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So I turn back, all business.
“Let go,” are my words, brisk and professional. The commanding tone does the trick, because he pulls his uninjured hand away, revealing a deep gash, with a river of fresh, red blood flowing. To be honest, it gets to me. I’ve never been good with medicine, and wooziness makes my gut churn even as I clean and bandage the wound.
But at least he’s stopped howling. Instead, those intense blue eyes focus on my frame as I work. It’s so embarrassing! Why oh why did I run out without at least grabbing a sweatshirt first? Or a robe? Or a blanket? Because my boobs push out against the thin material, almost transparent with age. And oh god, but as his eyes drift downward, my pussy gushes again. Yep, right there in the tiny bathroom, I’m running hot and wet like a raging river.
My hands tremble. Can he smell it? Can he smell the wet pussy scent, my personal musk?
Oh god, oh god.
Please, just let the earth open up and swallow me whole.
Because sure enough, those masculine nostrils flare, blue eyes growing brighter. And my traitorous body responds.
A deep tingle starts in my belly, growing as it becomes an ache in my womb. I’d beg if I had to, get down on my knees and do whatever they wanted. Whatever this man wants.
But first things first. I finish wrapping his hand but make no immediate move to step away. Because where would I go? He has me pinned between the wall and the sink, there’s no space in this tiny upstairs bathroom.
So I clear my throat, trying to think of something to say. My words come out like a croak.
“Hey,” I manage. “Hope that’s okay.”
Oh god. Why do I always come off as nervous and inexperienced? Maybe it’s because I am nervous and inexperienced, and a slow grin covers the dark man’s face, those eyes flashing dangerously.
But talk about bad timing. Because as we stare at each other in the bathroom, the air electric, who materializes but Matt, Tim, Will, and Trent, four looming forms in the hallway.
“Yo man,” Tim growls. “What’s going on in here?”
“How’d you get your hands on our girl so quick?” adds Will with a frown. “Goddamn bro, talk about moving at light speed.”
And finally, Trent claps the strange man on his back.
“I see you’ve met our neighbor Macy. Welcome to the club, Ford.”
Ah ha, so his name is Ford. I steal another glance at the dark man. Sure enough, he’s weathered around the edges, older than his brothers, but just as good-looking in a worn-in, mature kind of way.
And in reply, Ford grunts, never taking his eyes off me.
“Yo,” is all he says. Clearly, not a talker, even if that hot gaze is crawling all over my form, making me heat up from the inside. Oh god, is this the girl I’ve become? Or maybe I was always like this. Maybe these huge, dark-haired gods woke something inside that was asleep before. But unfortunately, the “real me” is a chubby, shy, nerd-girl who likes to cook and can’t hold a conversation, especially not with gorgeous men.
So I stammer again.
“Hi,” comes my murmur. “Good morning.”
And it’s a good morning too because my nips point straight at the men, fluid beginning to seep down my thighs. Oh god! Why do I have to be creaming right now, with five guys staring at my bod? Why, why, why? I should be taken to jail and put there until I learn to control my responses.
But the brothers don’t look disturbed at all.
“Hey honey,” drawls Matt, eyes appreciative. “Think you forgot something.”
I’ve forgotten my name, my age, where I live, and all my important stats. But no matter.
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A blush creeps over my cheeks.
“I know, your brother was bleeding so I just ran out of the house,” comes my stammer. “It was an emergency.”
Trent smiles lazily then.
