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“Bastard.” Noah coughed out a laugh.
“Yeah, ain’t we all.” Micah grinned as he mangled his hopeless Texas accent all to hell.
Noah dug his head into the pillow as a punch of lust slammed into his balls. He swore he could smell Sabella’s scent. It was making him mad with the need to fuck. The fever and adrenaline, twice, this close together, was too much. He thought he’d have time to get the refill on the injections whenever he was wounded. Evidently, he’d been wrong.
“Ian has your meds, Noah,” Micah told him softly. “We can’t give you anything for the pain until you get that, you know what that shit does to you. But the doctors sent some new shit, they seem to think they have a nice little concoction put together for that woody of yours and the pain as well.”
Noah shook his head. “No more drugs.” It would go away, it would ease, until he was as close to normal as possible. He’d fought this for too many years now. He was learning to get by. Or he had thought he was, until last night.
“We have to do something for the fever, Noah,” Micah warned him, his black eyes concerned, worried. “There’s antibiotics in it, a mix of painkillers. Same crap they used on you when you took that bullet three months ago. It eased it then. Let’s give it a chance this time, okay?”
Nothing really eased it. Sometimes, the crap the Navy doctors came up with allowed him to keep his sanity, but it didn’t ease the need. The fiery, bloodcurdling lust for his woman.
Not any woman. His woman. His wife.
As he blinked back the sweat from his eyes he loosened his grip on the straps and fought back the driving insanity. It had held him in a grip like iron for months after his rescue. Incessant, burning, the furious lust was like a vicious plague burning through his system.
All he needed was Sabella. If they would just get the hell away from him he could survive it. Let his sweet little wife wash over him like rain.
A ragged groan tore from his throat at the thou
ght of her. So tight and hot, just flowing over him, sucking him into her and taking everything he had to give.
“There’s Ian.” Nik moved from the doorway and headed back into the apartment, where Sabella was.
Murderous jealousy rose inside him. He’d always had to fight his jealousy. He’d never let Sabella know it, had never shown it around her, but it had been like a growling animal inside him anytime, every time another man had been close enough to touch her.
And now Nik was in the other room with her. Big, blond, gentler no doubt. Noah doubted the Russian would take her without foreplay. Or that he would sit her on a table while he bled to death and care about nothing but burying his face between her legs.
“Whoa. Hold on there, Noah.” Micah pushed him back to the bed as he surged upward. “Break my stitches and I’ll knock your ass out like I did with the bullet.”
That pierced the haze, a little.
Noah grunted a laugh. When the doctors refused to give him a painkiller and Noah refused to pass out from the pain, Micah had taken care of it. He’d gone behind the hospital gurney, behind Noah, and the hell if Noah knew how he’d done it, but after that, there was only the dark. And no pain.
He couldn’t afford to lose consciousness this time. Sabella could be in danger. If Toby was in danger, then he knew Sabella would be. It was just a matter of time. God, he should have stayed the hell away from her.
“How’s he doing?” Ian stepped into the room.
His voice was rough, almost as ragged as Noah’s was now.
Noah stared up at his friend. When they were ten, Noah had heard Ian’s screams piercing the desert surrounding his father’s ranch. He’d forced his father from his bed, harassed and screamed until Grant Malone had followed him.
And they had found Ian, cradling his mother as her life nearly slipped away. Screaming. Enraged. His voice broken by the time they reached him.
They’d been best friends from that night. And that friendship had endured, even after Noah learned that Diego Fuentes was Ian’s father. Even after Fuentes had nearly destroyed Noah.
“You look like shit,” Noah growled as Ian moved to the bed, his eyes dark with pain, with regret.
“I should have killed the bastard while I had the chance,” Ian said heavily. “I’m sorry, man. Fuentes should be dead.”
Diego Fuentes was Ian’s father. The man who had tortured Nathan, who had nearly destroyed him.
“Yeah, and once for me as soon as those bastards at Homeland Security lift the ban on him.” Noah breathed in roughly before glaring back at Ian. “Get Sabella out of here, Ian. Get her to Jordan in the comm bunker. Keep her safe till this is through.”
He could smell her, like sweet hot rain.
“It’s bad this time,” Micah murmured to Ian. “Doc send him some goodies?”
