I can’t beg.
I can barely force myself to continue on with this plan. It hurts me enough to ask, let alone beg. But I need him to fuck me. It’s the only way.
I turn and find Lennox stripping out of his jeans, wincing as he does.
“Sit on the bed,” I say, putting the thoughts of sex out of my head as I realize he’s injured.
He does as I say, probably because he’s in too much pain.
He’s lowered his jeans to mid-thigh, but not any further.
“Is it a bullet?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No, stab wound.”
My eyes widen.
“Don’t be shocked, Rialta. I’m fine. But the dried blood has the jeans stuck to my thigh. I need to get them off and clean it before infection sets in. Otherwise, you’ll never get to find out what it’s like to be fucked by me.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m beginning to think I’m a fool for wanting to have sex with you at all.”
“Well, that’s definitely true. Once I fuck you, you’ll never want another man ever again.”
I swallow hard, slightly afraid that he might be right.
“What do you want me to do?” I ask.
“Pull the jeans off.”
“Won’t that hurt?”
“Yes, but it has to be done. If you won’t—”
I yank the jeans off like ripping a bandaid. I expect a howl of pain or growling, but he doesn’t make a sound. When I look into his eyes, there’s a spark of mischief—he’s pleased by my actions.
I stare down at the deep wound surrounded by black tattoos around his thighs and creeping up beneath his boxers like an invitation to see what lies beneath. I ignore how hot I feel and instead examine the wound. It looks like it needs stitches or a doctor, but I know he won’t get either. Whatever care I provide is all he’s going to get. As much as I hate the man, I don’t want him to die. That would only further complicate my life.
“Don’t move,” I say before running downstairs. I grab what Lennox didn’t use of the first aid kit on Hayes and run back upstairs.
Lennox is still sitting on the edge of the bed in just his black boxer briefs. Tattoos cover his body from head to toe. His reddish brown hair is dripping water down his bare shoulders.
I bite my lip as I look at him and feel an ache deep in my belly. It’s something more than just a solution to my problem—a true wanting. It rattles me and almost knocks me on my ass to feel attracted to this man at a time like this.
“Are you just going to stare at me while I bleed out?”
I roll my eyes and stomp over, kneeling between his legs so I can get a good look at the wound on his inner thigh. “You’re not going to bleed out. Stop being so dramatic.”
I take some antiseptic and clean the wound before looking at the supplies. All that’s left is a bandage barely large enough to cover the gash, but I’m not sure it’s going to be enough.
“It will do,” Lennox says, reading my mind.
I nod and place the bandage over the wound before wrapping gauze around his thigh several times to secure it. I’m examining my work, happy that at least it has a chance of healing and not getting infected, when my eyes lock on a different region.
I stare at the hardness beneath his boxer briefs as I kneel in front of him. I don’t move. He can tell I’m staring, that I see how turned on he is. He wants me; there is no denying that.
“A half-naked woman is kneeling in front of my cock. Of course, I’m hard,” he says.
“Liar.”