Page 69 of Fight or Fly

“How big is this shower anyway?” he asked, after I broke the kiss.

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Notthatbig. Also, you’re not supposed to get the bandages wet.”

“Sponge bath later?” he asked.

Kam snorted, and I couldn’t help the huff of laughter that escaped.

“Deal,” I promised him.

I stepped out of his embrace and went to press a kiss to the less-bruised side of Flynn’s face. He hummed and nuzzled sleepily into the contact.

“Go sleep in the nest,” I told him. “We’ll be along soon.”

“’Kay,” he mumbled, not truly awake.

Kam and I headed for the hallway with the row of bedrooms. Among other shocks of the day had been the discovery that Nikolayev’s soldiers had rescued our packed bags from the safehouse in New York and brought them along when they captured us. Kam’s remaining cash after the purchase of the old car was untouched, and the Kali mask I’d bought him shortly after we first met was undamaged.

More importantly, it meant we had clean clothes. When a rummage around the master bathroom unearthed a decent selection of soap, body wash, shampoo, conditioner, and moisturizer, Kam let out an almost orgasmic groan of pleasure and fell forward onto the treasure trove, gathering the bottles to his chest in the parody of an embrace.

“Oh, thank god,” he said.

We stripped and squeezed into the shower stall—which would not, in fact, have accommodated an alpha along with us—and washed each other with the sort of relief that only grimy, high-maintenance omegas could appreciate. When I reached the half-healed bite mark at the base of Kam’s neck, I paused.

“How are you doing, really?” I asked, brushing soapy fingertips lightly across the raised flesh. “Are you okay with this?”

He slumped forward into my arms, and I leaned into his embrace in turn.

“Yeah,” he said. “I am. Really, it’s fine. I... kind of like having it there, if I’m honest.”

I pressed my lips to his mating gland as I’d done so many times before. It tasted slightly different than I was accustomed to, and the texture of Jax’s tooth marks was unfamiliar beneath my tongue. Kam’s shudder of pleasure was the same as it always had been, though.

He pressed his face to the base of my neck and breathed in. Even in the shower, I knew he was scenting me.

“I love that you’re off the suppressors,” he said against my skin. “Please don’t go back on them unless there’s a good reason.”

It was odd, walking around in the sweet haze of my own perfume—but also freeing, somehow. “Okay,” I said, and felt his lips curve into a smile where they pressed against me.

We finished washing each other and rinsed off, stepping out of the now steamy shower stall to dry off with thick towels and rub lotion over everyplace that needed it.

“Are you coming to sleep?” I asked, even though it was only mid-afternoon.

Kam took a deep breath and let it out, considering. “I think I need to burn off some nervous energy first. Since we seem to be guests instead of prisoners now, I might go make use of that gym we saw in the rehab wing of the medical building.”

I smiled at him, hopelessly fond. “You’ve turned into one of those people who’s addicted to working out and misses it when they can’t, haven’t you?” I teased.

“Apparently,” he said, with a short laugh. “Admit it, though—you love reaping the benefits.”

He flexed his left and right pectorals alternately, showing off the sleek dancer’s build I love so much in the most ridiculous way possible. I dissolved into undignified snort-laughter and leaned over to kiss his shoulder.

“Busted,” I admitted. “And here I thought I was being so discreet about ogling you.”

He kissed my neck. “I’m onto you. I’ve got a sixth sense like that. Go keep our alphas warm. I’ll be back after I’ve worn myself out and had another shower.”

“Have fun,” I told him. “Try not to intimidate any of the soldiers with your awesome gym bod.”

I threw on an oversized T-shirt that I’d shamelessly stolen from Jax’s bag of belongings and went to rejoin the others. They were in the nest as promised, already asleep again—but they’d left a me-shaped gap between them in the massive pile of pillows and blankets on the floor.

I dragged a beanbag over and wriggled into that space, reclining with their heads resting on either side of my thighs. That made it convenient to run the fingers of my right hand through Jax’s short blond hair, massaging his scalp. Meanwhile, the fingers of my left hand stroked lightly over Flynn’s temple, avoiding the worst of the bruising.

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