Total pages in book: 16
Estimated words: 15187 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 76(@200wpm)___ 61(@250wpm)___ 51(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 15187 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 76(@200wpm)___ 61(@250wpm)___ 51(@300wpm)
“Yes, please baby. I need you.”
“I don’t think you can handle me.”
“I can. I promise.”
I drive my cock into her from behind, because fuck, how could I not? She’s looks so fucking good like this. Taking my cock like a little queen. I can’t wait to do this for the rest of our lives.
Running through the obstacle course at the Academy is pure adrenaline. I am leading the others as I army crawl through some barbed wire. Why this is here, I don’t know. As I round the corner and begin to run through tires buried in the ground, I don’t see him until it’s too late. Adam Schaffer is standing at the last one, not moving. His foot is stuck or something, but I plow into him all the same.
Fuck. He jumps up, swinging and kicking. Hitting my face first with his iron fist and then my ribs and back with his fucking lead feet. Damn it. That fucking hurt, but I continue the course, coming in second at the last second. Fuck. I skip a shower and drive home, pain radiating from every bone and muscle in my body. I even have a black eye.
“What happened, baby?” May asks, as soon as I walk in the door. She’s wearing my t-shirt again and nothing else. Fuck. She looks good enough to eat.
“Just a little accident. I’ll be fine with a little rest, baby. Nothing to worry about.”
“Bullshit,” she says, and I smile. Even that hurts.
Then she jumps up and goes into caring mode.
Fuck, I’m a lucky man.
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
MAY
I can’t get to the bathroom fast enough to get the water running with the ice in it. Thank God for our obsession with wrestling documentaries. We used to sit there with one another, vegging out on popcorn, watching our favorite wrestlers tell their stories including how they handled the pain. My mind is buzzing with different ways I can fix this because we only have a few trays of ice. I make it as cold as possible and dump our ice into the tub.
I run to the linen closet, grab towels and his robe, and put them on the door. “Logan...” Before I can call him, he shuffles and limps into the bathroom. “God, babe. Here, let me help you.” He slips his bottoms off and leans into me while he lifts his leg and slides in.
“Ah fuck.” he curses. I watch him slide all the way down. I back up towards the door to walk out and give him some privacy. “Stay, baby. Please.” Nodding, I pull down the toilet seat and park it, despite how cold it is on my bare ass. “Talk to me, baby. How was your day?”
“Well, I finally stole the coveted coffee cup,” I tell him to make silly faces for dramatic effect.
“Oh shit. Is my girl a criminal now?” Giggling, I nod my head proudly. “So how long did they say?”
“They are backed up and since we wanted to keep it under wraps, they are doing it in between others for about a month or so.”
“That’s not too bad.” He scoots further down into the water and closes his eyes. Leaning against the tub, his breathing begins to even out, and I know he is not sleeping but finally relaxing. Quietly, I get up, turn on the heating pad, place it on the side of the bed, and three pain pills beside the lamp. Grabbing the water, I place that beside it as well. After making sure anything he would need is within reach, I walk back into the bathroom and grab the buff puff. Putting body wash on it, I kneel beside the tub and begin running it over his body. “Mmm. Baby, thank you,” he says, opening his eyes. My breath stills. His eyes are half open, half closed. They are hazy from his pain, but I can see the panther inside of him. He is thanking me right now, but he is also clocking me, watching me, burning his gaze into me, making me shiver.
“How are you feeling?” I ask, licking my lips. His cock has been at full mast this entire time, thanks to the ice, but it doesn’t stop me from salivating over it.
“Much better, baby, thank you.”
“You don't have to thank me, Logan. You’ve always taken care of me. It’s my turn to take care of you.” He looks at me intently before sitting up in the tub. His finger touches my cheek and I shiver, but not from the temperature.
“I do, baby. I need to thank you and tell you every fucking day that I love you.” My lungs fill with air while I suck in the emotion I always feel when he says those three words. He has been saying it more lately, and every damn time he does, I feel sick. The guilt from not telling him is killing me.