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Jin already made the call.
We’re just waiting to hear back—find out how much we owe for their help.
“Boarding school.” She presses the activated ice-pack to my sore spot. Her touch is gentle, but her voice flicks like a switchblade. “Where the hell did you get this?”
Sol jabs the scar I forgot.
The one from the bullet that skewered my left side. “It didn’t hit anything important. Went straight through.”
Her nail scrapes the old wound.
My spine snaps straight.
“Why were you in a gun fight?”
“Military. Training exercise.”
She fingers the bullet hole while she ices me down. Her voice is hypnotic, rusty and ragged. “And the shooter? Are they still a problem we need to handle?”
Is she…offering to kill the guy who hurt me?
Praise fuck.
Her possessive threat pops goose bumps down my spine like giddy little shrooms.
And the big mushroom is just as fucking stoked.
“It’s handled,” I say too husky, wanting more.
More of the dark goddess whose demons wink at mine.
“Good.” Her nails sink deeper in my side.
Just fuck me up.
A purr rattles my whole chest.
Sol stills. Draws back her claws. “Reese…”
Not this again.
If she’s gonna say my name all breathy, please let it be knotted on my cock—after enough orgasms to scream her raw, leaving those long, long legs too jelly to walk.
Otherwise, the bullet might as well have hit a couple inches higher.
Pop my fucking lung and take me out of my misery.
Want to bite her, but I can’t.
Hold her, but not hurt her.
Pry out her pain without triggering her trauma.
I twist, knocking Sol across my lap.
She falls over my thighs with a sucked-in gasp. Instead of dropping the ice pack, she straddles me and swings her arms around my neck, holding steady pressure.
Taking care of me that good?
