Flash Point (Kilgore Fire Book 2) (14 page)

“Booth!” I yelled when he disappeared from my sight.

Booth appeared in less than ten seconds with a haggard look on his face.

“What?” He asked.

I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Don’t give me that attitude,” I snapped at him. “I’m the one gored by a fuckin’ deer, here.”

He softened slightly.

“I was talking to the nurse that you’re going to have,” he explained.

I narrowed my eyes. “You’ll start my IV if I have to have one.”

“You’ll have to have one,” he agreed. “But I’m not doing it.”

“Why not?” I challenged.

He rolled his eyes. “Because I don’t work here, and there are protocols.”

Five minutes later, Booth watched as the nurse that was trying to start an IV on me missed.

Again.

There’d been a reason that I asked him to start my IV.

My veins rolled.

And they blew.

Literally
and
figuratively.

They’d started in my hand on my left side. Then moved to the hand on my right.

Now they were on their fourth poke and their second nurse, and I was smiling.

Why, you ask, was I smiling?

Because I wanted to yell, ‘
I told you so!
’

He didn’t know this little tidbit about me.

I’d found it out during nursing school when Mia and I were practicing doing IV’s on each other.

It took Mia forever to find a good vein, and it took her over five tries before she could actually get a successful IV.

That’s why no one but her got to do them anymore.

Even when I had to go get my blood drawn for my insurance at work, I took her with me.

I watched as, once again, the nurse that’d been grabbed by my nurse got my IV.

However, after my nurse offered the suggestion to let the blood drip into the test tube that needed to be taken to the lab for testing instead of drawing blood like normal, Booth had had enough.

“Alright, bitches. Back the fuck off,” he said.

My mouth dropped open, and the two women backed off hastily, letting my blood drip steadily on the ground from the IV catheter still connected to my arm.

He pulled a chair up, took a seat beside me, and then proceeded to finish the IV. Draw blood. And hook up the fluids that contained my antibiotics.

I bit my lip to hide my smile, but he caught it and narrowed his eyes at me.

“You could’ve just told me and saved yourself six pokes,” he growled.

I shrugged. “I was mad at you.”

He sighed and crossed his arms as he watched the doctor examine my belly.

The stupid antler was like a fuckin’ exhibit for everyone in the God forsaken ER.

There’d been no less than fifteen people that were not supposed to be in my room, in my fucking room.

“Can’t you just cut into my skin and pull it out that way?” I asked finally, annoyed that it was taking this long.

The doctor, a young man in his early thirties, looked up at me and shrugged.

“Yeah, I can,” he stopped when a commotion from the other side of the room had us looking in the direction of the next curtain over.

“Do not, under any circumstances, use those scissors on my cut,” a man all but bellowed.

The man’s frightened nurse backed away, parting the curtain in between my portioned off room and his.

“Don’t be fuckin’ scared. I’m not trying to get you scared of me. I just don’t want you to cut my cut!” The man growled. “Just help me get the motherfucker off.”

We watched in stunned silence as the man’s arm, which was hanging at an unnatural angle, flopped down to the side as he leaned forward and tugged off the leather vest he was wearing without the
nurse’s
help.

Booth got up and went over to help while the doctor on my side of the curtain poked a needle into my skin without warning me first.

“Fuck!” I shouted, glaring at him.

The doctor didn’t bother to look apologetic as he said, “Give that ten minutes and we’ll get it out,” he said, heading over to the other curtain.

He froze, though, when a woman that was being wheeled in fell off the bed she was laying on, hitting the floor with a hard smack as she convulsed on the floor.

The man on the bed, with the broken arm, flew out of his bed and ran to the woman, broken arm swinging in the wind like it didn’t faze him at all.

“What the fuck, motherfucker?” Broken armed man yelled at the man that’d been pushing the woman into the room. “I fuckin’ told you that you needed to watch her closely. She’s been fuckin’ seizing since I got home to her two hours ago!”

I watched the festivities as Booth helped get the woman back on her bed, then they put up the side rails that should’ve been up beforehand had they been warned of her seizing.

“You need to pad those rails,” I offered to the nurse that put her on the other side of me.

The nurse gave me a look that clearly said, ‘Fuck off.’

I, however, refrained from saying that she’d already been told that she was a seizure risk and closed my eyes, minding my own business.

“Ridley, man, chill the fuck out and sit the fuck down,” Booth growled, making me open my eyes again and stare at the two men.

Booth had his hand planted firmly on the chest of the broken armed man.

I watched as the two spoke, Booth more softly than the other man, before he finally took a seat on his bed and stewed in relative silence, keeping his gaze on the young woman in bed on my other side.

I raised my eyes at Booth, and he looked at me and shook his head.

“Later,” he said.

I nodded, then watched with a detached eye as the doctor came up to me, then immediately started cutting into my skin with a large scalpel.

“Well,” I said ninety minutes later as we were on our way home. I looked down at my belly and the stitches. “That’s going to leave a scar.”

Booth snorted and pulled out into traffic, but instead of him heading for my house, he headed out of town.

“Where are we going?” I probed quietly, the pain meds they’d given me were making me tired.

But the moment I heard him say, “My place,” I was wide awake.

“We’re going to your place?” I sat up straighter.

He nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “You can stay at my place this time. It’ll be fun to have our roles reversed.”

I snorted.

“You were high,” I said. “I was gored by a deer. They’re a little different.”

He didn’t reply, and I fell asleep waiting for him to say something else.

I only woke up long enough for him to lay me in the bed, then work my blood soaked shirt up and over my head.

I wasn’t awake for the part where he put me into his shirt.

Nor was I aware that he stared at me while I slept for over two hours before he went to bed.

And not once did he let me go.

There’s nothing wrong with a man making his own sandwich…if his woman is useless, that is.

-Things you shouldn’t say to a woman

Booth

My stomach roiled for the umpteenth time as I watched Masen slowly rouse from sleep.

Her face had tiny cuts all over it. Her eyes were black.

Her mouth was stretched taut as she grimaced even in sleep.

Her hands were thrown up over her head, making the shirt I’d put her in last night ride up over her hips and come to a rest just under her belly button.

The white bandage that was covering her stitches was partially exposed, making my stomach knot.

It could’ve been so much worse.

Motherfucker.

I’d passed that same exact gap in the trees hundreds of times before, and even I had seen deer there before.

What were the odds that she’d hit one?

High, obviously, if they’d put the sign up.

I just had to be thankful that she wasn’t in a small car.

Her Jeep had been totaled.

The entire front end of the old yellow machine was just gone.

“You need to stop staring at me like I’m broken,” Masen’s sweet, tired voice admonished.

My eyes flicked up to hers, and I smiled, wincing only slightly.

“I look that bad?” She teased, raising her arm up to touch her face lightly.

“Not that bad,” I lied.

She snorted.

“You’re a bad liar,” she said. “I thought you had to do some training today.”

“I called them and told them I’d be late. They understood,” I explained.

Masen’s eyes closed and she smiled.

“Then you can spend the day worshipping me,” she said with a smile on her face. “Brush my hair. Rub lotion into my skin. Take me. Over and over again.”

Even though my dick hardened at her comment, I didn’t rise to the bait.

“You’re hurt,” I said.

She squinted one eye open at me.

“I’m not hurt enough that I don’t want to enjoy having a few uninterrupted hours with each other,” she said. “I can handle a little pain with my pleasure.”

Possibilities started to whirl in my mind as I thought about the implications of her words.

Leaning down over her, being sure to make my hips the only thing that touched her as I planted my hands in the bed beside her head, I stared into her eyes.

“There are infinite possibilities…” I said.
“When you’re better.”

She lifted a lip at me in a silent snarl.

“I don’t like the way you’re thinking,” she pouted, lifting her hands and running them up my naked sides.

I hadn’t slept in anything last night, and the way my hard cock sat unrestrained against her bare pussy had me rearing and ready to go even without the least bit of work up on either of our parts.

She pulled me down, and the muscles in my arms started to burn as I held the position above her.

“Kiss me,” she ordered.

I pressed my lips to hers, our mouths molding and tongues dueling.

She moaned into my mouth and lifted her hips up to grind into my cock.

She hissed when her hurt hand lifted to press into my side.

When I went to pull away, though, her other hand lifted and held onto my hair, keeping me in place.

Then she bit my lip, making my cock jump.

I pushed down against her, making sure to grind myself down into her, running the length of my erection up and down the lips of her sex.

Coating the taut skin covering my cock in her juices, I pulled back and notched the head of my cock at her entrance.

Arms shaking now, I slowly pushed inside of her waiting pussy.

Pulling back enough so I could see her face, I watched her as my length slowly filled her.

I didn’t stop until I bottomed out inside of her, the tip of my cock kissing the entrance to her womb.

“You feel so fucking perfect,” she breathed.

My eyes traveled over her belly to where we were joined, and I watched as I slowly pulled out, then pushed back in just as slow.

I gritted my teeth as I took it slow and easy, scared to hurt her if I put too much exuberance into the act.

She seemed to know this was going to be slow, too, as she started to watch me watch her.

I could feel her gaze on my face, on my chest.

On where we were joined.

Her eyes felt like a caress as I slowly pumped my hips.

In and out of her I went, slipping so easily into her that it felt fucking perfect.

The wide head of my cock burrowed into her wet heat, splitting her nearly in two.

My eyes took in the way her entrance stretched for me, molded so perfectly to me that it felt like we were made for each other.

I was careful as I fucked her, taking her so slowly that her breasts jiggled only slightly with each thrust of my hips.

Taking my weight onto one hand, I skimmed my fingers of my free hand down the length of her side, causing goose bumps to pop up all over her side.

Her nipples pebbled, and it took everything I had in me not to change course and move to her breasts.

Instead I kept the course, only stopping when I met her hip and moving inside…to where we were joined.

I ran my finger along the outside of her entrance, gathering the wetness that had gathered there in the long minutes we’d been making love.

Once my fingers were coated, I moved them up and started to circle her clit.

Not exactly touching, but
close
.

She bit her lip, causing me to smile.

“You want something, baby?” I asked her roughly.

We both knew what exactly she wanted.

She wanted me to take her harder.

She wanted me to play with her clit.

She wanted me to flip her over onto her knees and fuck her so hard it felt like I was in her throat.

Did I do any of those things?

No.

Why?

Because she was hurt.

And she deserved it nice and slow for once.

All of our love making, even in the early days, was fast, hard, and quick.

We never seemed to make it to a bed, and now that I thought about it, this was our first time to actually be here, in a bed, without any obligations.

“Please,” Masen mewled.

I grinned and gave her the full force of my eyes as I finally touched the outside of her clit with the pad of my thumb.

“This what you want, baby?” I asked.

She nodded, eyes hooded.

“Yes,” she hissed out a breath.

I didn’t say another word as I worked her clit in time with my cock.

Slow circles that drove her mad until she was writhing underneath me.

I moved my fingers, wet with her, and slapped the outside of her ass.

“Stop moving or you’ll tear your stitches,” I ordered her.

She bared her teeth at me, but nonetheless stopped moving.

“Good girl,” I spoke softly, moving my hand back to her clit.

This time I pressed down with the heel of my palm, grinding it down and holding her steady as I ramped up my movements.

My balls started to swing, hitting her asshole with each bump of my hips against the outside of her thighs.

She gasped and threw her head back, her lip now bleeding by the intensity of her teeth holding the sensitive flesh.

“Stop biting your lip,” I growled, bending down over her, being sure not to hurt her.

She nodded frantically as she let it go, and I licked the small drop of blood off her lip with a sweep of my tongue before thrusting my tongue into her mouth.