Page 56 of Cut Me Down

“Not sure, Carter’s looking up information on him now.”

“Thank you.” She seems to start to relax, and her breaths even out. I feel my own relief cover my body like a warm blanket, and I just want to drape her in it.

“Always.” I pull back a little and run my finger over her cheek. Losing myself in the softness of her face, but careful not to smear the blood on her. She catches a look at my hand. Her eyes widen lightly, and she reaches up with her own to grab it.

“Damien…” Fuck, the way she says my name gets me hard.

“It’s fine, doesn’t even hurt.”

“You’re bleeding.” She furrows her brows in a worried state.

“So?”

“Should I ask who I'm going to kill?” She asks with that ever-present attitude, but I smile seductively at her. She’s worried about my hands? That sense of empathy towards me is new for her. Even if she tries to mask it with animosity, I see right through her. “Get inside let’s get that cleaned up.”

“Is that an invitation inside?” I joke, recalling her anger for my lack of permission into her apartment.

“You’re such an ass.” I can’t help but laugh and the tweak of her own grin before she masks it with a scowl might be my undoing.

“I'll come inside, but you don’t have to clean me up.”

“You just came to my rescue, again. I can clean your hands.” She grabs my wrist and pulls me inside. Feeling safe enough not to lock the door back. She’ll learn soon enough she never has to feel obligated to do something with me. I would’ve killed the man just because she told me too, she doesn’t need to feel like she owes me anything.

“Where’s Serena?” I ask, curious if the little spit-fire is going to interrupt us.

“Passed out on the couch. She’ll be out the rest of the night. Nothing will wake that bitch up when she’s that drunk.”

“So, she won’t hear me bend you over?” She cuts me a look as we enter her bathroom, and I have to fight the urge to stick my hand out and grasp that pretty jaw to pull her stare closer to me. I lean against the counter, and she begins wiping my knuckles off with a wet cloth. “You really don’t have to do this.”

“You took care of me?”

“Because I wanted to, not because I felt like I had too.” She looks up at me with sadness and realization in her eyes. Her big brown eyes glistening with guilt. I think I actually hurt her feelings by assuming there were ingenuine motives behind her actions.

“I do want to…” She says quietly, barely above a whisper, and I just nod at her. Last night was great, I had woken up the moment she twitched, but I wanted to see if she actually wanted me or if she was just moving in her sleep. Nope. She wanted me. I’ll never tell her that, because she’d never do it again, and she might actually feel embarrassed by her need. Her stubbornness almost outweighs her lust and caring feelings for me.

Almost.

She takes a dry towel and holds it against my knuckles to stop the bleeding. Almost as confidently and accurately as I did with her own hands. She might have learned something from last night besides the introduction to her own desires. She does learn very quickly, and it might be from the years of abuse and neglect, but she also adjusts to change very quickly.

Reaching into the bottom drawer, she grabs the gauze and bandage wraps. My cuts aren’t deep enough to need liquid skin or any other synthetic intervention, but I can see her contemplating it. Is she truly concerned for me? Of course she is. She’s so compassionate and kindhearted. I could slaughter children in front of her, and she’d never completely hate me. I’d never do that, but she’d probably even find it hot eventually. She thinks Anakin Skywalker is the sexiest character out there and look at what he did.

“Don’t worry little wolf, I'll still be able to make you come tonight.” She looks up to me, cheeks flooding red and she’s trying not to grin.

“Believe it or not, that’s not my only concern.” She shakes her head in tight movements, as if she’s taunting me. I do believe that. She’s a very caring woman, and she’s being quite tedious with my hands. I can’t point out the fact that she cares yet. She’ll withdraw herself after, and we’d have to start this cycle over again. It is nice to see her, and her not immediately go into defensive mode. Perhaps a change of subject to the annoying woman on her couch will ease things.

“Your friend doesn’t really like me, does she?” Not that I give a shit, but she does. Ashia keeps her eyes on my hands, purposely not reacting to my statement. She doesn’t want to tell me what her friend thinks. She actually doesn’t talk to me about Serena, and I know she does it intentionally.

I’ve read their messages, and while she doesn’t say a whole lot about me, her friend has said enough. She clearly doesn’t like me with Ashia, but that begs the question of why hasn’t she done anything to try and stop me?

“Her opinion matters to you?” I ask curiously. She lifts those gorgeous, puppy brown eyes and looks at me.

“Not necessarily her opinion. I can form one of my own. It’s her support that matters to me. She is very important to me. I know she’s demanding, and hard to deal with sometimes, but she’s my best friend. She’s been with me through everything, and is one of the few people to never abandon me. She’s practically my sister. If you want me, then she comes with me.” Her tone turns stern, but only slightly before her face softens again. “Just try to warm up to her? For me?” Fuck that almost steals the breath from my lungs. How am I supposed to resist her hypnotizing eyes? The one thing she’s actually asked of me, how can I say no?

“Okay.” That sweet smile fidgets at the corner of her mouth as she finishes with my hand. She’s slowly finding out that she loves getting her way. It’s not often she does, and she doesn’t know how to accept things that are given to her, either physically or emotionally. She has no idea how much I plan on spoiling her. “It’s her warming up to me that might be the problem.”

“Well, our…situation, is a little out of the box.” My face distorts into a tight agitation.

“Situation?”

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