Page 62 of Lucky Laces
Damn, I’d felt the pull of pain, the warmth of blood dripping down my leg.
I’d just been too distracted by other things—namely the fact that DeeDee is the subject of every single one of my fantasies—to realize that it soaked through my sweats.
Sweats, thankfully, that I didn’t fully take off before I fucked her.
Because I really like my couch and I don’t want to spend the next who knows how long scrubbing blood out of the cushions.
Even as I think that—and then think that I need tostopthinking and start getting my shit together to say, stymie the blood and clean up the beer—Diana stops flapping her arms around and goes into Coach Mode.
A.K.A.take no prisoners and get shit done mode.
She pushes my shoulder back.“Sit.Stay.”Then she rushes from the room, heading for the kitchen.
Since that’s where the paper towels are, I content myself with righting the bottle then picking up the papers, the tablet, and am reaching for the remote closest to me when she bustles back in fully clothed.
“Damn,” I say under my breath, wondering if I can talk her into doctoring me naked.
Considering the intensity of her scowl when she spots me having moved, I don’t think this is likely.
Evenifher glowering at me like that is fucking adorable.
I suppose it also means that she likely won’t appreciate me kissing it off her face.
“Here,” she mutters, handing me a wad of paper towels.“Put pressure on your leg.”
I do as she says and don’t hide the fact that I’m watching her ass as she bends down and wipes up the beer.
“I hurt you again,” she whispers.“I shouldn’t have jumped into your arms.”
Reaching forward, I snake an arm around her middle and haul her back to me.
“Ack!”she squeaks.“Careful.”
“I’m fine, DeeDee.”I kiss the hinge of her jaw.“And I promise you that you jumping into my arms was the best thing that’s happened to me today.”I smile at her, love that her face goes soft.“And in case it’s not obvious, I wasn’t feeling anything close to pain.”
That soft only lasts a second.
Because the guilt charges back in.
“Nope,” I interrupt when she opens her mouth, no doubt to apologize again.“I’ll put some pressure on my leg.We’ll get something to eat.And then it will all be good.I promise,” I add when she begins to protest in earnest.
“But I need to call Doc,” she whispers.
“I’m fine, sweetheart.”
“I still need to call him.”
“No phone calls.”I tug her ponytail.“Because I’mfine.”
She surprises me by leaning in and slanting her mouth over mine.
“Fine or not,” she says after she’s kissed me long and deep and wet, leaving us both panting for air and me hard as a rock again (seriously, who’s worried about the bleeding on my thigh when all of my blood is in my dick).“You’re my player, and I need you back in commission ASAP.And,” she adds before I can think about how that stings, to just be a player, and to remember that I’m also one that’s become a problem because I can’t get the new system down, “you’re also a man who I care about, a man who I hurt again and I need to do something to get rid of all this guilt that’s eating me up inside”—gentle fingers on my jaw, running through the strands of my beard—“so just shut up and quit bitching already.”
The gentle fingers.
The soft tone.
The fact that I want to get rid of all her guilt…
