Chapter 11
Twodaysandwehaven’t made it all that far. Neither of us are moving very fast. I still feel like shit. My head and eyes hurt most of the day. Why’s the sun have to be so fucking bright?
Rex is still coughing a lot, but not as feverish.
“You better be in that bed.”
I grunt, rolling my eyes. I killed two fucking Carrionites, and the bastard is treating me like I’m some fragile ceramic teacup. “What are you gonna do if I’m not?”
His footsteps stomp toward the bedroom of the small Ranger station we came across. It’s only midday, but he insisted we stop and rest.
When he appears in the doorway, a full-on scowl covering his face, I smirk.
“Boy, don’t try me right now.”
The pain in my body isn’t as sharp anymore —more of a deep ache. Everywhere. I don’t mind it but hate my head’s still fucked up. Rex says it’s a bad concussion. Which means, not only is he treating me like some precious snowflake, but he won’t touch me either.
And I want his touch.
“You’re not in any better shape, old man.”
He shakes his head and throws something at me. “Found those. Protein bars. Should still be okay to eat.”
I pick one off the bed, reading the label. Chocolate peanut butter. I look up at him. “Not hungry right now.”
With a growl, he stalks to the bed. “Why can’t you fuckin’ listen?”
“Thought you liked me all mutinous. Isn’t that what you said?”
He rubs his hands across his face. “Fuck my life.”
“Fine, I’ll eat.” My eyes narrow, remembering what I said all those months ago. “Then we have sex.”
“No.”
“Then I’m not eating.”
“Devon.”
“Rex.”
He throws up his hands, relenting. Probably because he’s sick and because I’m injured. No way he’d let me get away with this shit if we were both healthy. I don’t put it past the bastard to be keeping a mental log for punishing me later.
I open the wrapper and eat the bar. Too sweet and gooey. I wash whatever’s stuck in my mouth down with water.
Rex stares at me for a moment, something flittering across his face I can’t read, then he gets undressed. My eyes travel over his body, a bit thinner since he got sick, but still just as strong.
I’m not going to lie, when my gaze falls to his erect dick, my mouth waters and a small whimper escapes.
“So fuckin’ needy.” He unbuttons my jeans, then pulls them off along with my boxers. “Take the sweatshirt off.”
I sit up carefully, then tug it off before laying back down. For once, I’m not ashamed of how I’m already hard for him.
He gets on the bed and flicks the cap of lube open. I swear the bastard scavenges for the stuff as if it’s as important as food. As much as we fuck, he never seems to run out of it.
I bite my bottom lip, hips already squirming. “Rex . . . hurry up.”
His brow raises. “Boy, watch that mouth.”
