"That makes two of us."
Another voice speaks behind .
"I gave him whiskey for the pain, Elaine."
Aaron.
I turn and he’s standing near the doorway, shirt stained with blood. There’s another bloodied shirt tossed over a chair in the corner.
"Good," I say. "That’ll help."
The man I don’t know cos back in with the kit and hands it to .
"Here you go, doc," he says, trying to grin.
I open my mouth to correct him, I’m no doctor.
"Nurse doesn’t sound right," he adds quickly. "Doc feels.... I don’t know it has a better ring to it."
"Don’t push it," I mutter, snapping on so gloves.
Thomas lets out a humorless laugh that turns into a groan. "Whatever you want to call her, just hurry."
I clean the wound carefully, working through the blood until I can see properly. My hands are steady. They don’t feel like mine, but they’re steady.
"Do you want sothing stronger for the pain," I ask. "There’s morphine here."
"No," he snaps. "Just get it done."
"You sure?"
"Yes."
"Fine."
I thread the needle.
He swears the entire ti. Loud and very impressive in its own way. The other n tease him to keep him talking, to keep him breathing through it and distracted from the pain. I focus on the work. Stitch by stitch.
By the ti I finish, his face is pale and slick with sweat, but the bleeding has slowed to nothing.
"There," I say quietly. "Now you’ll live."
"Damn sha," Aaron mutters.
The n help him up, steadying his weight between them.
"We’ll take it from here , thank you ma’am." the unfamiliar man says, nodding at Aaron.
Aaron gives a look before following them out. Sothing unreadable passes over his face.
When the door closes, the room goes quiet.
I don’t realize how tense I am until I exhale, I turn to leave the room when I see Zane a startled yelp leaves my lips.
Zane stands a few feet away. He’s stripped off his jacket, shirt gone, skin marked with streaks of dried blood. He looks tired and angry?.
My pulse kicks up.
"Are you hurt?" I ask, the words slipping out before I can stop them.
He shakes his head. "None of it’s mine."
I nod, swallowing. "You’re bleeding on your arm."
He lifts a hand and wipes at it. "It’s nothing."
"There’s alcohol in the cabinet," I say. "And plaster strips. Sit. I’ll clean it."
He studies for a long mont, then does as I say. There is just the two of us in the room. Zane has stripped off his blood soaked clothes and stands a few feet away from in nothing but his tight black boxer . My eyes are drawn imdiately lik a magnet to the outline of his cock. And I’m utterly blown away, now I’m not too experienced but I haven’t seen a dick that size before, and I find myself wondering if it would fit. I quickly reprimand myself for having such thoughts but damn he is soooooo freaking hot, I resist the urge to physically fan my slf. Did it just get hott in here or it’s just , cause whew.
I avert my gaze a little too quickly, making it even more obvious that I was just staring at him.
"You don’t need to be embarrassed. If you were standing here in only your underwear, I’d be staring at you too."
"I wasn’t... I’m sorry," I say with a shake of my head. I need out of here.
"Who am I kidding," he says, his voice low and deep. "I stare at you no matter what you’re wearing."
I don’t answer him, I get the items and kneel infront of him, he widens his knees to accommodate my kneeling position infront of him and I inch closer between his thighs and I imdiately regret the position when it brings eye to eye with his cock.
Clearing my throat, I clean the cut carefully. He doesn’t flinch at all, not even once.
When I finish, he stands and the room feels smaller with just the two of us in it
"You shouldn’t have been in here," he says quietly.
"And you shouldn’t have a doctor on call for when people get shot in your house," I reply.
His mouth twitches, not quite a smile. "Fair."
I turn for the door, ready to leave this room and get so more sleep but I don’t make it two steps when his hand clamps around my arm and jerks back hard enough that I lose my balance for a second. My shoulder bumps his chest.
"Don’t fucking touching ," I snap, trying to pull free.
"You don’t get to walk away after that little spitfire ."
"After what?" I shoot back. "Your ego acting up again?"
His grip on doesn’t loosen. If anything, it tightens, fingers digging.
"You were looking at ."
I bark out a laugh but it sounds fake even to my own ears. "You’re delusional."
He leans down, his mouth close enough that I can feel his breath against my cheek. "Don’t insult my intelligence Wife."
"I hate you," I say. "I wouldn’t be caught dead looking at you in that way you’re insinuating ."
"Hatred doesn’t cancel out attraction," he says calmly. "And you were staring."
Heat rushes up my neck. I hate that my body betrays .
"Let go of ," I say through my teeth.
He doesn’t.
Instead, his other hand slides to the back of my neck. Not choking exactly but it’s not gentle either. Just enough pressure to keep exactly where he wants .
My breath stutters. That’s my weak spot
His eyes narrow.
"There it is," he murmurs.
I shove at his chest, weak compared to him. "Let fucking go I’m not in for whatever this is."
"You don’t need to decide," he says. "Your body already did."
"That doesn’t an anything," I spit. "It doesn’t an I want you."
"Maybe not," he says, leaning close and sucking at my earlobe. "But you’re not as unaffected as you pretend."
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