Page 68 of Hidden But Not Safe

His black shirt hid the color but was still sticky with blood, and sporting a bullet hole. He left it off as he made his way back to the garage.

Meg writhed on the concrete floor. Her eyes were shut, and she hadn’t heard him return, not over the whining sounds she made in her throat.

Her hand was in her shorts, working between her legs. She cried out, the movement there stilling as she came. Her body relaxed as some but not all the tension left her.

Naz’s pants felt too tight, like they were strangling him. He didn’t look down at himself.

No, he watched Meg’s eyes open, the small smile on her lips.

“That’s a little better,” she said, “but I’m still so fucking horny. How long will this shit last?”

Naz wasn’t even sure what they’d given her. Guilt slid over him again. He should have stepped in before she swallowed the pill.

He offered a hand to help Meg up.

She pulled hers out of her shorts. “I can go in?” she asked.

He nodded.

She grabbed his hand with the one she’d used to get herself off. There was a dampness to the fingers that slid over his skin.

His nostrils flared as he tugged her to her feet. A slightly musky scent took over his senses. He didn’t hate it.

And his dick was hard.

Naz turned away, trying not to panic. It was only him and Meg there, and it was only a semi. He hoped Meg wouldn’t notice. The voices in his head remained quiet, exhausted from all their activity already that day.

He remembered the way Meg had limped when she faltered behind him. Thinking about his dick did him no good. He turned to lift her, but she stopped him with her hands on his arms.

“No, Ignacio,” she scolded. With her tone, a piece of his childhood lurked at the edges of his memory, not quite coming into focus. “You were shot! My ankle isn’t that bad. I could use a shower, though.”

He led her to the bathroom with the medical supplies. Her knees weren’t too bad, but the supplies included Neosporin to rub on them after she was clean.

Meg stripped off her flannel first. The shadow on her forearm hinted at the bruise to come. She wasn’t looking at it, though. She held the flannel in front of her, her eyes skimming over each bloodstain.

Naz was responsible for putting them there. He’d wrapped her up so tight when he’d heard her crying, not thinking about the blood he’d get on her.

“Shit, we left my backpack behind.” Meg sighed as she dropped the flannel. “I’ll miss that damn shirt.”

He knew she wasn’t talking about the flannel.

Her eyes moved to his, and she forced a smile. “Think this house has anything I could wear?”

Naz left her in the bathroom to scrounge around. The drawers in the main bedroom had some things, mainly the ugliest old man clothes he’d ever seen. Pastel, ball-lifting shorts of various colors and polo shirts to match, with tighty-whities in case his balls weren’t encased enough by the tight shorts. His dick became limp again looking through the clothes, which was a relief.

There was some granny underwear in one drawer, but no other women’s clothing. The closet had some loose dresses in different flower patterns, but Naz left them alone. Meg hated dresses. He’d give her one of the polo shirts first.

Checking out the spare rooms, he found a closed box in a closet with clothes that looked like they’d fit Meg better, but there was still no underwear. He grabbed a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt with a smiley-faced flower on it. He’d show her where it was once she wasn’t high.

After setting the clothes on the bed, he listened to the shower run, but he didn’t hear anything over it. Nothing to hint that she was crying.

Naz grabbed the grandpa clothes and went to the hallway bathroom to clean up.

He did his best to keep his bandaged side out of the water. His head rasped a little when he washed it, but shaving wasn’t on the agenda, not at the moment. It took soaping up three times before the water ran clear. When he realized he was trying to scrub off bruises, he stopped.

Naz stood dripping in the shower for a while, his hand on the wall. He stared down at his limp dick. If he stared at it long enough, maybe he’d understand what made it tick. All he knew for sure was that watching Meg orgasm affected it.

He should stay away from her until she wasn’t high anymore.

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