“Shooter, you’re wasting my time. I have a job to do. You know what, let’s make a deal. If you can be a good boy and let me finish my exam, I’ll let you see my tattoo on my ass.” She sighed.
I gripped her wrists. “You don’t have a tattoo on your ass.”
She shrugged. “Guess you’ll never know.”
You better fucking believe I’d find out. All the possibilities started running through my head, maybe it was a little heart. I complied and let her examine me. She knelt to examine the boot, probably making sure I hadn't damaged it already.
I was cocky, but I wasn’t stupid. Even if my fucking leg was throbbing.
“Lay down, please,” she said softly.
I huffed but complied. “Amelia, I’m not lying in bed for weeks. I have too much important shit, and people to see.”
“I’m not telling you to do it exactly, because I know better than to think you’d actually do it. But a few days wouldn’t kill you. Then we can look into small movements.”
“Then what, doc?”
“I’m not a doctor.”
“Why not?” I asked. I was just trying to get a rise out of her, but she contemplated an answer. Color me intrigued.
She shrugged, and I could already taste the lies, “Because it wasn’t for me.”
I shook my head; she could have come up with something better than that. She started to fiddle around with the comforter and pillows, adjusting for comfort. I grabbed her hands again, and she flinched, ready to take back her arm. The brief moment I got an idea of who Amelia was, she retreated back into her little hard shell.
“Listen, you can either let me do my job so I can get you back to riding and shedding blood, or you can spend the rest of your life hobbling just wishing that you listened to the one woman that is just trying to help you.” She stood up, taking her hands out of my grasp.
I sat up, in a huff, and I twirled my finger. “Turn around, peaches, I want my reward.”
“I never said when.” She laughed, turning away from me, heading toward the pill bottles that sat on my desk. I grunted and then she said. “Easy, caveman. It’s part of the plan of care.”
“I don’t like how they make me feel,” I muttered.
She started to count the pain medicine, raising an eyebrow. “They’re all here. Shooter, you haven’t taken anything?” She stepped to the bed. I turned my head, because how the fuck was I going to tell her that I didn’t want to feel like I couldn’t control my mind. That I was already keeping my demons at bay; I didn’t want them to be released.
“Maybe another time,” I said softly, before my voice started to raise. “This is bullshit. I know what to do with my own body. And I don’t need a spitfire like you to tell me what to do.”
“And there’s the asshole people know. Look, you can trust me, Shooter. I’m not judging, I just want to understand so I can help you.”
“I can tell Hound that you’re doing a fucking good job.” I said sarcastically.
She threw the pills on the bed. “And then what? When your brothers see that you aren’t back to fight ready, they’ll come after me or question me. Just let me help you.”
“I don’t need your help. I can take care of myself. There’s nothing you could do…” Before I could fight back or push her away from my stubbornness, Amelia lunged forward, bent down, and captured my face in her hands.
My eyes widened because it took me a second to realize that the sweet taste of happiness was coming from her kissing me hard. Something in that kiss silenced thoughts of pushing her away before she could regret following me down this path. But rather pulled her closer to me. Her lips soft and full were nothing but a dream that I was somehow lucky to be gifted. There was a taste of orange or something citrusy from the balm she had on her lips.
My hands slid to her lower back, opening my legs wider for her to step between them. In tune to what we both craved but held back, she moved forward even closer. Whatever that tactic was, I didn’t give a fuck. Whatever thought I had to keep pushing her away from me, went out the window whenshekissed me.
Amelia’s kiss was consuming; it was more than her intended distraction. When I tightened my hold as our mouths moved in sync, she flinched like I hit a sore spot. She let out a tiny whimper, a mixture of pain and pleasure. My touch lightened, my fingers skidding around the fabric of her top, I looked up to see her eyes closed, her heart rate trying to recover. I lightly lifted the side up, seeing a flash of purple and green on her skin.
It took every ounce of self-control and the presence of a boot to not pin her down and get my answers. I just got her, I wasn’t stupid enough to scare her, well not yet anyway. Was it an incident at the hospital, or did something happen after work? I wanted to know.
Her hands still tangled in my hair on the sides, her eyes started to flutter open. Her caramel brown eyes were still lost in a moment of lust. I liked this look on her, a moment where she wasn’t thinking of anyone but herself, taking something for herself. I’d do anything to see her let loose, explore the side of her that is begging to come out.
Then that once lustful drunk look sobered up into panic. “That should never have happened.”
“And yet it did.” I stroked her cheek, attempting to calm her down. She started to tremble, trying to scurry away.
