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Chapter 5
God, Story! What the hell are you doing?
This night has been a series of bad decisions. From the second I walked into that bar to meet Bud, I knew it wasn’t meant to be. That he wasn’t meant to be. But I stayed anyway.
Leave it to me to believe I can fix a man with nothing but a creamy kitty and the willingness to do just about anything.
Well, that and the help of my trusty toy collection. The very collection that got me into my current predicament.
I internally facepalm.
If it were that easy, I’d already be married with five or six kids. I’d have the man of my dreams, warming my bed, caring for our family, and stuffing my channel with his milky delight every night. Against my will, my thighs clench at the thought. The second they do, I cry out as pain, sharp and red-hot, spears through me.
“Story?” A cotton-candied voice calls out, soothing me with its sugary sweetness.
Shit, why does he have that effect on me?
I blink slowly at Fred, confused about my body’s reaction to him. From the second I spotted his pretty blue eyes framed by transparent lashes, thin brows, and pale, bald head, I was internally melting. My pink petals hardened to diamonds, my plunder dungeon grew creamy, and my heart skipped a beat. Every part of me lit up, including my soul. I feel like I know him on a cellular level.
Biting my lip, I let my gaze slide down his body, taking in all his lovely curves and edges. He’s taller than I am, but not by much, maybe three or four inches. His body is wide and thick in every yummy place, busting out of his too-tight EMT uniform. Though his shoulders are broad and his biceps are bulging, the rest of him is soft and thick.
A part of me that I keep hidden from the world, Lyric included, wants to break out and dive onto his lap, begging him for a hug. I bet he gives the best hugs. And cuddles.
Fuck. I bet his cuddles are to die for.
I want that.
“Story, are you okay? You look woozy and your eyes are tearing up. Where does it hurt, bed bug?”
“Bed bug?” the other EMT snaps as he runs an agitated hand through his too-lush hair. “What the hell is going on here? Do you two know each other or something?”
No, Fred and I don’t know each other, but the happy little wormies in my belly are screaming that we should definitely get to know Freddie.
On a carnal level, the brain-worms whisper to the stomach-worms.
I think I’m too broken to get carnal right now, guys,I mentally chastise.
In fact, as pain races through my ass and up my spine, I realize I might be more than decommissioned. I think I might be dying. A pathetic whimper escapes me to the effect. I’m too young and pretty to die!
“Alright, you’re done here.” Fred grunts as he bends down, picking up a medical bag. “You heard the woman, Stan. She doesn’t want you touching her, and I can’t help her with you buzzing around like an annoying gnat, so scat!!”
“You can’t boss me around, Bates!” Stan wheedles, making me jump. “I’m your superior here.”
Freddie growls, the sound low and dangerous, sending sparkles through me. He steps forward, chest bumping his partner. Oh no! This isn’t going to go well, and I refuse to be naked and on my back, while two men fight just inches from me. I’m already suffering from a near-death situation. There’s no way I’ll survive a mass bloodshed in my delicate state.
I untangle myself from my scratchy sheet nest, cursing out Bud, my date from Satan. My eyes never leave the posturing men as I wrap the sheet around my chest, toga-style, so my arms are free—just in case. Every inch I move sends shards of icy pain through my system, but as the men face off with words too low for me to hear, I force myself to work through the pain.
I don’t want them to fight. Not here in this creepy house from hades.
Why are they even fighting?
Because you’re being difficult, Story. You’re always too difficult, too crazy, too much.
It’s why no one sticks around.
I shove the ugly thoughts away. I’m too close to the edge, too close to breaking. I can’t let the ugly in now. The only thing I want to do is have this thing, this foreign object, removed from my body before I bleed out so I can go home and cuddle up in my squish pile, forgetting today ever happened.
Just as I’ve gingerly reached the edge of the bed, Stan reaches out, shoving Freddie. My mouth drops open in shock. Indignation overpowers my pain.
