While I’m distracted by what looks like the best salad I’ve ever seen, August lifts the hem of my shirt, revealing my bare skin.
“Motherfucker,” he curses as his fingers press along the bruised skin, his touch light as a feather. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”
“I think you already did,” I whisper.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?” He stands, with me in his arms, and carries me into the bathroom.
“I’m fine. It’s just a graze,” I tell him.
“A graze you never should have fucking got. It’s not fine, Hayley.” August is mad. Although I don’t think his anger is directed at me. No, it’s at whomever’s after him. “This is my fault.”
“Someone trying to kill you? Probably your fault.” I shrug. “Us being at the tree farm? That was my idea, my fault.”
“Don’t do that,” August says, lifting my shirt again. I don’t even think about what he’s doing until the whole thing is over my head and tossed onto the floor.
“Do what?” I ask, suddenly self-conscious that I’m sitting in front of him in just my shorts and a lacy bra.Why didn’t I wear a sports bra today?
“Blame yourself.” August moves to the cabinet and pulls out the first aid kit.
“Hayley, you’re really missing out. This salad is delicious.” Colton walks into the bathroom, bowl in hand.
“Get the fuck out. Now,” August growls, standing in front of me to prevent his best friend from getting an eyeful, to go along with the mouthful ofmy cerealthe bastard just downed.
“What’d I do?” Colton asks, unfazed by August’s anger.
“She doesn’t have a shirt on, idiot. Get out!” August yells.
“You’re the one who took it off,” Colton says before calling out to me, “Hayley, I’ll be in the living room if you need anything.”
I smile. “Is he always like that?”
“Unfortunately,” August grunts. “This is going to sting. Sorry.” He pours the antiseptic onto some gauze and then wipes over my wound.
I suck in a breath, because it does sting. “You know, it’s just a graze. I’ll be fine,” I tell him.
August leans down and blows over the small scratches, cooling the burn. Then he presses gentle kisses just over the bruise.
“Are you seriously trying to kiss it better?” I laugh.
“Yes.” He peers up at me. “Is it working?”
I smile wider. Who would have thought that this big, bad monster would try to kiss me better?
“I’m not sure. I think you need to keep trying,” I tell him.
August stands to his full height. His hands cup my face, tilting it upwards, and then he’s kissing me. Not for show, not to fake it in front of cameras. No one is here to see and he’s still kissing me.
Sure, when I kissed him on his bed, he returned it. But I thought maybe he was just being polite. There is nothing polite about the way he’s kissing me now, though.
Chapter Eighteen
I’d hoped she’d come to me of her own free will. Although, when she kissed me on the bed, I thought it was just the fear, that she wanted something to anchor herself to. There’s apossibility that that’s still what this is. But she’s kissing me, and I’m not going to stop it.
Fuck. I need to stop it.She needs to know what it means if we continue.
My hands travel down to her ass. Cupping each cheek, I pull her center hard against my cock. A small moan escapes her, and my fingers knead the flesh of her ass. With great remorse, I pull away from her mouth, but I don’t let go of her. Instead, I keep her core pressed right up against my cock and slightly jut my hips forward.
“If we don’t stop, I won’t be able to,” I tell her.
