Page 34 of Smoke

“Smoke,” she gasps, and it’s all shaky and breathy, and the hell doesn’t it have my dick jumping in appreciation. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you.” I’d been sitting here in the dark for a good few hours, waiting for her to return for one reason only. Dunne knew where she lived and he’s a dangerous prick.

“What the…” she pauses and takes a breath. “What the hell for?” Her hand rushes to her stomach, and she bends forward, her other hand goes to grip the side table to steady herself.

“Are you okay?” I query, getting to my feet. Normally I would have put her unsteadiness down to having too much liquor, but in this instance, it doesn’t look like the case. “You look kinda green, and I’m not talking about the bra and panties you’re wearing.”

“I’m going to be sick,” she moans, both her hands now firmly over her mouth.

“Fuck,” I ground out, quickly stepping forward and grasping her around the waist. “Bathroom?” She points to a door that leads off from the other side of the lounge. I walk her over to the door and push it open. Immediately she pushes away from me, but only so she can flip up the toilet seat and fling herself over the bowl. Then the retching starts.

The sound is not good and one I’m not a fan of. If I hear someone puking, it takes all my willpower to hold back the need to retch right along with them. I swallowdown the urge, take a step forward and grab hold of her hair, bringing it over her back and away from her face.

While I scope out the bathroom with its white and black tiled floor, basin, toilet and shower cubicle, all looking clean but scattered with discarded articles of clothing and used towels. The vanity has a couple of prescription bottles and a packet of Advil. A thought hits me from out of nowhere.

“Did he put something in your drink?” I seethe at the thought, but I wouldn’t put it past Dunne.

Her head rises slightly, and she blurts out “Oysters,” then her head is back down as she pukes up some more.

“Jesus, no wonder. Those things are slimy, nasty shit.”

“Not helping,” her muffled voice responds as the words echo around the crapper.

“Sorry,” I laugh, which is inappropriate under the circumstances, but I’m a little out of my comfort zone, and anything to keep my mind off puking. “I was just saying.”

She hurls a few more times while I hunker down behind her, one hand holding her hair, the other slowly rubbing circles on her back. I’m not quite sure why the fuck I feel the need to pander to her. What do I care if she’s sick?

“You got a hair band or something so I can tie back your hair?” I find myself asking. There’s a reason behind it. I can’t sit around here hold fucking hair all night. Tie it up and get the fuck out of here. She waves her hand towards the vanity and I see what looks like a black band curled up at the side of the faucet. “Holdon,” I warn before reaching over while trying not to pull her hair too much. When I tug a little too hard, bringing her head up from the bowl, she lets out a deep moan.

Interesting.

My fucking dick pushes up against the zipper of my pants. Fucking traitor.

“Got it,” I tell her when I manage to hook it up with my finger. I stretch it out between my finger and thumb until it’s unravelled into a circle. Using both my hands, I scoop up all her hair and slip the band around it, twist and around again. On the third twist, I twist her hair too, so it ends up in a messy bun at the base of her neck and secure it with the loop. As I go to stand, Tenley sits back from the bowl, swipes a handful of paper from the roll and wipes her mouth. Her ass hits the floor as she moves to sit with her back leaning against the shower cubicle door.

“I think I’m done, but I’m never gonna eat any kind of shellfish ever again.” Her voice is gruff, her throat raw from all the shit that has come up from her stomach.

“You want some water?” I ask, looking down at her. You can barely catch the nod she gives in return as, at the same time, her whole body begins to shake.

“I’mmm sooo cccold.” Her teeth knock together between words. I reach out and hold my fingertips against her bare shoulder. Her skin is hot, which is in total contrast to shivers that are overtaking her. “We need to get you into bed. You’re burning up. Come on.” I wrap my arm around her waist and help her to her feet, but all her strength seems to be depleted.

“Damn, I’m so sorry,” she cries, trying to hold on to me and push up to stand. “My legs are like jello.”

In reply I scoop her up into my arms, a small squeak of surprise leaves her as I pull her against my chest.

“I’m sorry, Smoke,” she mutters again, her hands coming around my neck as she holds on to me. “I’m really sorry for putting you to all this trouble. I know I’m a pain in the ass.”

“Stop saying sorry,” I say firmly back to her. “It’s no trouble, but as for you being a pain in the ass, the jury is still out on that one.”

“Thank you.” Her head drops to my shoulder as if she can no longer keep it upright. “But don’t think for one minute that you’re forgiven.”

“Forgiven for what?” I question, kicking the door open to what must be her bedroom.

“Scaring the living daylights out of me,” she mumbles against my skin. “Not to mention that you broke into my house.” I drop her onto the bed. “Ouch.”

“That didn’t hurt,” I mock her dramatics.

“At the moment, everything hurts. Like a semi-truck has run me over.”

---