My right hand grips the front of her thigh to anchor her so I can fuck her hard and deep, until my heart’s hammering and my muscles strain against my bones. Tipping my head back, I finish, filling her up with my seed. Catching my breath, I can’t help but marvel. How can every damn time feel as good as the first?
I’m slow to pull out as I realize that coming inside Laurelyn is better than Vicodin. At the moment, my arm doesn’t hurt at all.
I slap her ass for good measure before dropping onto my back on the mattress. She moves so she’s sitting on the bed, one leg bent, the other outstretched. Leaning over me, she kisses me and I kiss her back, putting a hand on the back of her neck.
“Yeah, you’re right,” she whispers against my lips. “You’re good at being in charge of our sex life.”
I chuckle. “How hard is it to not ask about my arm?”
“Very.” She grins. “But if you can concentrate on having sex and don’t pass out during it, I think you’re fine.” Laurel’s fingers push the hair back from my temple. “Could I see your arm?”
“Knock yourself out. Zoe’s got scissors in the basket.”
When she gets up, she picks up her underwear.
“No, leave those on the floor.”
She looks at me with furrowed brows. “Really?”
“Really.”
Dropping them, she shrugs and goes to the basket. She brings the entire thing to the bed, which isn’t necessary, but I’ll let her play. The gauze is dry, so unless the bleeding starts when she removes it, there’s no need to cover the wounds again for now.
Cutting the dressing carefully, she pulls the wrap away. I raise my arm, the soreness making itself known again, but nowhere near as bad as it was when I woke. Meds are doing something at least.
There’s a scab over the hole in my bicep. I’m lucky the bullet didn’t hit the bone and break it. And even luckier I moved enough for the bullet to miss its intended target, the pump in my chest.
She looks at the linear wound on the far side of my arm that’s been closed with a couple of medical-grade staples.
“Why did Anvil only staple one side? And why is the back wound a perfectly straight thin line?”
“The bullet was under the skin. He took it out.”
She sucks in a breath, her eyes widening. “By cutting you?”
I smirk. “Osmosis wasn’t working, so yeah.”
“Jesus. What did he use?”
“You sure you wanna know?”
She pauses, which is a credit to her intelligence. Always smart. I would never have been so attracted to her if she wasn’t, I guess. I’ve been with a lot of little bubble-headed kitties. Always a game to see how little conversation I can get away with. Zero being the goal. Glad that’s all over.
Her expression becomes determined. “Yeah, tell me everything he did.”
“Iodine solution first. Sterile razor blade. Bullet popped right out. Then washed the wounds with some sterile saline solution and closed the slice with a surgeon’s stapler. Easy as that.”
“Local anesthetic?”
“Nope.”
She winces.
“‘Vil was fast. By the time I felt it, the cut was done. Popping the bullet out hurt, but the real pain is on the other side where the bullet went through.”
“Pain’s not as bad now?”
Shaking my head, I study her face. She’s beautiful, but it’s the focus of her translucent green eyes on me that really does it for me.
