Page 39 of Doc
“Let me.”I tore open the packet.His gaze met mine, something like surprise flickered across his features.He nodded once, allowing me to clean the wound as he’d done for me before.
“Wallace knows everything.About my parents.About the cover-up.”
I finished cleaning and helped him wrap gauze around his arm, our fingers brushing as we secured the bandage.Even in these circumstances, his touch sent electricity through me, awakening feelings I’d been trying to suppress since that first night in my apartment.
“Your turn.”He reached for my ankle once I’d dressed his arm.
I extended my leg, letting him unwrap the makeshift bandage he’d applied at the barn.His fingers were gentle as they probed the swollen joint, his face close enough that I could count his eyelashes, see the stubble darkening his jaw.
“Swelling’s worse.Need to wrap it tighter this time.”
He produced a proper elastic bandage from his seemingly bottomless medical bag, his touch clinical but tender as he wrapped my ankle.I watched his face, the concentration furrowing his brow, the slight tightening around his eyes that betrayed his own pain.
“Thank you.For everything.For risking your life, your place in the club…”
He paused, his gaze lifting to meet mine.“I’d do it again.”
The world narrowed to just us -- the counter beneath me, Doc standing between my legs as he finished wrapping my ankle, his face inches from mine.I could smell antiseptic and leather and, beneath it all, the scent that was uniquely his.The danger we’d escaped, the adrenaline still coursing through my veins, the closeness of our bodies -- it all crystallized into a sudden, overwhelming need.
My hand moved of its own accord, reaching up to touch his face, feeling the rough stubble against my palm.His eyes darkened, pupils dilating as he leaned into my touch.
“Nova.”My name sounded like a question and a warning all at once.
I answered by pulling him closer, my lips finding his with a desperation that surprised even me.He froze for half a heartbeat, then responded with a hunger that matched my own.His mouth claimed mine, his good arm wrapping around my waist, pulling me to the edge of the counter and against his body.
We kissed like drowning people finding air, like we could absorb each other through skin and breath alone.His hand slid under my shirt, calloused fingers trailing fire across my ribs, cupping my breast through my bra.I gasped against his mouth, my own hands pulling at his belt, needing to feel him -- all of him -- against me.
“We shouldn’t,” he murmured against my throat, even as his teeth grazed the sensitive skin there.
“We should,” I countered, working his belt free.“We almost died back there.Might still die tomorrow.”I pulled back enough to meet his gaze.“I don’t want to waste even a second of the time we have together.”
Something broke in his expression then -- the last of his restraint shattering.He lifted me from the counter, my legs wrapping around his waist as he carried me to the wall.My back hit the peeling paint, his body pinning me in place as his mouth reclaimed mine.The duffel bag with our evidence hit the floor somewhere to our right, forgotten in the heat of more immediate needs.
My jeans were a barrier quickly overcome, Doc pushing them down just enough while I worked at his, freeing him from the confines of the denim.His fingers found me wet and ready, stroking once, twice, before positioning himself.Our gazes locked as he pushed into me with one powerful thrust that had me crying out, my nails digging into his shoulders.
There was nothing gentle in how we came together -- all desperate need and adrenaline and fear transformed into fierce, consuming desire.He took me against that wall with an intensity that would have frightened me with anyone else.
I angled my hips to take him deeper.I matched his rhythm as his thrusts grew faster, more urgent.His ragged breaths burned against my neck, his heart thundered where our chests pressed together.Pain in my ankle disappeared beneath waves of pleasure that built with every movement, every slick slide of our bodies.
My release hit without warning, crashing over me like a wave breaking against rocks.I buried my face against his shoulder to muffle my cries, feeling him follow me moments later, his body tensing as he groaned my name against my hair.
For long moments we stayed like that, joined and breathless, his body supporting mine against the wall.Reality crept back slowly -- the abandoned gas station, our injuries, the evidence, the danger still hunting us.Doc eased me down gently, steadying me.
We adjusted our clothing in silence, but it wasn’t awkward… more like we were both processing what had just happened, what it meant in the midst of everything else.Doc retrieved the duffel bag, checking that the evidence was still secure, while I leaned against the wall, testing my rewrapped ankle.
“There’s a cabin.”He turned back to me.“Remote place the club uses sometimes.About fifty miles from here, deep in the woods.No one would think to look for us there.At least, not right away.”
“Do you think we can trust anyone in the club?After what Wallace said about my mother… There wouldn’t be corruption in the Dixie Reapers, though, right?”
Doc’s expression darkened.“I don’t know.As much as I want to promise you’ll be safe there, it’s possible there are compromised club members too.From what I’ve heard, it wouldn’t be the first time.”His hand found mine, fingers intertwining.“For now, we trust each other.No one else.”
I nodded, squeezing his hand.
We gathered our things, Doc shouldering the duffel bag despite his injured arm.I limped beside him toward the back door, back toward his waiting motorcycle.Every step took us farther from the lives we’d had before, deeper into a dangerous unknown.But for the first time since my parents died, I wasn’t facing that unknown alone.
Doc helped me onto the bike, his touch lingering longer than necessary.I wrapped my arms around his waist, my cheek resting against his back as he started the engine.Whatever waited for us at the cabin -- whatever future we might carve out from the wreckage of the past -- we would face it together.
“Ready?”he asked over his shoulder.
