Page 75 of High Density

“Janey,” I caution her, grabbing onto her wrist. “You’re injured.”

“Hush,” she mumbles with her lips pressed against my shoulder blade. “Put your hand back up on the wall, honey. I’ve got you.”

She feels amazing, her full breasts plastered against my back, her lush hips rocking into mine, and her hands administering the most beautiful torture. With one strong hand stroking my length, she uses the other to cup and play with my balls while firmly rubbing my taint with the pad of a finger.

I rest my forehead against the tile, my mouth falling open as she plays me like a fine-tuned instrument. My soft pants are drowned out by the constant rush of the shower, until the tip of her finger slides precariously close to that tight sphincter muscle before pressing inside.

I erupt like fucking Vesuvius, coming in long strands that hit the wall and are washed down the drain with the water. She milks me dry, until my legs are shaking with the strain of staying upright. Then she wraps me firmly in her arms, keeping me standing until I can catch my breath.

My body is like gelatin, without real substance; every muscle completely relaxed.

“We take care of each other,” she softly reminds me before stepping out of the shower.

She doesn’t give me a chance to reciprocate.

I guess she’s made her point.

Janey

I’msurprised how normal everything looks when I walk over to the clinic.

I’d asked JD to drop me off at my place this morning when he was heading out to High Meadow. I think my point in the shower this morning was well-taken, since he didn’t launch an objection when I told him I needed to get back to the clinic.

Yesterday, Stephanie had mentioned her team would be packing up and moving out last night. They were transporting their prisoners back to Kalispell, but she indicated she’d be in touch.

“Feel good to be home, girl?” I mutter at Ginger, who walks beside me.

We make quite a pair, hobbling to the barn.

I feel much better today, the pain in my leg is more of an ache now, even without the meds I ditched yesterday, and my face just feels a little tight, even though it still looks pretty horrible. Evidence of that is the shocked look on Frankie’s face when I walk into the clinic.

“Oh my God! Dale told me you’d gotten hurt, but I thought it was your leg. Your poor face.”

Dale would be Deputy Bastian. I don’t recall seeing him here on Friday night or yesterday at JD’s place, but either way, I’m not surprised she heard. Libby is a small community, and there isn’t much that stays secret for long.

“Looks worse than it is,” I reassure her. “Once the bruising and swelling is down, you’ll barely be able to tell.”

At least I hope so. I’m not particularly vain, but I’d rather not have a gnarly zipper on my face.

“I’m surprised you’re here at all,” Frankie admits. “I was about to start calling a few appointments I shifted from last week to this week. Are you sure you’re able to work?”

“Absolutely. I’ll take it easy if I need to, but I can’t afford to let things go. Besides, Logan should be in to help with clinic hours this afternoon. I can let him do some of the work; if I need a break.

“What do I have going on this morning?” I ask, glancing at the appointment schedule she has up on her computer screen.

“Sandra Bowen is coming in with Gremlin for his teeth scaling, you have a follow-up appointment to see Daisy, and we rescheduled that surgery on Chet Weinstein’s donkey to ten this morning.”

Right, Gremlin, the snarling Chihuahua with serious periodontal issues, the sweet potbelly pig with pneumonia, and the miniature donkey with a large but benign tumor on his neck requiring removal since he keeps rubbing it open.

I’ll have my hands full this morning, but first I want to pop into the barn. Jackson assured me the horses were fine when I walked into the house this morning, but I want to check on them myself.

Red sticks his head over the stall door, curious to see who just walked in. I’m surprised he allows me to rub his nose without withdrawing. I’m guessing he’s becoming accustomed to his surroundings and starting to feel safe. I hope JD is still up for helping me rehabilitate this horse, because if this little nose rub is any indication, I think I’m going to love seeing Red’s personality in full bloom.

But first I’m going to need to get the fencing around that field in the back fixed. It’s not healthy for him to be cooped up in the barn all day. Half of the damn fence boards are either broken or hanging off the posts, and some of those are busted too. I’d get a start on it myself, but I’m not exactly in prime condition at the moment. Maybe Logan is interested in making some extra money, otherwise I’m going to have to call around to see who is available to help. I’m pretty sure JD would offer, but he already took days off last week for me, and in the evenings I’m selfish enough to want him spending time with me instead of out in the field.

When I move down the barn to the farthest stall, I’m hit with a flashback. The sound of the shot that hit me Friday night still echoes in my ears and, for a moment, the fear I felt is as real now as it was then. I force myself forward and into the present, taking those last few steps to look in on the barrel horse. She’s a bit more cautious, staying out of reach in the stall, but when I open the door to check on her stitches, curiosity wins, and she nudges the pockets on my jeans.

“Looking for treats, girl? I’ll remember that for next time.”

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