Hot, sharp, and unholy pain hits me. I hear the sound of death, and I’m pretty sure it’s come from me.
I clutch myself, hissing through gritted teeth.
“Cash! Shit! I’m so sorry.” If she’s moving on top of me, I’m not feeling any of it.
I’m going to pass out.
Or cry.
Maybe both.
I’m pretty sure I’ve rolled onto my side, hopefully away from the women, so that I can suffer alone.
“Cash?” Her voice is gentle now.
She’s hiding the panic pretty well.
“I’m alright,” I rasp.
She doesn’t say anything for a few minutes. Just sits on her knees beside me and runs her hand over my arm. The motion is soothing more than she knows. But only because it’s distracting. She’s a distraction. But in a good way. A really good fucking way.
She tips her head when I finally open my eyes. “Do you want ice?” Her tone is careful, like she’s offering a bandage for my dignity, too.
I nod weakly.
“Ice would be ideal.” My voice still comes out hoarse.
“Here.” She rests a small cloth wrapped with ice gently against my hand, still covering my crotch.
I curl my fingers around the ice pack, guiding the coolness to the spot that hurts.
The shock is simultaneously soothing, mortifying, and a damn turn on.
And after some glorious minutes, I’m able to breathe without flinching.
“Better?”
I blink up at her, and that’s when I notice a lump forming on the side of her head.
Before I can comment, there’s a thump on the floor, then a scramble. I recognize that scraping anywhere.
That black-haired menace of a dog charges into the kitchen and jumps straight onto my leg.
Chapter Nine
