Chapter 7
chapter
seven
Gemini
L eaning forward against the counter, I shifted my grip on my cock. The strokes weren’t quite what she’d done to me, but staring down at the blurry images, I could almost picture the sass in her green eyes. They sparkled when she smiled, and there was so much goddamn humor in her smile.
But no lie, all that gorgeous, black hair spilling over the pillows while I drilled into her? That was an image that could make me come. I’d wanked to it a few times this week. My dick stiffened and that slow, rolling burn began to ascend my spine when a chirp came from the security system.
The fuck?
The relief I chased evaporated as I pivoted to glare into the bedroom. We had intercoms in the whole damn house. It just made it easier to find each other when we were in a hurry. Another chirp…
Goddammit. Someone had left the button on downstairs again. The chirps were the security system disarming downstairs. The thump of a door closing and then Ollie said, “That’s it Snow, one foot in front of the other.”
“Hmm.” Whatever she said in response was muffled, but the fact Ollie was bringing home a girl had me stuffing my dick back into my pants and zipping up. It would take too long to get back to the edge.
I snagged my phone off the bathroom counter before I headed out of the bedroom and diverted toward the stairs. I hadn’t been sleeping that well this week anyway. When I wasn’t haunting the Cactus, I’d gone to the gym. The tabloids were having a fucking field day at Seven’s expense, and it didn’t matter that we knew it wasn’t him in the photos.
The only thing I really hated was the fact my girl couldn’t miss the damn picture or the circus they generated. The chances of her giving me a call were slim to none. Course, I hadn’t exactly given her my phone number and she had been gone when I woke up.
Best fucking night’s sleep I’d had in a year.
“Okay, that’s it,” Ollie said.
“Hey!” The husky, feminine voice promised all kinds of dirty things and my dick stiffened immediately. Right, so it got off to my girl and apparently Ollie’s bedroom piece. “I can walk.”
“Just stay there,” Ollie said, and I followed his voice to the sunken living room. Weird place to take a date. We rarely brought women home. Clara? Yeah, because Seven had dated her for years, but random hookups?
The last thing I expected was to find my girl with Ollie when I walked into the room. He shot a look at me, relief written all over his face.
“What the actual fuck?” I demanded. Ollie had a hand on her leg and was on one knee in front of her like he was about to go down on her. The black-haired siren of my wet dreams groaned.
“Shit,” she muttered as our gazes locked.
“The name is Gem, Slick. You knew that, remember?” I reminded her, and I shook my head. What were the chances I’d be jerking off to the thought of her and she showed up here?
Wait—what were the chances? Dismissing that for the moment, I focused on where Ollie’s hand was.
“You two know each other?” Ollie swung his relieved gaze from me to Slick, then back again.
“You could say that, and you want to get your hands off my girl?” It wasn’t really a suggestion but the sudden urge to pop the guy who was practically a second brother and was definitely a best friend burned through me. I had to consciously force my hand to uncurl.
“I’m trying to keep her from getting back up,” Ollie protested. “She took a hell of a hit. Some jackass attacked her behind the hotel.”
The words had me really focusing on her. The lights were all on dim here, so I hit the switch on the wall to turn them up to full brightness. Slick jerked her face to the side, grimacing. A ring of red marks encircled her throat.
“I brought her back here because she refused a hospital,” Ollie was saying. “I beat the shit out of the guy and got him off her, but there were paps everywhere tonight, and the last thing I needed was my photo taken standing over the dude.”
Crossing the room, I nudged Ollie out of the way as I cupped Slick’s chin and tilted her head.
“I’m fine,” she argued with me even though she was still squinting badly. The husky voice must be a byproduct of the attack. She had a far smoother voice, like whiskey going down slow and sweet.
“Easy, Slick,” I said, shuttling aside the dozens of questions springing to mind. Yeah, the red marks were definitely going to bruise and there were four—no five half-moon marks, probably from nails digging into her skin. “You kicked the shit out of this asshole?”
“Oh yeah,” Ollie said as he rose, then raked a hand through his hair. “He was banging her head off the car. And she is really woozy, threw up already.”
“I am not,” Slick argued, and she made a pathetic attempt to shove me back and stand. Yeah, she definitely was woozy.
Cupping her face, I lifted her gaze to mine. The lights were definitely hurting her. “Cooperate please,” I said. “Let me identify the issues and we can take care of it, and then we’ll turn the lights down again.”
Her grimace needed no interpretation, nor did her wince as I began to work my fingers over her scalp. I tried to keep it gentle and ignore the silken feeling of her hair on my skin. A little tougher considering I didn’t have to imagine the spill of it now.
“Ow, fuck.” The sharpness in the first word and the echo of pain in the second assured me that I’d found the tender spot. There was some swelling, but I wasn’t feeling the bone move.
That was a relief.
“Easy,” I said as I rose and leaned over her to part her hair and get a good look. There was no blood on my fingers, so I didn’t think it had broken the skin. That said, she needed care.
“Can we turn down the lights now?” If she didn’t sound so damn miserable, I might have left them on just to get even with her for her ditching me to wake up alone. But that was being a dick and I didn’t want to be a dick right now.
Maybe later, when she was feeling better.
“Hey, Ollie, turn them back down and get me a couple of ice packs and some water.”
“Sure,” Ollie said. “Right away, Mr. Gemini, I’ll get that for you.”
I ignored the sarcasm. “Get the med kit for your hand too. You tore up your knuckles.”
“Fuck,” Ollie swore as he strode out of the room after dimming the lights. I leaned back on my knees and stared up at her. The little sigh of relief as it went darker wasn’t manufactured.
This was the same woman who kicked my ass with her sharp tongue and playful gambling. She’d also rocked my fucking world, and I’d gotten it up more than a few times that night. It had been a long time since that had happened.
“Hang in there, Slick,” I said. “We’ll get you fixed up. You have any allergies I should know about?”
“You have a medical degree that I should know about?” The snappy response pulled a reluctant smile to my face.
“Certified paramedic,” I told her. “Helps with the work and when we get into scrapes.”
Her mouth formed a silent O.
“If you want a doctor, I can totally take you to one.” Ollie probably should have forced the issue with her. The longer I studied her eyes, the more I worried. They were definitely dilated and she wasn’t focusing well. I had no doubt there was a concussion, but now I had to worry about a subdural hematoma.
“No,” she argued. “I’ll be fine.”
“Still singing that tired verse?” Ollie asked as he returned with a bucket of ice that also held water bottles and ice packs in one hand and the first aid kit in the other.
“Look,” she said, twisting to try and find him but she wavered a little. Not a good sign. “You saved my ass, I appreciate it. But you don’t need me to be here and I’d rather be somewhere else.”
“Damn, Slick,” I said before Ollie could jump into the conversation. “Way to wound a guy. I know you got off… I even remember you screaming my name more than a couple of times.” My dick gave a pulse at the reminder.
“I guess you two really do know each other,” Ollie muttered as I cracked open one of the water bottles and pressed it into Slick’s hand along with a couple of painkillers.
“You could say that,” I told him. “Drink that slowly. Your throat sounds bad. Gonna wrap an ice pack on it and put another on your head.”
I was glad she wasn’t bleeding—at least visibly. She couldn’t quite hide the pained expression as she took a drink.
Her eyes were half-closed and it gave me time to just study her while I wrapped one of the ice packs around her throat. The Velcro would keep it in place. We had all kinds of ice packs in the freezer. Our injuries varied, so we needed to be flexible.
The night I met her, she had been dressed in jeans and chunky motorcycle boots. They’d been cute on her and had done fantastic things for her legs, but this was a whole different style. She wore the same boots but instead of a T-shirt, she had a nice blouse and black skirt. Nothing high-end but definitely attractive. Maybe a waitress uniform? Was she a cater waiter maybe? Ollie’s suit coat didn’t go with the rest of the outfit, but maybe that was my jealousy talking.
Frankly, her outfit screamed “comfortable” and not “please hit on me.” Hell, it didn't even say “let’s party.” The barest trace of makeup seemed present, but it was hard to tell in the dark. Then I checked her fingers to reassure myself.
No rings.
Good.
She didn’t need the accessories to look good… Also it was reassuring to see she wasn’t married because that had definitely crossed my mind when she disappeared without a trace.
“That feels good,” she admitted when I had her lean back against the ice pack. “The ice, I mean.”
“It’s okay to say you like my hands on you,” I said and she let out a snort.
“You wish.”
“I know,” I said, then traced a finger down her cheek. The red marks on her throat were definitely going to bruise, but her face was unblemished. It didn’t look like the guy punched her. I wanted to know more about the jackass that attacked her.
Her eyes slitted open, and I could practically feel the impact of her trying to focus on me. What I didn’t like was how large her pupils still were. I needed to check for reactivity. I hadn’t managed it when the lights had been on earlier.
“Are you two done? Or do I need to leave you alone?” Ollie’s dry tone hit the right note and reminded me that we had company and that Slick and I had a lot to discuss before we hit the sheets again.
But that was definitely going to be a when and not an if .
“Fuck off,” I told him cheerfully as I stood. “Let me see the hand.”
“Asshole,” Ollie responded, then thrust his hand at me. The knuckles were definitely scraped up. The bleeding had all but stopped. His gaze went past me to Slick. “Didn’t know she was that girl.”
“Wouldn’t expect you to,” I told him. “You can’t really see her face in the pictures.”
“Can see her body,” he countered, and I smirked. He did not have to remind me about that. “But all I saw when I came out was some guy trying to strangle her as he beat her head against a car.”
The image that painted just pissed me off.
“Pulled a you on him,” Ollie continued as I cleaned his knuckles, then applied some antibiotic ointment. They’d heal up in a couple of days. Fortunately, he’d just finished filming a picture and had a few weeks before another one started.
“A me?” I asked as I glanced up. His attention was still on Slick.
“Yeah, you from The Dead Keep Walking .” Ollie grinned. It was one of the first action flicks we’d done as adults. It was also the picture that cemented my desire to get out of being an actor and to focus solely on stunt work. I’d done all of my own stunts on the picture.
Carlisle “Candy” McShane had been the head of the stunt group. He was old Hollywood and he’d taken me under his wing. I missed the old coot. Shaking off that reminder, I repacked the first aid.
“I did a lot of shit in that movie. What scene are you talking about?”
“You remember where you jumped and hit the guy with both feet right in the chest. Then rolled up and roundhouse kicked him?”
“Yeah,” I said slowly. It was a stupid move. The double kick was effective, but it also dropped you on your own ass. You had to be fast.
“Did it like a champion.” Ollie dusted off his shoulder and grinned like an idiot, then he sobered. “What are we going to do with her?”
That was a damn good question.