Emma gave him a cursory glance, barely stopping at his bloody knuckles.
“Get that cleaned,” she ordered, then turned to Emmett. “Stay safe, okay?”
“Dash needs you. He’s at the gym. I’ll keep Em in my room until we know more,” Wilder said.
They watched as Emma and Remy jumped on their bikes, taking off down the driveway at a speed that made him wince, and then he looked up at Wilder, his stomach erupting in butterflies when he found himself caught in that dark gaze.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Emmett
WILDER PUSHED him toward the front door, keeping a hand on the small of his back as they walked inside, and the touch damned near burned right through his clothes. His heart was beating frantically, and he needed… he needed to take a second.
“Come with me,” he said, grabbing Wilder’s hand and tugging him toward the kitchen. He knew where Emma kept most of her medical supplies.
“What are we…?”
“Cleaning you up is the least I can do,” he said, glancing up over his shoulder with a tight smile. Wilder met his gaze with a raised brow, his lips twitching and making Emmett jerk his head back around before he changed his mind and pulled Wilder into the nearest bedroom.
Stepping into the kitchen, he walked past the sink to the cabinet in the corner, glancing over his shoulder when he heard Wilder’s soft grunt. He was leaning back against the counter, that long, thick body on full display.
He was so thoroughly fucked. Or he would be, if?when?that man got his hands on him, which reminded him… He turned, looking for the right drawer and pulling it open to find what he needed to clean Wilder’s knuckles.
Wilder sucked a breath in through his teeth as he undid his belt and pulled it off along with his hip holster and gun, placing them on the counter next to him. His jeans slid just a bitdown his hips, and Emmett nearly dropped the bottle of wound cleanser before startling himself back into action.
He walked up to Wilder and opened the bottle, pouring some onto a gauze pad. Wilder held his hands out, and he took one in his, carefully dapping the cleanser onto the wounds. They weren’t as bad as last time. He hated that therewasa last time. That both times had been for him. He didn’t like Wilder getting hurt.
Wilder didn’t make a sound or move as he cleaned his knuckles, but he felt those eyes on him the whole time, his nerves starting to really fray by the time he was done. He put the bottle of wound cleanser away and washed his hands in the sink, then turned to Wilder with a raised brow.
“How’s your side?”
“I’ll live.”
He crossed his arms and cocked his head to the side, giving Wilder a look that didn’t seem to get through his thick skull because all Wilder did was smile at Emmett and reach for him, hands finding his hips to tug him up against him. Those hands then slid up his sides, and he couldn’t keep his body from reacting even if he’d wanted to. He arched into the touch, biting back a moan.
Wilder hummed, nose buried in Emmett’s neck. “You smell so fucking good.”
Emmett pulled back, his brows creased as he looked at Wilder with disbelief.
“Really?”
Wilder raised his hands to cup Emmett’s face, thumbs brushing across his cheekbones in a soft caress that left Emmett gasping for breath, his pulse roaring in his ears. Wilder was looking at him like he wanted to devour him, and there was no doubt in his mind that he’d happily let him.
His heart raced, heat pooling inside him as his lips parted, a groan escaping him when Wilder pressed his thumb against his bottom lip.
“Yes, really. Why wouldn’t I?”
Emmett winced, the need inside him doused with a cold splash. He took a step back, gaze dropping to the floor, his fingers pressed against his lips.
“He hated it,” he whispered, unsure how he got the words out with how tight his throat felt.
Wilder stepped closer, that wide chest pressing against him as his head was tilted back by big hands. His gaze clashed with Wilder’s, breath stuck in his lungs at the ferocity he saw in those green-flecked eyes.
“Who hated it?”
There was a darkness to the growl in Wilder’s voice that had him swallowing hard. Not out of fear, he realized. He liked how protective Wilder was. He didn’t coddle him like his family did, but that darkness? He wanted to step into it with Wilder.
“My ex. He made me throw anything vanilla-scented out when we got together.”
