Page 27 of Huge Dynamite
“Nah. I don’t have a dad.”
“I’m sorry.” The way her eyebrows squeezed together, she looked genuinely saddened.
“That guy you’re talking about—Nick—he’s the president of the club. He’s like a dad to all of us.”
Nodding, she turned to the nurse and added, “Please get Mr. Hardy fitted with a sling.”
“Wait, wait. A sling?” I had to ask.
“You’ve got to keep the area immobilized for a day or two until the swelling goes down, and then it’s important to move it. But you’ve got to take it easy for a while. I’m also going to prescribe a course of antibiotics, so no drinking for ten days. Is your job physical?”
“No, I’m a numbers guy. I run the books for the Steel Knights.”
“Huh.”
That was all she said, making me wonder, still now, what that “Huh” meant.
“We’re working on a new construction project,” I added. “A new clubhouse.” God knows why I kept blabbing around this woman, but one thing was for sure, it didn’t hurt to speak nearly as much now that the knife was out and the area was numbed.
“Where’s the current clubhouse?”
“Hoppa’s Taphouse. You ever been?” I still cringe at the stupidity of that question. Why would a woman like Dr. Holly Boling hang in a place like Hoppa’s Taphouse? She’s not exactly the type to play darts or shoot pool while she chugs domestic beer and hangs with a bunch of bikers. This is a chardonnay-at-the-country-club type of woman.
For some reason I couldn’t andcan’texplain, that realization makes me… unhappy.
“No.” Shaking her head, she smiled sweetly. “I’ve never been. I don’t get out much.”
“Well, if you ever do get some time off and want a tour, let me know. I’m there most days. And nights.”
“Okay, I will. Thanks.”
Nodding again, she lowered her chin and glanced up at me with her giant brown eyes before leaving to go get my group.
The way she looked at me—sweetly, innocently, with those beautiful eyes…
That was then, about a month ago, on the night we met. Tonight, my attraction to her went past the physical. Now that I know she’s vulnerable and real, I want her even more. Something stirred deep inside me—in a place no one has ever accessed—and it riled my protective instinct. I don’t just want her, I want to protect her as well.
She is so beautiful and smart…
I grasp my rod tighter and begin to stroke up and down, jerking in strong, swift motions, but suddenly, I stop.
I can’t do this.
Again.
I cannot relieve myself at home in my own damned shower, becauseagain,I feel like she’s worth so much more than that.
I don’t want to taint the memory of this incredible woman with something as base as jerking off.
Christ. What the hell is happening to me? Even though tonight was amazing, we still left it awkwardly. There was no talk of getting together again, and this may have been the last time I’m ever going to see her. So, that means I’m going to have to spend my life drowning my hard-on in a freezing cold shower, because when I tried to replace her with someone else, I couldn’t get away fast enough.
Aw, damn it.
Dropping my hold on my rod, I reach out and turn the shower all the way to cold.
“Oh, fuck!” Slamming my fist against the shower wall, I stay as long as I can with the cold water splashing down over my rod, and then I stay longer still as the freezing water cools me off, giving me some reprieve from my aching hard-on…
But it does nothing for my thoughts.
