Chapter Ten
Still Not That Kind of Doctor
"Paintball?" There's a paintball gun with loaded hoppers waiting on the desk when we enter Emmett's room. As I walk up to it I can see forms in protective gear through the window, darting from tree to tree. They duck behind any shelter they can while simultaneously trying to hit their opponents. "Oh, this is gonna be fun. Now I see why you volunteered to stay in with me." We've played before, me and the guys, or most of them, and I'm decently good at it. Especially if I don't have to evade getting shot. And none of them would dare to aim at a pregnant chick— or Apollo and Marcus' house.
"I'm no dummy. Plus, I get to hang out with you. In my bedroom." Angelboy gives me a salacious wink, and now I'm remembering his finger in my ass while I tried to magic our clothes away to get his hard-on in my box. "Uh-uh, shoot now. Play later."
I blush but try to play it off. Seriously, you just changed your underwear. Get a grip, hornball. "Oh, I'll get a grip, alright. Right on his dick," I mumble under my breath.
"Umm… Wildcat? You okay over there? Cuz I swear I heard you talking to yourself about a dick."
If I facepalm myself, no matter how much I want to, he'll know that's exactly what I said. "I said they're about to get schooled by a chick. Really, Em, get your mind out of the gutter. You need some brain bleach to help clean it up?"
"I-uh-hmm… yeah, I don't know whether to laugh or take you seriously right now." I can nearly see him resisting the urge to scratch his head.
"I lost you at brain bleach, didn't I?"
"Honey, you lost me well before that." And now he does laugh. I contemplate shooting him with a paintball, but I don't want to deal with the pissed off owners if I manage to miss. Angelboy is a quick fucker.
I'm down to my last hopper of sparkly pink balls. Rex and Emmett stopped for more than just vitamins because there is no way Marcus stocked the house with these. The landscape is covered in glittering pink splats, but so far the guys have evaded my sniper abilities. I’m just taking aim at where Rex should be popping out of any second, but my eye is caught by a shadow near the carport. It’s unlikely the others can see it from their positions, and I don’t quite want to alert Emmett yet if it’s just a raccoon or rabbit or something.
My eyes widen when I hang out the window for a better view, and now the shadow is the form of a man. The doctor never sees it coming.
A yelp rings out through the backyard, and I start laughing at the cursing coming out of the sanctimonious shit. “Who the fuck shot me in the ass?” An irate Brent heads for the back of the house, his bitching bringing out the others from their hiding spots. He’s not happy that they’re all laughing instead of being concerned for him.
Bad moves, dudes. Seems they all forgot they declared war and no one called a cease-fire. Even as Emmett realizes what’s about to happen and covers his mouth to muffle his giggle fit, I pick the order in which I’m taking my victims down. Gotta get the ones closest to cover first. Damn trees and brush are hard to see through, even on the clear sunny afternoon.
Apollo gets picked off first with a hit to his shoulder. Marcus automatically tries to shelter him, but that just opens him up to a shot in the back. Now, Rex, he isn’t a dummy. And usually, his tactic might have worked— if I weren’t still annoyed with my besties. Rex wraps an arm around Braeden’s throat, using him as a human shield while Marcus and Apollo look on in surprise at his antics.
“That man has got some brass ones. If your BFF doesn’t take him out when he gets loose, I’ll be shocked.” Emmett isn’t wrong. Brade can be vindictive, and Rex should know that already.
I take careful aim at the only place Rex left exposed. The arm around Brade’s neck.
“Birdie, don’t you dare!” See, my bestie isn’t stupid. I share that same vindictive streak, and he knows it. “Rex, let me the fuck go! It isn’t going to work. Run, you idiot.”
But it’s too late. I pop off one ball, and my bestie lurches back from the impact that shoves Rex’s arm into his throat. Good thing they’re wearing protective gear. Even Brent winces at the absolute peppering spray I cover them both with before they can surrender.
“Dammit, Lark, I give! Stop shoot— argh, motherfucker. Emmett, take it away for fuck’s sake. That one almost hit me in the balls.”
Brade, Apollo, and Marcus have all dropped to their knees with their hands up, but Rex tries to make a run for it. Lucky for him my ammo just ran out.
"Aww… there's my little hellcat." Emmett gives me a pat on the head, and I contemplate kicking him for being irritating.
Self-preservation wins out when I hear Rex bellowing from downstairs though. "Lark! There are rules, woman."
"Shit. Em, you gotta hide me. He sounds kinda pissed." I'm not really scared of Rex, but he's going to be a big ass baby, and listening to him pout and wheedle for some kind of favor isn't on my to-do list today.
Amusement colors Emmett's voice as well as his features. "What's in it for me? I'm assuming you want me to take one for the team, and the spanking he's going to want to give doesn't exactly sound fun."
A tingle runs through my lower belly, settling in my core, and Emmett's demeanor turns devious. "I saw that, Wildcat. You want some spice with your sugar?" I completely forget about Rex or his intentions as Emmett gets all up in my personal space.
He lifts my protective goggles off my face to perch them on the dresser before he hoists me up and pins me to the wall next to the window with his lower body against mine. My neck arches as he runs his nose up the sensitive skin, then follows the path again, this time with his tongue.
"Soon— soon, I'm going to rock your world," he whispers in my ear. "But," he adds, pulling back, and to my dismay, letting me slide to the floor, "we have an irate dinosaur arriving any moment."
He shoos me to the open window, indicating I should climb out of it. I balk, any thoughts of hanky-panky fleeing my mind, and start to protest. Emmett holds a finger up to his lips, shushing me, and points for me to look down. Braeden is carrying a ladder with a shit-eating grin on his face, totally enjoying his part in pulling one over on Rex. Since Marcus is right behind him, I'm guessing he helped retrieve it.
The sound of my name filtering through the door prompts my decision to escape out the window, but there's one small problem. "Uh, Em," I whisper. "Bun in the oven?"