by Evie Monroe
Because his cock was so beautiful, my mouth salivating for him. I thought about taking it in my hands, touching it, tasting it . . . and my body shivered with desire.
He watched me, and I could swear he must’ve seen the tremor ripple through me. He pulled on his shirt and dragged it across his tight stomach. The tip of his cock brushed against the hem of the shirt, but by now, I couldn’t look away if an army forced me.
He held out his arms, giving me the perfect view. “Seen enough?” His voice was thick and sultry.
My stomach constricted in response to his tone. I swallowed the buckets of drool in my mouth and checked the door. “Hurry. The nurses will be in soon to check on you.”
He laughed a little and motioned to the pants. “Can you help me get these on?”
I didn’t want to. The urge to touch his cock was strong enough, from several steps away. Close to him, inches from him, I couldn’t trust myself not to take advantage. I sucked in a breath, grabbed the pants, and shook them out. Then I knelt in front of him and pushed each of his feet into the openings. As I started to pull the cotton pants up, I could feel the heat of his body as my knuckles brushed the hairs on his thick thighs.
He slowly lifted himself to his feet, moving closer to me. Trembling a bit, I tied the pants loosely at his waist, easing the cotton gently around his bandaged wound. Then I realized he was at his full height, towering over me, looking down at me. Those blue eyes made my head swim.
“Thanks,” he said. I was still holding his pants up. “I’ll take it from here.”
He took the ties from me and tightened them around his waist. “Um. Right. Not too tight, okay?” I ripped my eyes from his and took a step back, gnawing on my lip. He inched over to the wheelchair, gritting his teeth. His muscles tensed, and I sensed he was in pain, so I took his arm and eased him down into the chair.
“Are you okay?” I asked, my voice husky.
“Yeah. Lead the way.”
I maneuvered myself behind the wheelchair and quietly pushed him to the door, careful not to disturb the patient sleeping in the next bed. The hallway was still empty, so I turned right, heading to a bank of service elevators at the end of the hall away from the nurse’s station. When the elevator came, I wheeled him in and let out the breath I’d been holding as I slumped against the wall.
I was really doing this.
“Worried?” he asked, giving me a mischievous grin.
“A little. Since this can mean my job.” I thought for a second. “No. No can. It will mean my job. I’m getting myself fired from the job I’ve worked my whole life for.”
He gnawed on the inside of his cheek. “All right. So let me go. I can make it on my own.”
I shook my head. “I can’t do that. You need someone to look after you.”
The elevator dinged. I looked out onto the empty parking garage. As I started to wheel him out, he said, “Drive me to my brothers’. I’ll tell them I left on my own.”
I gave him a doubtful look. “There are security cameras all over the hospital. They’ll know that’s not true. And . . . I don’t have a car here. I walk to work.”
He chuckled. “Well doesn’t that throw a wrench into your escape plans, sweetheart? Can’t exactly head out onto the highway with these wheels.”
I pointed the wheelchair toward the service entrance and a few seconds later backed into the heavy door and pushed it open. “We aren’t going to the highway. My house is right down the street.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Your house? That’s where we’re going?”
I wheeled him out into the cold night air and cursed under my breath. This exit went to a small landing with a staircase of about ten steps to the ground. “Um . . . you have a better idea, considering our current situation?”
He pressed his lips together. “Nah. Just think your charming fiancé might have a little problem with it, seeing as how I don’t think he likes me very much.”
“He doesn’t live with me,” I mumbled.
He gave me a look. “He don’t? What are you, saving yourself for marriage?”
I ignored him, surveying the narrow staircase. I couldn’t very well ask him to get up and take the stairs in his condition, and I wasn’t even sure I could get the wheelchair down the steps, since it didn’t appear to be the kind that folded. I looked up and down the rear of the hospital and spotted a ramp for delivery trucks at the other end of the garage. That looked like a better option, but we had to go back into the garage to get to that exit. Holding open the door, I started to maneuver the wheelchair inside.
Just as I started to back us up, I heard the unmistakable sound of a gunshot. I knew that sound, would never forget it, after what had happened to my father. I also knew how a bullet sounded when it buried itself in wood close by. I inhaled a sharp breath as Jet shouted, “Get the fuck back!”
It didn’t compute. My head knew it. Shots! At us! My body froze, and I was back to that day, my father lying on the driveway, bleeding out in front of a helpless, thirteen-year-old me. Before I could galvanize myself, Jet jumped to his feet and shoved the wheelchair back toward me, and through the open door. I stumbled backward against the wall as the door slowly swung shut. As it did, three more gunshots went off.
Jet stood over me, breathing hard, gripping his side in agony as I lay crumpled against the wall. He looked down at me. “We gotta find another way out.”
I nodded mutely, pushed against the wall and slowly rose to my feet.
“Fuck the wheelchair, I’ll be fine,” he said, limping slowly toward the loading docks. When I didn’t follow, he turned back to me. “You okay?”
And I did what the Ice Girl had never done before, in her domain, the hospital where she ruled.
I started to cry.
Chapter Eight
Jetson
For all her smarts, my sexy surgeon hadn’t orchestrated the best escape plan ever.
Couldn’t fault her for that. From the way she was shaking, it was obviously her first time.
Poor little girl was losing it like a leaf in the wind. She probably hadn’t done anything bad or gone against any of the rules ever in her life.
And here she was, risking her job, getting her lily-white ass shot at, for me.
If I wasn’t in so much pain, I’d have been hellishly turned on. The nurses had given me painkillers, but they were wearing off. Also, I probably shouldn’t have been running – or even walking. Hell, I shouldn’t have been out of bed. But here I was, dodging around dark hallways, no fucking clue where I was, with my sexy surgeon on my heels.
I peered around a corner. Empty. I motioned her forward. “Come on.”
Behind me, she let out a sob.
I stopped. “Hey,” I said, propping myself up against a wall and taking a second to look at her face. I wiped a tear from under her eyes. “You’re good. Okay? This ain’t nothing.”
She gave me a doubtful look, her shoulders shaking. “How can you say that? They just shot at us!”
“Didn’t hit anything, did they? Furies are notoriously shitty shots,” I said with a grin . . . until pain ripped through my abdomen. It was like Slade was taunting me from the grave. I clenched my teeth until the pain died down. “Come on. We’re good.”
I pushed myself upright and headed down the hallway, one shoulder against the wall so I didn’t fall over. I pointed to the fire exit. “That’s our way out.”
She shook her head. “You go out there, you’ll set off the alarm.”
“Like those fucking gunshots didn’t? I don’t see a better way,” I said, my hand on the bar. I looked back to see her eyes wide with worry. “On the count of three, I’m gonna push it open and look out, make sure the coast is clear. When I give you the signal, we run. Okay?”
She hugged herself. “I don’t—”
Fuck. I didn’t need this shit.
“Three!” I barked out, sliding the door open an inch. The alarm started to clang overhead, so loud it drowned out every other sound. I manage
d a quick glance up and down the length of the building and, seeing no one, shoved the door open the rest of the way. I grabbed Nora’s hand. “Come on!”
The two of us ran into the parking lot. I set my sights on the cover we could take, a small, dark line of trees in the distance. Pulling Nora along, I shouted at her, “Run! Don’t stop.”
With my guts falling apart, I felt like I was wading through molasses. My surgeon girl was faster than me by a long shot. She pulled ahead, and I panted at her to head for the trees. As I did, I heard another gunshot.
Fuck.
When I got to the dark line, I dove for the trees, landing on my side. Pain tore up my torso, right to my chin. I let out a growl and pulled myself into a fetal position. “Fuck!”
“Are you okay?” Nora asked in the darkness.
It was pitch black here. I couldn’t see her, but her voice told me how scared she was. I rolled onto my side and pulled myself up, then looked out toward the hospital. In the distance, the alarm screeched on. I couldn’t see the Fury men who’d shot at us anywhere.
My palms were gritty with dirt. I wiped them on the front of my shirt and then felt my bandage. It was wet, warm. I was bleeding again. This wasn’t good.
“Yeah,” I told her, pulling myself to standing. “But we gotta get out of here. You said your place is around here?”
“Yes.”
It wasn’t too far, she said, maybe another few blocks, but it might as well have been a hundred fucking miles. I kept losing my breath. She was smart and kept us off the main street.
At last, she said, “Here it is,” and we climbed the stairs to this massive three-story mansion that looked like it belonged to a fucking king.
Well, she was a high-class surgeon.
I whistled when I got inside and closed the door. The place was huge, but she must have just moved in because it was full of boxes. She locked and double-locked the doors, then entered a code onto the alarm. She saw me staring at the boxes and looked around the place sheepishly.
I walked into the massive living room. “You live here all alone?”
She nodded and gnawed on her lip. “For now. Sorry it’s not unpacked yet. I just moved in.”
I turned to her. “I’m not used to such shitty living arrangements, but I’ll deal.”
She started to smile, but then her eyes drifted to my midsection, and she gasped. “Oh my God, Jet! You’re bleeding!”
I looked down. Bleeding was an understatement. I had blood on the front of my scrubs and dripping down my pant leg. “Shit.”
She pushed aside some boxes to reveal a ratty looking couch that didn’t belong in such nice digs. “Lie down here.”
I limped across the room. “You want me bleeding all over your furniture?”
“It’s fine,” she said, grabbing her gym bag. I collapsed onto the cushions, and she tugged the shirt up. The bandage had soaked through. She opened the drawstring on the pants, nudged them down low on my hips and pulled the bandage back gently. She frowned. “Dehiscence.”
“De—what?”
“All that movement opened some of the staples. No evisceration, so we’re good. Stay still.”
The shirt fell back as she reached into her bag and pulled out a container of some clear liquid. She nudged up my shirt again, but it was still in her way.
“Hold this up, please.”
I lifted the shirt and pulled it over my head, casting it aside. “What’s that?”
Her eyes trailed over my pectorals, and the blush appeared. She said, “Antiseptic. I need to sterilize the wound, then I’ll liquid suture it and bandage it up. It’ll be fine.”
She was right. I didn’t look at my wound once as she cleaned it. I watched her the whole time. Didn’t even hurt. The girl knew what she was doing. I could get used to having her take care of me.
Five minutes later, she ripped some tape off a roll and finished securing the new dressing to my abdomen. She pressed it into position and sat back on her butt. “Good as new,” she said with a shrug. “Just . . . don’t cough, or sneeze, or laugh.”
I smiled. “So sex ain’t out of the question?”
She stood up quickly and backed away. “With me it is.”
“Well, you’re the only one here. So I guess I’m SOL.”
“Just . . . be careful with it. I don’t have the equipment to deal with evisceration. Okay?”
“What’s that?”
“Literally. . . having your insides ripped out.”
I felt the bandage. “Yeah. That would fucking suck.”
“Would you like any medication for the pain?”
I shook my head. “It’s not so bad.”
She swallowed and walked to the window, started to peek between the blinds then thought better of it. “Do you think they’ll find us here?”
I nodded. “The hospital got your address?”
“Yes. Well. My old address. In L.A. I didn’t give them my new place yet.”
“Then we’re probably safe.”
She heaved a sigh of relief, then put the supplies back in her bag and set it on one of the boxes. “I’m sorry. I don’t have anything to eat because I got called to the hospital before I had a chance to fill my fridge. I can get you tea, though.”
I knew she told me it was forbidden, but I couldn’t help it. I started to laugh. And it fucking hurt. Did she really think I was a tea drinker? I shrugged. “Yeah. Fine. I’ll take tea.”
“Okay . . . um . . .” She walked through this big, arched doorway to the kitchen beyond. I couldn’t see her beyond the boxes, but I could hear her moving around in there. “I’ve got um, chamomile, English breakfast . . . Sleepy Time?”
It was all Greek to me. “Surprise me.”
A few minutes later, she returned with a teapot on a little tray with two dainty little cups and saucers and a bunch of little wafers. She set it on one of the boxes then poured two cups. “I don’t have milk, but . . . sugar?”
I shook my head.
She passed me the cup, pushed over another box and sat down across from me. “Cookie?” she asked, very formally.
So this was what a tea party was like. When I woke up this morning this was the last place I’d ever imagined myself ending up. Across from the hottest woman I’d ever seen, having tea.
“Why the hell not?” I said, and she handed me one. I was hungry as hell, but not for that shit. It tasted like cardboard. I swallowed as she nibbled on one herself. If she didn’t want me to laugh, she’d have to stop being so goddamn funny. “Jesus.”
She looked hurt. “What?”
I shook my head. “Just . . . nothing. You’re a fucking classy girl.”
She dipped her head, looking down at herself. “Not really. I just like tea.”
“And guys who wear suits and are old enough to be your father. You know how to have fun.”
“He is not!” she said, so passionately her tea sloshed over the cup’s rim and onto the saucer. “He’s only a few years older than me. And he’s a good man.”
I took a gulp of the tea. It didn’t taste much better than the cracker, and it burnt my mouth. “You can’t seriously tell me a guy like that can get you off.”
Her eyes widened. “I’m not talking about this with you.”
But she didn’t move. Her pretty ass seemed fastened to that little box. So I tried again. “What, your own daddy ignore you? Is that it?”
“No,” she said flatly.
I could tell that I’d hit a nerve. And whenever I got close to the core of things, I didn’t let up. I dug and pushed until I pinned my quarry. “You needed someone to fill the space in your heart when he walked out on you?”
Her blush dissolved into a frown. “If I wanted someone who reminded me of my father, I’d be with you.” She stood up so quickly that the tea did spill, all over the wood floor. She let out a curse and stomped off to the kitchen.
So her daddy was a biker? I didn’t believe it. Not her. But it made sense. How else would she have known that
those guys in the lobby were from a rival club? She walked the walk.
She came back a minute later. I smirked at her. “You mean your daddy was devilishly handsome?”
She ignored my joke and frowned at the mess. “Ugh. I don’t even have any paper towels!”
I reached for my bloody scrubs shirt and tossed it at her. She dropped it on the ground and started to swab up the mess. “Thanks,” she said, sinking to her knees. Then she added, more quietly, “My father was in the Devils’ Army. He died when I was thirteen, though.”
I could see the pain there. I would’ve pushed it with anyone else. But she looked so damn fragile. And she’d just gone through hell for me. So I didn’t. “Gotcha.”
She gave me a sad smile. “And yes, I’ve been on my own since then. Living with my cousin. But my cousin had her own family and life to worry about since she wasn’t much older than I was. To cope, I threw myself into my studies. Michael was the first man I ever . . .”
She trailed off, leaving me to think . . . Holy shit.
That old dude was the only guy she’d ever been with?
“So . . . what about you?” she said suddenly. “You live in Aveline Bay long?”
I nodded. “My brother and I came up from Southern California when I was a teen. After my mom died. My dad’s been out of the picture for a long time. Been here ever since.”
“Your brother?”
“Nix. Guy who visited me in the hospital.”
“Oh, yes,” she said. “I know him. He’s in the club with you. Said no way in hell would you be giving up just because of a little gunshot wound to the stomach.” She rolled her eyes.
I laughed at her. “Well . . . you gotta know, ‘cause of your daddy. You know it before you go in. When you sign up, it’s forever.”
She sucked in a breath and nodded. “Right. You leave this life before you leave the club.”
Damn. The girl was smarter than I thought.
Chapter Nine
Nora
“Why are these men after you, Jet?” I asked. “Why do they seem so keen on ending your life?”
He smirked. “Our war with the Hell’s Fury’s been brewing for a while. They threatened our girls. Bombed our place. Tried to take over our turf in Aveline Bay. A couple of nights ago, we went in to rescue a girl. The president of their club shot me,” he said matter-of-factly. “They want all of us dead, but I was an easy target.”