Total pages in book: 205
Estimated words: 204377 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1022(@200wpm)___ 818(@250wpm)___ 681(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 204377 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1022(@200wpm)___ 818(@250wpm)___ 681(@300wpm)
He kicked away the blankets at some point, and his sweatpants sit low on his tapered hips, giving me a full view of more brawn than any man has the right to have. With all that stacked muscle, he’s plenty insulated. Definitely hot.
I glance up into the blackest midnight eyes staring back in the darkness.
Yep. He caught me checking him out. I’m not even sorry.
But I am concerned.
“May I check your temperature?” I scoot out of the bed and fumble for the bedside lamp. “It’ll make me feel better.”
A sigh heaves behind me as I flood the room with light.
He patiently lets me poke and prod and fuss over him, those surly eyes ever watchful, tracking my every move.
Once I have a temperature reading, he asks, “All good?”
“It’s a little high, but yeah, it’s okay.” My gaze lowers to his thigh, where the worst of his injuries lies hidden. “Does your wound feel hot? Any increasing pain?”
He shakes his head.
“I need to check it for oozing and swelling.” As I perch on the mattress beside him, an ungodly pressure pinches in my bladder. “If it doesn’t start to close after ten days…” I press a hand against my lower belly, feeling lightheaded and needing the bathroom. “It can turn into sepsis, and I don’t have the proper meds—”
“Frankie.” He grips my arm and squeezes. “When was the last time you ate?”
“I don’t…”
I don’t remember. Was it yesterday? He and Leo returned last night. I drank vodka. I drink every day. To forget. But did I forget to eat? Did I eat the day before? Or the day before that?
“When was the last time you ate?” I ask.
“I get that you have no appetite.” His dark brows slant into angry dark brows. “I blame myself for what you’ve endured.”
“No, that’s not—”
“I’m talking.” His eyes flash. “This shit you’re doing to your body, ignoring your health, starving yourself…that’s over. You’re going to eat what we feed you, every meal, until you return to a healthy weight.”
“What if we run out of food?”
“Let me worry about that.”
“Is that your answer to everything?”
“Yes.” His hand skates down my arm to my wrist, and his thumb idly strokes the sharp bone there. “Leo is making breakfast now. You will eat every single bite.”
“You’re a caveman.”
He makes a growly grunting sound, proving my point.
We stare at each other in stubborn silence. His eyes are potent, swirling with black memories and dangerous promises. He should be sleeping, recovering, not expending precious energy on whatever this is.
“Do you need to use the bathroom?” I squirm beneath his scrutiny.
“No, but you do.” His strong fingers tighten around my wrist. “You’ll wait for an escort.”
“Yeah. I remember. I won’t go anywhere alone. I’ll eat what and when you say. I’ll cooperate, but you will do the same for me.”
“Meaning?” He arches a black brow of stitches.
“You’ll stay in bed until I approve light activity. No strenuous exercise for two months.”
“Fuck that.”
It’s my turn to wing up a brow.
“All right.” He huffs out a breath. “Is that it?”
“You’ll let me check your vitals, monitor your organs, clean your wounds, give you pain meds as needed, and generally fuss over your health until I’m satisfied.”
“Christ.” His lips peel back with a grimace. “You drive a hard bargain.”
“Do we have a deal?”
“Fine.” He relaxes into the bed and lets his eyes fall to half-mast. “I’m all yours.”
Irresistible words whispered from irresistible lips.
I’ve never felt possessive before. Always considered that a man’s weakness. I never felt the compulsion to own someone’s entire being like that. Never needed a man to say he belonged to me and no one else.
Even Monty kept parts of himself away, parts dedicated to his career and his hobbies and evidently, his other lovers.
But with these men? These three beautiful, tortured souls? Everything inside me screams to claim, protect, and make them mine. They do belong to me, and I will fight to the death to hold onto them.
Of course, I keep those crazy thoughts to myself as I check his vitals and examine his wounds. When I reach the one on his thigh, I pause.
Looking beneath the bandage requires removing his sweatpants. If he were anyone else, I would navigate the awkwardness with a warm smile and a clinical tone. And he would be in a hospital, wearing a gown, surrounded by other medical personnel.
I’m so out of my realm.
Glancing up, I find his eyes on mine. Always watching. Stripping me bare with his intense stare.
“If you want me to get naked,” he says smoothly, “you only need to ask.”
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“I think we’re past that. Did you not see my junk last night?”
“I didn’t stare at it.” My cheeks heat.
“Well, fuck me. Would you look at that blush?” The corner of his mouth quirks up. “And to think, I’m the virgin.”