Chapter Twenty-Four
She led me into her nice little house, and tossed her jacket and bag by the door as she closed it.
Then we just stared at each other for a long moment, probably wondering what the fuck would happen next.
I really did come here to make sure she was okay, but after the way she just kissed me outside, I kinda wanted to just drag her to any fucking surface I could spread her out on, and tongue fuck her, just to see if I could make her disturb all those neighbours of hers again.
She wasn’t looking like she wanted me to do that though. In fact, she looked nervous as hell now we were inside her house. I tilted my head at her, wondering whether to make this easy on her or not.
“I’m not gonna steal the family silver, little pain. Take some deep breaths or something.”
She scowled at me, pointing at the sofa like she was telling a dog to sit.
“You want me to do you over there? I normally like a little foreplay first, but okay, sure.”
“Don’t be a wise ass, Grease. Can we just sit and talk for a minute?
I’ve had a really weird night.” She wobbled a little, and grabbed for the wall, but I got there first, catching her hand and leading her carefully to her sofa.
She leaned back against it with a groan, and I realised she was suffering more than she’d let on before.
I found her kitchen and filled a glass with water, bringing it back to her, and sitting beside her as I offered it.
“I’m not drunk,” she hissed at me, and I couldn’t help but laugh at her sassy little pout.
“Baby, if this isn’t you drunk, then I’m tripping, because you’re so cute on those little bambi legs right now.”
“I’m sitting down,” she grumbled, reaching for the water with both hands and carefully lifting it to her lips.
“That’s my good little naughty cop. Isn’t that better? Lemme hold that for a minute.” She relinquished it pretty willingly and leaned back again, one hand grabbing her forehead as she groaned.
“Gonna chuck up?”
“No,” she gritted out, “I’m not that drunk.” Okay, so we’d progressed from ‘not drunk’ to ‘not that drunk’, so maybe reality was setting in at last.
“How much did you have?” Another glare, I mean, thank fuck I found them so hot or I’d be offended, or some shit.
“It’s a sensible question. I wanted to make sure that cunt didn’t dope you with something, that’s all. If he did, you might need a doctor.”
PC Pain groaned again and closed her eyes. “I never leave my drinks unattended, and I stopped early in the night. Two beers and a few shots. Three. Maybe four. I don’t drink often.”
Huh. How was she walking in a straight line at all if that was the case?
“I should get you to bed, little pain, you need to sleep it off.”
She blinked drowsily at me, trying to argue, but she was fading by the fucking minute, so I dragged her back off that sofa, and lifted her up, carrying her to the stairs back in the hallway, and finding the bedroom that looked like it might be hers.
There were two, but the other one had boxes piled up in it.
I lay her on the bed, helped those damn pointy shoes off her feet, then struggled to get the covers out from under her, and she started to giggle.
“Is this your first time bedding a woman, Grease?” Damn, she was cute when she was ‘not that drunk’. I booped her nose, and then wondered where the fuck I even learned that crap, grinning when she giggled again.
“Yeah, gotta say this is the first time I’ve put a fully clothed woman in a bed.”
She suddenly sat up, and started tugging at her clothes, stripping off awkwardly, and revealing soft pale skin that needed a whole bunch of hickeys at the very least, and finally, pert tits, with peaked nipples, which were begging for my tongue.
“Fuck me, little pain, you’re gonna be the death of me.” She smiled triumphantly at me, and fell back against the pillows, waving her hands at herself.
“Look at all this. You could have all this, if you weren’t such a moron.” Ouch. She rolled over onto her side, and tugged at the covers, hiding all that gorgeous flesh from me.
“You ghosted me. You hurt me. I would have given… given you… all… this…” she practically passed out right in front of me, but her words had definitely had the desired effect, hitting me like sharp little darts.
Fuck. She wasn’t just pissed at me. She was hurt.
I hurt her. Fuck Don Rossi for calling me away that fucking night. Of all fucking nights.
I headed back downstairs, and grabbed her handbag, refilled the glass of water, and found some painkillers in her kitchen cupboard.
I set those beside the bed for her, tentatively used my two forefingers to poke around in her tiny handbag, so I could dig out her phone, and rested it on the charging pad beside her bed.
Fuck me. Look at me being so domesticated.
I used her bathroom, stripped off my boots and cut, and lay down on the covers beside her. Maybe we weren’t having the night together that I imagined when we came through her front door, but at least I could watch over her and make sure she didn’t fall out of bed or something.
Jamie
Pain. That’s the first thing that hit me when I woke up. Pain. Then nausea, then pain again. My head throbbed, and I felt achy, like I’d been training or something. My eyes popped open as the third thing occurred to me. Soft snoring, and the warmth of a presence beside me. Like close beside me.
Grease looked so peaceful as he slept, but what the fuck was he doing in my bed?
What the hell happened last night? I was frozen in place for long terrifying moments, not because I was afraid of him, but because my memory was sketchy, and I didn’t know why he was here with me.
When did I even give him my address, because how else would he even be here?
I moved my arm, and hissed with pain as I pressed against a bruise or something, and Grease’s eyes popped open, and he groaned.
“Jesus, woman, you can’t even wake up quietly, can you?” He was grinning as he spoke, but as I lifted my arm to check why it was hurting so much, he cursed and sat up, easing me up to sit on the bed, and that’s when I saw the blood on the covers.
“Oh god!”
He was checking my arm, and his touch was so gentle that it was almost impossible to believe it was the same guy who’d manhandled me, and fucked me that night.
His warm fingers were gliding gently over my skin, and then he was pressing lightly around my elbow and I cursed, trying to pull away from him.
“Sorry, babe, I didn’t see you were hurt last night. Did nobody fucking check you over when you arrested that cunt?”
I gasped, but whether it was from his comments, my lack of memory of even arresting someone, or the jarring use of the word beginning with C, I had no idea.
“What? Um… Grease?”
He was getting up from the bed, as I realised that he’d slept fully dressed on the top of the covers, rather than in the bed with me, while I seemed to be completely naked. Why was I naked?
He paused, staring at me with his eyebrows up, I guess waiting for me to speak, but I was so confused.
“I-”
“First things first, little pain. Where’s your first aid kit? You must have one, right? Organised kinda lady you are?” I told him, and he nodded.
“There are painkillers and water beside you. Why don’t you take some while I fetch it. I’ll get you patched up.”
I watched him leave the room, and not to check out his ass, although that was a bonus that I truly needed right now. Why was he here? Why was he being so sweet, and looking after me? And why was I injured? How the hell much did I even drink last night?
When he returned, I was still sitting in the same position, clutching my upper arm and staring into space.
“Jesus, did I have to say please? It’s not like I ordered you to do it.
” Grease set the kit down, walked around the bed, and picked up the pills, popping two out and passing them to me, before he passed me the water.
On autopilot, I just took them, and swallowed down about half of the water, before I handed the glass back.
“So how much do you remember, little pain?” He sat beside me, and gently lifted my arm to look at the injury again, before he carefully manipulated the joint back and forth. “Feel okay?”
I nodded, even though I winced when the skin stretched.
“I think it got grazed against that wall when he attacked you, babe. Do you remember the blonde asshole from the bar?” Oh damn. That sounded oddly familiar.
“The one who groped me?”
Grease nodded, using an antiseptic wipe to clean blood away from the graze, wincing when I hissed through my teeth as it burned and stung.
“Sorry. Yeah, that cunt. Tried to fucking rape you outside the place, but you showed him.”
Wait. It was coming back to me now, and he was lying.
“You mean you did. Oh god. He was too strong for me. You saved me!”
Grease kept his focus on cleaning up the mass of stinging pain on my elbow.
“It’s just grazed, but it’ll hurt a while yet.” He was already patching it up, like it wasn’t a big deal to clean up blood and patch up injuries. He’d done this before, hadn’t he? Was it a biker thing?
“Thanks,” I whispered, feeling a lump in my throat as emotion started to overwhelm me. I was almost raped last night. I might have been, if Grease hadn’t stepped in.
Tears started burning my eyes, and I blinked fast, trying to hide how embarrassingly girly I was about to be.
“Aw babe, it’s okay,” Grease murmured, lifting my chin, and gently brushing a lone tear aside as it escaped, “he never touched you, I promise. You were already handing him his ass when I found you.”
I swallowed hard, feeling more tears escape, and I squeezed my eyes closed, so I wouldn’t see the concern on his face. When he was mouthy and snarky, he was hot enough, but sweet and worried about me? That’d break down any remaining defences I had.
“I wasn’t winning against him. He was overpowering me. If… if you hadn’t…”
Grease lifted me into his lap, holding me against his chest as I cried, running his fingers lightly through my short hair as he did.