free. Kris automatically pressed it back into place.
Kris couldn’t stop staring at the flexing flesh next to him. For the first time since the incident, his dick hardened. Before Kris could wrap his mind around that phenomenon, Storm pulled him close again.
“What’s your name, sugar?” he asked, sounding tired.
“Kris Winters,” he answered.
The arm around his waist became heavier. Kris looked up into Storm’s face and saw that he was asleep. He took a moment and admired the fan of dark lashes against Storm’s high cheekbones. The day old scruff of whiskers enhanced his already bad boy image. In his mind, Kris visualized those full lips dark pink and wet from kisses.
Kris jerked. He shouldn’t be admiring another man. He had Corey. He was here because Corey asked him to be. Deciding now would be a good time to sneak out, Kris tried to get off the bed. The arm around him tightened, and Kris knew he wasn’t going anywhere.
With a sigh, he relaxed back into the warm body surrounding him. If someone came in and asked him what he was doing there, he would tell them the truth. It was obvious. A drugged-up Hercules had kidnaped him.
The day’s stresses and Kris’s weakened condition caught up to him. He let his eyes close, thinking he would rest for a moment.
Chapter Five
Storm opened his eyes to the white hell of a hospital room and the heaven of a warm man in his arms. Or, in this case, one arm, as the other was still bound in the hated sling.
He carefully moved his shoulder back and forth. It was sore, but not too bad. Glancing down, Storm encountered the lightest blue eyes he had ever seen. Thick black lashes outlined them and were a stark contrast to the pale skin as smooth as cream that covered Kris’s handsome face.
“Hi,” Storm whispered.
“Hi. Are you feeling better?”
“Yeah. I’m back to the land of the living.” Storm wanted to taste those plump pink lips just inches away.
Kris must have seen the want on his face and backed away. Nervous fingers picked at the bed sheet. “Corey asked me to come here to see how you were doing.”
“Who is Corey?” Storm couldn’t recall knowing anyone named Corey.
“You rescued Corey from the burning house today,” Kris said.
“Oh, his name was Corey? Is he okay?” Storm asked.
Kris nodded. “They want to keep him overnight for observation.”
Storm loosened his hold on Kris. A golden opportunity for escape had presented itself. “Let’s go see him.”
Kris’s pretty eyes widened. “You want to go see Corey?”
Storm frowned. He didn’t understand why Kris wouldn’t want him to make sure that Corey was okay? Storm had risked his life to get the man out of that burning building.
“Is there a reason why I shouldn’t check on him?” he asked.
Kris shook his head so hard that Storm thought he heard his teeth rattle together.
Storm smiled and sat up. “Let’s go visit Corey. He might hate being here as much as I do.”
“He never seemed to have a problem with hospitals before,” Kris commented.
Storm had just taken Kris’s hand to help him off the bed. Now he paused and asked, “Do you know Corey well?”
“Yeah, for about a year.” Kris’s head was bent, and he rubbed his finger on a spot on his lightweight pants.
Storm could see there was more going on than Kris was saying. But it didn’t matter. Tugging on the smaller man’s hand, he said, “I want to go and meet Corey under better circumstances than I did earlier today.”
Kris slid off the bed, and Storm estimated Kris’s slight frame was at least six inches shorter than his. Storm kept a hold of Kris’s hand and ignored the slight tug to be free.
“Do you have to tell someone you’re leaving?” Kris asked.
“They’re lucky I stayed this long. Come on. I’m out of here.”
Storm walked through the curtain and headed out of the emergency examining room. He didn’t look or speak to anyone. In the past, if he acted like he owned the place, everyone thought he did.
“Where are we going?” he asked, pausing in the hall outside the door.
Kris pointed to the right. “Corey’s room is at the end of the hall.”
Storm turned to the right and started in the direction Kris had indicated. The farther Storm managed to get from the doctors and nurses behind him, the more his gut eased.
Looking down, he squeezed Kris’s hand and smiled. Kris didn’t smile back. Instead, the smaller man seemed to withdraw.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
“Where did your accent go?” Kris asked quietly.
“My accent?”
“Before when you were talking to me you called me sugar and sounded like you came from Ireland,” Kris said.
Storm bent his elbow, bringing Kris closer as they continued down the hall. “I’m told when I’ve had a few too many beers my grandfather’s accent comes out. As a kid, I spent a lot of time with my grandfather, who is from Ireland. I’m thinking the drugs they gave me brought it out.” In one motion, Storm had Kris pressed up against the wall. “Now do you want to tell me why you look like we’re going before a firing squad?”
“No,” Kris answered, staring at the middle of Storm’s chest.
“Look at me,” Storm ordered.
Unhappy light blue eyes met Storm’s gaze.
“Does this have something to do with Corey? Are you afraid of him?” Storm would have no problem taking care of this Corey if he was hurting Kris.
“No, I’ve never been afraid of Corey. It’s complicated.” Sadness and frustration covered Kris’s face.
Storm knew what complicated meant. When someone stated those words regarding someone else it meant they were in some kind of relationship that, in the end, wasn’t really working.
He didn’t see Kris as being a cheater. Storm knew he pretty much had steamrolled over Kris since they met. Yes, the man could have told Storm he was in a relationship, but because Kris hadn’t, Storm could only deduct things weren’t right between him and Corey.
In the past, Storm had proved to be good at sorting out complicated. He believed all relationships took work to keep them healthy. But when one of the people in the relationship used the word complicated, he found the odds of the couple making it went way down.
Selfishly he wanted to keep Kris for himself. He’d liked waking up with the man in his arms. But he didn’t know what the circumstances between Kris and Corey were. And the only way to find out what was happening was to face it head-on.
Stepping away from Kris, he said, “Show me which room is Corey’s.”
With their fingers still laced together, Kris led Storm down the hall until they came to room #148. Storm watched Kris take a deep breath before smili
ng weakly at him and pulling open the door.
* * * *
The slide of the door against the tile floor woke Corey out of a light sleep. A nurse had come in a half-hour before and taken the oxygen mask away. They told him he was doing well and he should be able to go home first thing in the morning.
Relief eased the knot in Corey’s belly when Kris walked into the room. He had been gone over an hour, and a part of Corey feared he wouldn’t bother coming back. Why should he after the way Corey had treated him this last year? That relief was short-lived when a huge, half-naked man followed Kris, and the two were holding hands.
“Kris, what’s going on?” he asked before coughing to clear his scratchy throat.
“You asked me to check on Storm. He decided he wanted to check on you too,” Kris answered.
Corey heard Kris talking, but he didn’t understand a word he said. He was too busy taking in the incredible feast of the amazing man standing before him. The guy was gigantic. Corey estimated he was at least six feet five. And the muscles covered with tattoos had Corey drooling.
His gaze locked on the sling the man was wearing. It was a stark reminder that this man had risked his life saving him. Something inside Corey melted until he saw Kris and his hero were still holding hands.
Frowning, he demanded, “Kris, why are you holding this guy’s hand?”
“Actually he’s holding mine,” Kris answered.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I don’t know,” Kris responded. “Storm just does stuff. He doesn’t make me try and figure out what he wants.” By now, Kris’s tone had escalated until he was almost shouting.
Corey blinked. In all their time together, Kris had never yelled at him. Corey’s heart cracked a little.
“You were only gone an hour. I know you’d never met this guy before. This is crazy.” Corey tried to reason with Kris. Was he still asleep and having some kind of weird dream?
“Look,” Storm said, breaking into the conversation, “when Kris found me, I was high on the drugs the doctors gave me. As soon as they wore off, Kris told me that you had sent him to check on me. That was nice of you.”
Storm let go of Kris’s hand. Corey gritted his teeth together when Storm put his arm around Kris’s shoulders, getting his boyfriend’s attention.
“I see the nurses haven’t bothered to clean Corey up. They usually have a small plastic container in the bathroom that they use to give patients sponge baths. Why don’t you go and see if you can find one? There should be some soap lying around in there too. Then you can bring it out here, and we can take care of Corey.”
“He can’t,” Corey blurted out.
Kris gave him the stink eye. “I’m getting stronger all the time. I can do it.”
Corey saw Storm look Kris over and pull him closer to his body.
“What’s going on? Are you injured?”
Storm’s blue eyes were hard as stone when he looked over at Corey. “Maybe you should tell me if Kris is injured.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Corey objected. “He was attacked last month by a boyfriend. He’s still recovering.”
“Did you have to throw that in my face, Corey? You were the one who’d left again. Every time you leave I know you find someone else. I never did, never. Except, for once, someone actually thought I was enough for them. Me, a lowly flower shop owner, was actually enough.” Kris sniffed and rubbed his nose. “Of course he turned out to be a madman obsessed with someone else and was only using me. So I guess you were right all along. I’m not exciting enough for someone to stay with long term.”
“Holy fuck, you’re the one Snake attacked,” Storm exclaimed.
Corey ignored the big man. “Kris, please stop it. How many times do I have to tell you that I love you before you will believe me?” he asked. “I won’t leave again. We’ll make it work this time.”
“Why bother?” Kris snapped.
“Enough you two,” Storm broke in. “Kris, do you need to sit down?”
“No, I’m going to go and find that soap and water and wash Corey’s face like you said.”
Corey was entranced. He had never seen Kris stick his bottom lip out in a huge pout before. Combine that with the determined look on his face and Corey fell even more in love with the man.
“All right, you see if you can find the stuff, and I’ll help you carry it in here,” Storm said.
“Okay,” Kris agreed.
Kris’s gaze almost sliced Corey in half with its sharpness before he headed to the bathroom. Corey noted that Kris’s posture was straight and his steps were crisp. That was good. It meant he wasn’t hurting or tired, at least physically.
“We haven’t formally met yet. So, hi, I’m Storm Donahue.” Storm held out his hand.
Corey looked at the hand in front of him before lifting his gaze and laughing. “I’m Corey Casey. Maybe shaking hands isn’t a good idea.” Corey lifted his bandaged hand up.
Stormed laughed, and Corey’s heart stuttered. The man was gorgeous.
“You’re right. We’ll have to postpone hand shaking until yours are healed,” Storm said. “So how bad are your injuries?”
“My hands are ripped up, and I have a couple of staples in my head. That’s about it except for smoke inhalation and a few bruises,” Corey said. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Are you after my boyfriend?”
Chapter Six
“Storm, can you come in here?” Kris called from the bathroom.
“Excuse me,” Storm said. Relief flooded him as he made his escape into the bathroom. He wasn’t prepared to answer Corey’s question.
Handsome, hazel-eyed Corey Casey intrigued Storm. At times, turbulence as choppy as Storm’s name swirled through them. Black soot covered Corey’s face and hair, but it couldn’t hide the man’s striking good looks. Meeting these two men was turning out to be quite an adventure for Storm. And he did love an adventure.
“I have the basin filled, but I’m not sure if it weighs over eight pounds. The doctor upped my weight limit this week. But it’s still not very much,” Kris said.
Kris balanced a small pink basin on the edge of the sink. Soapsuds coated the water’s surface, and a white washcloth floated amid the bubbles.
“Why do you have a weight limit?” Storm asked.
He studied the lean man, letting his gaze sweep over the long-sleeved black athletic shirt and pants with lime green stripes down the sides. Storm couldn’t see any outward signs of injury until he looked closer. There were visible pink lines on the inside of Kris’s hands between his thumb and finger. He assumed they ran across his palms in classic defensive wound injuries. The tip of a thick, ropey scar peeked out by the collar of his shirt.
“Oliver cut through my abdominal wall.” The flat tone of Kris’s voice didn’t match his red face and trembling lips.
“Well, let’s see how we can do this,” he said, trying to keep things light and easy. If Storm took Kris into his arms now, he wouldn’t be able to stop the kiss he had wanted since meeting the man. The other man on the bed just a few feet away prevented that kiss. “If I put my hand flat with my palm up, can you slide the basin onto it?” he asked and received a weak smile in return.
Storm vowed if he ever got the opportunity he would explore every inch of Kris’s body to see the damage Snake’s ever-present knives had created. His cock jerked, liking the idea of a naked Kris. Again he reminded himself that Corey was in the other room.
Once the basin was balanced on Storm’s hand, he straightened. “Let’s go make Corey feel a little better.”
“Storm.”
“Yes?” Storm stopped and looked down at Kris.
“Why don’t you call me sugar anymore?” Kris asked.
Storm knew his smile was a little sad. “The ties that bind you to Corey may be frayed and about to snap apart, but they are still holding you together. Until we can work things out, I don’t have the right to call you my s
ugar.”
“What am I going to do?” Kris whispered. “I love Corey, but I know I’m not enough. I know we aren’t enough for each other. I can’t handle the constant dread of waking up again one day to find he’s gone.” Kris gently touched Storm’s arm. “I know it makes me a horrible person since we’ve just met. But I want to be your sugar.”
“It’s been a long day for all of us. Let’s go clean Corey up and then go on from there. It’ll all work out. I promise,” Storm said.
* * * *
Kris wiped the last of the soot off Corey’s neck before rinsing the cloth in the gray, dingy water. Corey’s eyelashes fanned out against his cheeks, and his breathing was even. Satisfaction warmed Kris’s heart. His actions had relaxed Corey. That was a change from the usual nagging he received.
“That looks good. I’ll take the basin back into the bathroom for you. It shouldn’t take you very long to empty it out and put everything away,” Storm instructed.
Kris nodded before sneaking a glance at Storm. He wasn’t used to the attention the big, handsome man was giving him. He pushed away the guilt that was trying to edge its way into his conscious. He decided it was only human for him to want to be around someone who acted as if they actually liked him.
Minutes later found Kris in the bathroom wiping the basin dry and putting it where he’d originally found it. Out in Corey’s room, he heard the door open. Kris moved to the side of the bathroom doorway at an angle so he could see who it was.
Kris watched a tall, thin man in his late twenties or early thirties enter the room and walk over to Storm. “I brought you a shirt and jeans.”
“You’re good,” Storm responded.
“It wasn’t that hard. I knew the odds of finding you still in Emergency were pretty much zero. That left jail for assaulting a doctor who was stupid enough to try to stop you from leaving or checking on the guy you pulled out of the burning building.”
Progressing with Storm [Granite County 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting ManLove) Page 4