Page 39 of Stone

Smoke continues to entertain Sasha while Doc lays out the dos and don’ts, hands me the meds Oriana needs, and fills me in on the possible negative signs to look out for. Once I’ve all the information, and he again reassures me that she will be fine, he takes his leave.

“It’s getting late,” I voice to Smoke. “I really need you to fill me in on what went down, but I need to get Sasha ready to go down for the night. Then we can talk.”

“You do what you need to do,” he waves me off. “Give me a call when she’s settled. I’m going to get over to the pit, make sure that Edge and Crave haven’t stolen all the fun, leaving me nothing to play with.” He gets to his feet while I grab a cloth to wipe some of the mess from Sasha’s mouth.

“I’m fun, Uncle Smoke?” Sasha’s eyebrows pinch together, and she pouts, but as I’m wiping her face, I’m not sure if that’s directed at me or at Smoke.

“The best fun ever, darlin’, but as it’s your bedtime, it’s time for me to go.” She holds out her arms wide towards him. Universal kid body language for I want a hug. Without a single hesitation, my prez, the hard man who will be coating his hands with blood within the hour and relishing every moment of it, shows his soft side, scooping up my baby girl and giving her exactly want she’s asked for.

“Fank you, Uncle Smoke, for looking after me when Orio got sick.” Thank fuck I wiped her face because the next minute, she’s squashing a big kiss to his cheek, finishing it with a “Mwah,” sound.

“Darlin’, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

ChapterTwenty-Six

Stone

When I peek around the door to my room on the way to run Sasha’s bath, under the light of the lamp on the bedside table, I can tell that Oriana’s breathing is steady and even, assuring me that she is sleeping soundly. As promised, I let Sasha look in too, but we leave without waking her.

All through bath time, Sasha fires questions at me. Will Oriana be feeling better tomorrow? Will she be able to play with her, and does she have a big lump on her head?

All it did was affirm how close my baby girl had become to Oriana, and she wasn’t the only one.

The questions carry on throughout the rest of her bedtime routine until I finally distract her with a story. Halfway through the book, I glance down at her angelic face to find her already fast asleep, which meant no second story tonight.

I slip out of her room, making sure the monitor is on, taking the receiver with me.

I check my watch. It’s been over three hours since Doc left, and around the time I should be thinking about waking Oriana up to check she’s responsive.

I nip into the house bathroom first. Pulling off my T-shirt that’s still damp from bathing Sasha, and scrub the fabric over my face before tossing it on top of the laundry hamper. I take a piss and while doing so, it dawns on me that I haven’t eaten since breakfast. I toy with the idea of going to grab something but note that, in fact, I’m not hungry.

After washing my hands, I go to my room and push open the door.

Oriana is still in the same position that she was when I checked on her last, worryingly so. I walk over to the side of the bed nearest to where she’s laid. Placing a hand on her shoulder, I give her a gentle nudge.

“Oriana,” I say softly, but when she doesn’t move, my heart vaults up into my throat. I give her a firmer shake. “Hey, Oriana.” She makes a soft moan which morphs into a painful groan when her body uncurls from the foetal position that it’s in. Her eyes, however, stay firmly shut. “Open your eyes for me, sweetheart.”

“Fuck,” she grits out. “Do I have to? Everything aches.”

“I know, honey, but I need to check on you.” I feel kinda guilty putting her through this when she seemed to have been sleeping so soundly, but I ain’t going to risk missing any signs of complications with her head injury. “If you let me, I can give you more pain relief.”

“Promise?” She asks, opening one eye to peek up at me, awaiting my response.

“Sure thing, but you need to wake up first,” I smile back at her. “It won’t take long, and then you can go back to sleep.”

“Ooh,” her face scrunches up, no doubt her body aching when she rolls onto her back and tries to push herself up into a seated position.

“Hey, let me help you.” I place my arm around her and lift her slowly, repositioning the pillows until they are against her back, which is now resting against the headboard.

“Thank you, my joints are so stiff, guess they seized up a little.” She splutters with a yawn. The sheet is pooled around her waist, the YOMC tee that she’s wearing does nothing to hide the fact she’s not wearing a bra. “I’m so sorry about this, being a burden, taking up your bed.”

I know I should be looking at her face, but her tits are glorious, and me being a tit man, it’s hard to look away. The fabric is tucked in the underside crease of each breast, pulling it tight across her heavy, round breasts. Her nipples are hard and prominent from the sudden hit of cooler air to her skin.

When she pulls at the fabric, I hold my breath but then let it back out with a sigh of disappointment when it becomes obvious, she’s just tugging it away from her skin, and not taking the T-shirt off completely. Damn, I’d love to see those tits in the flesh.

Can’t deny it’s a tempting sight, especially when she’d dressed in one of my T-shirts, but I force myself to raise my gaze to her face.

Her head, however, is tilted forward, her eyes down, avoiding my gaze. Cheeks flushed pink; her lips parted as she lets out a shaky breath. With her fingertips, she strokes down her arm, telling me that although she might be embarrassed at my attention, she’s also aroused.

---