Page 13 of Saved By Two

Her good eye flutters open, but it’s vacant, her pupil dilated as she stares at me. The other is still swollen shut, and I clench my jaw. Noah rubs up and down her arm as I rock her gently back and forth.

Her face is flushed, sweat coating her skin.

Noah goes to the bathroom, returning with a damp flannel, and presses it to her forehead.

A small whimper escapes her, and if she weren’t in my arms, I would be punching a wall right about now.

“Jessica, can you hear me?” Noah asks as he gently brushes the damp hair away from her cheek before he cups it in his palm. “Jessica?”

She doesn’t say a word.

“Should we call Mitchell?” I glide my fingers up and down her arm, hoping it will coax her awake.

Noah shakes his head. “She’s been through a traumatic experience. Let’s get through tonight and see how she is in the morning.”

Her eye drifts closed, but her breathing is still heavy, and I worry about leaving her alone.

“Do you think one of us should stay with her in case she wakes up again?” I ask Noah. I move out from under her as gently as possible and lay her back on the bed. She tries to curl into a ball but lets out a hiss of pain, her pupil moving behind her closed eyelid.

“Yeah, I can stay with her,” he replies. I’m torn between offering as well, but I’ve always been more intimidating than Noah, so he’s probably the best choice.

“You sure?”

He reaches for my hand and squeezes it. “Yeah, you know I’ll only check on her every ten minutes, even if you’re with her.”

I nod in response, knowing he’s right, but I doubt very much that I’ll be sleeping tonight. I want to send a few emails to reach out and see what I can find out about this arsehole boyfriend. There is no way in hell he’s getting away with this.

“Okay, I will reach out to some of my contacts. And you’re right; if anyone can help us track down her brother, it's Elliot.”

He musters a smile and leans in for a quick kiss, but I don’t let him pull back. I grab the back of his neck, taking control. He moans, and I swear if we weren’t currently leaning over Jessica, I would have him bent over this bed, fucking him into oblivion.

I try not to let my mind wander about how I wouldn’t be against the idea of Jessica watching. I groan and nip his lip hard, but not enough to break the skin before drawing back.

“Hold that thought,” he says, his pupils blown wide, his nostrils flaring slightly.

Glancing down, I see his erection is prominent in his joggers. He shifts himself and the head peeks out of his waistband. He doesn’t wear underwear when we’re in the house, and I love having easy access.

I force my eyes closed, willing back the urge to take him in my mouth and rectify that before leaving him for the night.

“Do you want me to take care of you before I leave?” I ask, unable to stop myself, but as soon as the words pass my lips, I feel guilty for voicing it out loud.

He raises an eyebrow, and I hold up my palm. “Yeah, I already know, it was an arsehole thing to say.”

Jessica stirs and lets out another whimper.

“Problem solved,” he says, his eyes glancing down to his now flaccid dick. “But for the record, you’re my arsehole, and I love you for it.”

Even now, he’s trying to make me feel better.

“Yeah, but still, it wasn’t my proudest moment. And so you know, I love you, too.”

And I do. He’s the only person I have ever said it to outside my family and chosen family. For a long time, I thought I was incapable of love—honest, all-consuming love—but I was wrong, so fucking wrong.

Of course, when we met, I was the biggest prick to him. My way of protecting myself, I guess. Everything about him drew me in; insta-lust quickly turned to love. And to say I wasn’t fucking ready was an understatement.

But I knew after we slept together the first time there was no way I would be able to fuck him out of my heart or soul.

We’ve had our fair share of hook-ups with women and men, but always together, never apart.

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