Page 21 of King of Obsession

I laid him on the only bed, mine, and rolled him into one end.

He blacked out once more, eyes rolling to the back of his head, lids shutting down.

I tucked a towel under his injured joint, which I’d treated with a clean compress from his car’s emergency kit at the site of origin.

I shucked his boots and turned to my first aid supplies, using them to sanitize and sew up his wound. It was a pure through and through the upper shoulder, he’d live.

It also wasn’t bleeding, so I wrapped, looped, and pinned a compression bandage on top of the wounded deltoid.

He remained knocked out right through it.

As a precaution, I ran my hands over him, checking for any other injuries. That’s when I found the generous bump at the back of his head.

He must have hit something when he fell after being gunned down.

There was no broken skin, thank fuck, so I positioned a dressing on it to cushion it and jammed a painkiller injection into his thigh.

He didn’t react, not even a grunt, still out cold.

Tugging off his boots, I adjusted and placed a duvet and blanket over him.

He settled, no, he fuckin’ snuggled in, his free arm flung above his head, socked feet splayed on my hella clean sheets.

His tresses spread on my pillow, and I fought the urge to run my fingers through them.

His tee slid out of his jeans, showing off his designer underwear and, peeking from it, dark golden hair coiling toward his groin.

Damn, I had to admit he was freakin’ hot—a dreamy thirst trap.

My clit pulsed in a stir that I’d not been detected in years.

Fuck me.

I cursed under my breath.

I could not afford any Stockholm Syndrome shit.

Besides, it’d be a fantasy to think he’d ever want me.

Life had taught me I was not important enough to be wanted by anyone.

I’d never been anything but a play-toy to men and to thosewho wielded power over me.

Love, sex, and passion were not mine to have.

The only tendril of life I held onto was the revenge I intended on the man who’d stripped away any chance at everyday life.

This new conundrum in my bed was only a distraction I had to eliminate: body, soul, and mind.

ALESSIO

I jolted awake, my breath catching in my throat.

With a groan, I attempted to sit up but was cut down by a rush of agony emanating from my shoulder.

I fell back, heaving with pain, almost to the point of throwing up.

I closed my eyes and took deep breaths until the discomfort subsided.

---