Page 99 of Leashed

“Nothing you haven’t already seen,” he teased, the coarseness of his voice amplified by a heavy breathing sounding more labored than sexed-up. “But that…” he murmured, “that’s definitely something I never thought I’d see. Or get really turned on by.”

Something twitched in her fingers and she looked down at the leash still tangled in her hand. “Oh! Oh, I’m so sor—”

“Uh, could you maybe not let go of it for a second?” Her eyes snapped up to him and he licked his lips, tossing his blanket over his lap to accommodate her modesty. “Maybe take a step closer and wrap it around your wrist?”

What?

Oh.

OH.

She glanced back at the door and nudged it closed before she did as he asked, grateful he’d covered up because she was very, very vanilla.

And Bo was very, very not.

In the faint light, she could see him lick his lips again, his eyes on her hand. “Where’s the ring?”

She took another small step closer, wrapping the leash twice around her wrist to keep it taut, a strange thrill coursing through her when he let loose a low, animalistic sound. “Probably being appraised and pieced off. Where were you?”

Her mind picked up voices coming from the hall, tossing them aside when Bo’s breath hitched.

In the darkness, she struggled to see him clearly. But she knew he continued to watch her, his gaze locked on her hand as he cleared his throat. “Visiting relatives. What about buddy-boy?”

Another step, another flick of her wrist. “I was wrong. He wasn’t my soul mate.”

He inhaled sharply when she accidentally tugged the leash a little tighter than she intended. His head lolled back for a moment before he pushed himself up onto his hands, snarled, and thumped down to his elbows.

Game forgotten, she dropped the leash and rushed to him, placing her hand on his bare chest as he squeezed his eyes shut and muttered under his breath. “This is ridiculous,” she huffed. “We’re getting that hand looked at. Now.”

“Screw that,” he groaned, wrapping his good arm around her and pulling her down on top of him. “I can do this with one hand tied behind my back.”

Truth be told, she wasn’t fighting him too hard when she tried to be responsible and push away from him, her lips traveling over his throat and earning a thigh-clenching growl in response.

A growl apparently loud enough to draw the attention of Dio, who managed to slam the door open and flick the lights on in a simultaneous assault on the senses. “What’s going on in here, boy?”

She buried her head into the crook of his neck as Bo moaned and flattened out on his back. “Go. The hell. Away.”

She could hear Dio approach them, and she winced like a guilty teenager caught in the act as she burrowed further into the mattress. “No way, boy,” the god bellowed. “You’re in no position to do what you think you’re about to do. Come on. Ryan and I picked up what we need to get you fixed up.”

Bo’s arm tightened around her for a moment before it relaxed. “Goddammit, Dio, I’m fine.”

“And one minute away from shifting back to hound form to counter the lagging healing rate of those injuries, so let’s get this show on the road.”

Shimmying from his loose hold, she blinked her eyes into focus and looked down at him, her hand flying to her mouth as she raked her gaze over his arms and torso. “Oh god,” she gasped, unable to look away from the carnage. “What happened to you?”

Shallow cuts and deep gouges pierced dark purple bruises covering most of his body and arms. Three fingers on his right hand were slightly off in both shape and color, his exposed palm sporting a jagged gash rivaling the ones on his shoulders and ribs, the tattoo on his chest barely visible amid the slashes across his skin.

He fought to rise back up onto his elbows as she slid off him to the floor, scanning his exposed legs and feet. One foot was almost entirely black from a bruise extending up his ankle to the lacerations scouring his calf. Deeper slices marred him, one several inches long and disappearing up the back of his thigh.

“This view isn’t making a very compelling argument for me to go with you, Dio.”

She looked up at Bo in alarm, her eyes narrowing when he glanced at his covered hips and looked back down at her, biting his lip as his eyes burned into her position between his legs. “Don’t even think of it,” she rasped, rising to her feet and wrapping her arms around herself. “My god, Bo. Why didn’t you say something?”

The other man with the short blond hair strode past her and moved to help Bo up, raising his hands in surrender when he was met with a snarl. He turned to her with a smile. “Ryan.”

The older brother.

She extended her hand on instinct, shaking his as she watched Bo groggily get to his feet, holding the blanket around his waist while he limped to his dresser and pulled out a pair of shorts. “Sage. Nice to meet you.” She blinked as she saw the gashes on Bo’s back, two of them reopening when he fought the shorts on under the blanket. Her heart clenched. “He’s bleeding.”

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