When all evidence and smell of pickles were gone, I went back to her and pulled her head to my chest. “Better?” I choked out, pissed at myself for not realizing sooner she was sick.
She twisted her fingers in the material of my shirt. “Getting there,” she muttered. Lifting her head, she gave me a weak smile. “You’re kind of adorable when you’re taking care of me.”
“Get used to it, babe. I’m going to be taking care of you for the next eighty years, at the least.” Kissing the top of her head, I stepped back. Reaching into the fridge, I pulled out a bottle of water and uncapped it for her.
She took a few sips before finally getting her color back. “I’m good now. But could we skip the snack? I think I’m going to hold off on eating for a little while.”
“Whatever you want, babe.” I scooped her up into my arms and headed for the back stairs. “Let me show you the bedroom… For a nap,” I amended when her eyes began to sparkle with a new hunger. “You nearly puked down there, babe. I think you should take it easy for a little bit.”
“But…” Her bottom lip pouted out again. “Don’t you want me?”
I kicked open the master bedroom door then carried her to the bed. Fortunately, I’d actually made it, and the room itself was relatively neat except for the towel I’d used that morning lying on the floor at the foot of the bed.
Once I had her on the pillows, I followed her down and pulled her close. “Babe, I’m dying for you.” I pressed my lower body into her side, letting her feel just how much I wanted her. A mewl-like sound escaped her, and my cock flexed against her thigh. “I want you so badly, it hurts to breathe right now. I think I’m going to have a permanent imprint of my zipper on the shaft of my cock because of it. But I want more than just a quick fuck with you. We’re more than just sex.”
“Lyric,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes.
“Did I ever tell you it was love at first sight for my mom and dad?” She shook her head. “It was, or so they tell my brother and me. They said ‘I love you’ to each other the day after their first date. And they can embellish the story all they want, but I know they had sex that first night. Mom blushes way too much every time she talks about their first date for them not to have gotten it on.”
“Kind of like us,” she murmured then quickly shook her head. “I mean, it’s not like we fell in love at first sight—”
“Says who?” I demanded, lifting my head to glare down at her. “I fell hard that night, my Mila.”
“Are…” She paused, licking her lips. “Lyric, are you saying you love me?”
“Not very well, apparently,” I muttered, and she grinned. Cupping the side of her face, I stroked my thumb over her bottom lip. “I love you, Mila.”
“Sweet last words for a dead-ass motherfucker,” a feral voice said from behind us.
Mila screamed, her eyes going over my head, but the feel of something cold and metal pressing to the back of my head kept me from seeing who our guest was. Heart pounding, I used my body to shield Mila.
“Dad!” she cried, tears filling her eyes. “It’s not what you think.”
Fuck. It was her father. This wasn’t exactly how I wanted to meet the man again, but at least we weren’t naked. That probably would have earned me a bullet to the back of the head already.
“Monroe got home and said she saw your car in front of this dickhead’s shop,” Masterson told his daughter. “Then I get a text from Doc saying he saw you leaving the fucking emergency room with some guy he’d never seen before. Said you were the one getting checked out, Mila. What the fuck is wrong with you that this guy took you to the fucking hospital and you didn’t even call me or your mom?”
“Dad, please put the gun away, and I’ll tell you everything.” Tears poured down her face, and she tried to move out from under me, but I only held on tighter. I didn’t care if it was her dad; I wasn’t letting her go when he had a gun in his hand and his finger on the trigger.
“Get your ass up, Mila. Right fucking now,” he barked.
“No goddamn way,” I growled, unable to turn my head because the gun was still pressed against it. “She’s not moving until the gun is put away. I don’t give a fuck if you’re her father or not. You will not put her in danger by waving that damn thing around while she’s unprotected.”
“Lyric,” she begged in a whisper. “Please don’t push his buttons. His knife is out too. He’d just as easily slit your throat right now.”
“Don’t give a fuck,” I told her. “Put the gun away, Mr. Masterson, and I’ll let her up. We can talk like adults, or you can slit my throat like Mila said. But the gun needs to go.”
I heard him curse viciously, but the gun was moved away from my head, and I was finally able to look over my shoulder just in time to see him tuck the gun into the holster under his leather cut.
Mila moved fast, sliding out from under me and rolling on top of me, but facing her father. “Don’t hurt him, Dad. He didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Why were you at the hospital with this guy, Mila? Why didn’t you call me or your mom if you were sick?” He had a wicked-looking knife in his left hand, waving it around as he talked to her. “And why the fuck are you in his house now? I know for a fact that Raven sent all you kids a text telling you who the new tattoo artist in town is. Why the hell would you even go to his shop?”
“Dad. There’s something I need to tell you.” Her voice was weak, cracking every other word. “But Mom should hear it too. Can we just go home and discuss this there?”
“Tell me now, Mila.”
“I-I think Mom should be present,” she argued. “So you don’t do something you can’t take back.”