Page 38 of Lawless
It looked exactly like a pre-Collapse doctor's office. Reaper sat me on the counter, but there was a bed complete with the sheet of paper covering it. The cabinets held tongue depressors, cotton balls, gloves, syringes with various sizes of needles, first aid supplies, surgical sutures and more. As my eyes moved along the lower cabinets, I also spied rows of pills. My vision was too fucked to make them out, but I could only imagine they were likely pain medications and antibiotics. Some of the hardest and most expensive drugs to come by.
"Where did you get all this?" I asked Reaper.
"Gunner," he answered simply, dropping the now blood-soaked washcloth into the metal trash can. He pulled open another drawer to reveal a box of sealed alcohol wipes. Grabbing a handful, he tore open one and began cleaning the cuts on my face.
"So Gunner's a skilled procurer of weaponsandmedical supplies?" I couldn't look at his eyes as he examined and touched me. It was too intense. He was so close. And like Jandro, he smelled really fucking good.
"No," he chuckled. "This was a nurse's office before we took over the community. It had already been raided by the time we showed up, of course. But an inventory list was taped to the wall. I told Gunner to get everything on it and then some. He's the best at what he does, so he made it happen."
"And why would you want a nurse, ah, medic's office?"
"Isn’t it obvious?" He pulled away from me, those green eyes still every bit as intense. "Our way of life is dangerous. I trust my men with my life, but not everyone gets that privilege. Therefore, my men are not easily replaceable. I need to be able to keep them alive."
"So all you need's someone with the skills to do it," I concluded. "That's why you kidnapped me. And yet you let me get my ass beat."
"I can't interfere with Fight Nights. It's club law, which I am not above," he said. "Tell you what. I'll teach you a few things. So you can get her back next month and you'll be even."
"That's a shitty apology," I spat out. "And I'm sure you'll go back to fucking her anyway."
I had no idea where that last outburst came from. It sounded jealous and petty. My brain had been knocked around in my skull too many times, that had to be it. In any case, it was too late to take it back.
Reaper only grinned as he closed the distance between us again. He wedged open my thighs to stand between them, hands anchored on my hips and his chest just skimming contact with mine.
"How's this for an apology?" he whispered before cupping the back of my head and slanting his lips over mine.
My poor, rattled body exploded with new sensations. Shock, warmth, fear, andwhat the fuck, he's a damn good kisser.
As if by instinct, my mouth parted for his, letting his tongue slip through. When I realized I could still taste blood, I tried to pull away, but he held strong onto the back of my head and shoved his tongue in deeper, as if helikedthe taste of my blood.
Every kiss rolled seamlessly into another, like he was savoring me. The blood rushing to my lips couldn't have been good for my open wounds, but his mouth was like a soothing balm over mine.
I didn't know how much I needed this, not until my sore, scraped hands reached up to wrap around his neck, my fingers threading through his rich, dark hair to deepen the kiss.
When my last touch was violent, I needed this to feel better. When my last kiss was in a drunken, sloppy haze over a year ago, I needed a skilled mouth like his to remind me of how good it could be.
The moment he pulled away for a breath, insecurities hit me like another punch to the face. After what just happened, how kissable did I really look? I sure as shit didn't even win that fight. Why wasn't he kissing and fucking Heather, who was surely riding high on beating me into the pavement?
His gaze had softened, eyes hooded with lust and taking off the edge of that intensity. He kissed my forehead and my swollen, bruised eyes. It almost seemed like he was reassuring me.
"You fought well," he murmured, lips grazing my cheekbone. "With some training, you can hold your own against anyone."
"I'm not a fighter," I protested, hyperaware of his hands returning to my waist. They felt so good massaging me, now his kisses seemed to be soothing my pains as well. What kind of witchcraft was this?
"Oh? You're a lover, then?"
I didn't miss the implication in his tone, nor the way his arms circled around me or how his lips found their way to my neck. Heather hadn't touched me there, only Jandro did.
A strange rush of heat filled me at the thought of two men kissing me in the same place less than an hour apart.
"I'm a healer," I answered. "And if I have to go along with your violent traditions, I won't be able to do my job."
"Let's make a deal then." Reaper paused to kiss my bare shoulder before lifting his face to mine again. "You'll be exempt from Fight Nights if you agree to be my club's medic."
I didn't know if I wanted to hit him or kiss him again.
"You know I can't refuse that," I seethed through my teeth. "Because of what I told you last night. Not much of a deal, is it?"
He lifted one broad shoulder in a lazy shrug. "I wanted to learn more about you before offering you anything. A medic that leaves my men to die isn't of much use to me."
