Chapter 4
EMILIO
It’s the fucking beeping. Right in my ear. Like a mosquito that crawled inside my skull and it refuses to die. I crack my eyes open to slap the shit out of whatever alarm Mas put beside my head. I’m not in my bed. Not in my apartment. I’m in a fucking hospital.
There’s shit taped to me. Tubes sticking out. My leg’s wrapped up and hanging from a swing like a busted pinata. My arm’s hooked to an IV bag full of something. Bandages all over. I smell like sweat, piss, and blood.
Mas is knocked out in the world’s smallest chair.
Looking like death. Ragged-ass hair. Purple bags under his eyes.
Mouth hanging open, like he’s trying to catch flies.
Old basketball shorts from high school stretched so tight across his thighs they’re one wrong move from splitting.
One foot in a slide, the other bare on the white linoleum floor.
“What the fuck happened to me?”
My voice is all gravel. My tongue feels like sandpaper. The beeping won’t quit. I swat at it. Then the door flies open, and this woman bursts like I’m doing bad shit.
“?Voy entrando!”
I tilt my head.
Holy shit.
She’s curvy as fuck. Tight scrubs that swish when she walks. Big ass that should be illegal. Thick thighs that could crush a man’s skull in the best fucking way possible. Small tits with a pen stuck between the V of her shirt. Curly hair up in a messy bun with another pen stabbed through it.
She has fucking DSLs.
Dick sucking lips.
Thick and smeared in some glossy shit. Her face is round. Chubby cheeks and long ass eyelashes. Giant gold hoops hang from her earlobes.
“Damn, you’re hot as fuck. Are you my nurse? Give me mouth-to-mouth. Sit on my brother’s face while doing it.”
She freezes just long enough to give me a look like she’s deciding between laughing and stabbing me with one of her pens. “We already talked yesterday, remember?”
“No way. I’d remember if those lips opened. And I’d have written poetry about that ass. Turn around.”
“Ay, behave.”
Shit.
Thick ass accent to go with her thick thighs and ass.
She’s fucking perfect, even if she’s ignoring me.
Coming right to the machine and pressing buttons until the beeping dies.
The relief is so instant, I could fuck her on the floor of this place.
Then she’s swapping plastic bags on the pole, moving like she’s done it a million times.
“You need to think before you speak. You say inappropriate stuff.”
Her comment falls over me like fairy dust. I’ve been told that before, but I don’t fucking care. My mouth gets me pussy and fat asses. Hopefully, hers next.
“Probably the pain meds if you don’t remember a thing. You called me a thick snack, asked if I could give you a sponge bath, forget the sponge, and use my tongue, then fell asleep mid-sentence,” she continues when I don’t answer.
“That sounds like me.”
I grin. Eyes shamelessly glued to the curve of her hips as she leans over to check my IV. Her small tits are smashed together. The view from down her shirt is perfect.
“I guess it didn’t work. I smell like shit.”
Her eyes lock with mine. Long enough to see my soul in them.
“You’ll get a bath soon enough, Nene.”
Nene.
She nicknamed me. I feel special. Happy to watch her do her thing.
“Wash my cock and balls good, they’ll need to be clean for you and that ass.”
She exhales through her nose. Mutters something in Spanish I don’t catch and keeps working. I don’t miss the corner of her mouth curving upward. Yeah, I got this Latina. She’s mine and Massi’s now.
I look from her to him. He’s awake, watching us.
“’Sup, bro. You look like dog shit.”
He sits up, clears his throat. Looking too damn serious.
“Ay carajo!” She pops me on my wrist. I jump, rub the sting, and look at her. “Stop being mean to your brother. He’s been worried for you. Sits in that chair for hours like a zombie.”
I look from her to him again. A smirk cracks his face, but not in his eyes. They are still glued to me. Worried.
“How long have I been out?”
Mas frowns and then looks at her. I do the same.
“You’ve been awake here and there, but the medication makes you not remember.”
She raises her voice, like I’m deaf. Her face is now inches from mine as she pulls on my eyelid and flashes a light across it. It’s too fucking bright.
I rip my head away. She just follows. Grabs my jaw and holds my face in place like I belong to her. Those DSLs are inches from mine. I’d lean forward and kiss her if I thought I could get away with it.
“Hold still, Nene.”
Her breath warms my lower face, and my cock jumps to life. Thank fuck it’s not broken like everything else of mine seems to be. She flashes that fucking pen thing. I wrestle in her grip.
“Pupils are good. Concussion is gone. You are conscious enough to be a problem.”
“If I’m the problem,” I say, eyes on her mouth. “You’re the reason.”
Her lashes lower for a second. As if my flirting is working. She clicks the light off and slides it into her pocket. Her knuckles graze my stubble. Electricity crawls down my skin and sets up camp at the base of my balls.
“Pain from one to ten.”
I let my grin climb slowly.
“Ten when you walk away. Four when you touch me. Zero if you sit on me.”
A soft snort, the hint of a smile she tries to kill.
“I take that as no pain.” She lifts a cup and angles the straw at my mouth. “Small sips. No hero moves.”
I take it slow, throat working on purpose. Her eyes drop to my mouth and stay. I lick the last drop and watch her inhale.
“Good boy.”
Her condescending praise slides over me. Like warm fucking brownies with cold milk. I want her to say that while I fuck her hard from underneath. Shove my cock up that pussy so hard, she cusses in Spanish.
“Do you remember what happened, Em?” Mas asks, his voice as bad as mine. He shifts in his chair. Gaze bounces between my face and her ass. Can’t blame him. She’s hot. That bossy sass and accent do things to me.
“I fell asleep, and then you were gone and . . .” he scrapes out what he can. Leaves the rest in the air. He’s wrecked and wired.
She stands beside the bed, looking at the machines around me.
“Papito, the doctors already told you. Why are you asking your brother?”
Papito.
She has a nickname for him too. Good. She can call us that when sandwiched between us. But Mas doesn’t seem to see what I see. His hand dives through his hair. Adding to the mess it already is. He looks even worse than before asking.
“As I told your twin over there, I got you here. He has you at home. And as he can see by your inappropriate comments, I’m doing a good job.”
I tip my chin toward her, shameless.
“Not good enough. You haven’t told me your name or where you’re from. Where do you get that sexy accent, or whose mom I can thank for that fat ass?”
My hand drifts toward the tape at my ribs, suddenly hurting or itching. I don’t know which. She grabs my hand and holds it in hers. I’m in love.
“Marry me.”
She ignores me. “Touch that again, and I’ll put restraints on you.”
“Kinky. Do you have pink furry ones?”
Mas leans in, the warning in his voice scraped raw. “Em, I’m serious. Do you remember anything?”
She releases my hand. My head hurts from carrying on two conversations at once. I drag my eyes from her curvy hips and meet his stare. He looks like he’s hanging on for dear life.
“I remember an angel.” My chin tips toward her. “She said I was her favorite patient and she was going to take me home and tuck me in with her thighs.”
Her face does not move. Her eyes do.
“Keep that up, and you won’t be getting any more pain meds.”
No idea what pain meds have to do with anything. But I answer my poor bro.
“I just swerved, Mas. Didn’t want to hit this dog that ran into the road. Saw a flash of blue. A civic or something, and then whamo bamo. Staring at the sky, thinking, that shit sucks.”
He doesn’t respond. She does.
“You swerved to save un cachorrito?”
No idea what she said, but her face softens. She pats my arm. Her touch burns into my memory.
“Good boy.”
More praise slides into my balls. Liking how this feels. I want to do everything she says if it gets her touching me more.
“Now we do breathing exercises. The ribs hate it. But you do it anyway. Three times a day until you get released.”
She grabs some plastic thing with a hose on it. Reminds me of a beer bong.
“I got this. I’ll make hospital beer bong my bitch.”
She shakes her head. Mas sits back in his chair, chewing on something in his mind. His face is pulled tight. He only does that when concentrating at the gym or worrying about something. I’ll ask him later.
She holds the hose up to my lips. I stick my tongue out and lick it like a lollipop. Giving her a preview of how good I lick yogurt lids. Her pussy is the next thing I lick.
“Stop that.” She moves it away. Glares at me. My cock is fully hard. Visions of suffocating between her thick thighs are enough to make me listen. “Breath in for four and out for six. We do it five times. Then a break. You work out, so you know we do five reps, three sets a day.”
She notices I work out. Perfect. I’ll work her out, too. It’s been a while since I had a cardio bunny. But by the looks of her small waist and fat ass, she lifts weights. Heavy ones.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Ay,” she mutters, then places the hose back at my lips.
I focus on her DSLs while she counts. I pull air slowly, push it slower. Pain bites, releases, bites again. Her palm rests on my chest. Her eyes shift between me and the machine near me.
It sucks, but watching her makes it okay. Like a trainer, she takes me through my one set. Pats my chest when I’m done and tells me I’m a good boy again. I could get used to this. Before I can ask my next question, the door flies open.
Hollister and Dom.
Both look bruised and banged up.
Were they in accidents like me?
Mas jumps to his feet. Stalks toward them like something’s up or wrong. The hot nurse looks both up and down, then returns her focus to me.
“Remember, three times a day, Nene.”