Page 82 of Bad Boy
“I need you,” he repeats.
I hear his words. But they don’t sink in.
He reaches out and places his other hand over my heart.
“I fuckingneedyou, Lincoln Anderson,” he whispers passionately, never taking his eyes from mine.
Remi’s heartfelt words cut through the panic in my mind like a knife. Slicing away my worry and replacing it with calm.
“Y-you need me?” I ask through wet, snotty sniffles, certain that I couldn’t possibly hear him right.
“Yes, Lincoln. Probably more than you need me. Like I said at dinner, you’re the best fucking thing that’s happened to me in a long time. Probably ever.” His dark eyes shine with undeniable, irrefutable truth.
“Now, please, let me take care of you. I fuckinghateseeing you hurt like this, Preppy. Once was too much. Twice is hell. A third time might kill me, so please be careful with yourself. You’re important to me.”
Remi helps me up from the floor, and I move on autopilot. Dizzy from his words, I add them to the jumble of thoughts spinning around in my mind. To say I’m overwhelmed is an understatement.
We move to the sink, and he places my hand under the slow stream. I watch as the water rinses the blood away, revealing two small gashes along my red knuckles and already bruising flesh.
I barely react.
His brows draw together, probably remembering how much of a baby I was over a few scratches last week. I close my eyes tightly, compartmentalizing the stinging pain and everything else until I’m left numb again.
Unfeeling.
“Things could have gone a lot worse here, Preppy. You could have broken your hand or gotten glass stuck under your skin.”
Opening my eyes, I glance down at the white bandage wrapped around my hand and the bag of ice perched on top. I blink rapidly, clearing some of the fog from my mind.
Huh? When did that happen?
I’m sitting on the bathroom counter in my tiny purple briefs and tall white socks. Remi stands in front of me, thick arms folded tightly across his chest as he stares at me with a deep frown and concerned eyes.
“Are you back with me now? I was worried there for a minute. You completely checked out.”
“Y-yes. Sorry I’m such a mess,” I apologize, lowering my eyes to my lap, embarrassed at everything that happened tonight as the shock of it all starts to wear off.
“Hey. You are not a mess. Don’t ever apologize for your emotions. And don’t ever feel like you need to hide them from me.” He steps between my spread thighs. Rough palms cup my cheeks, lifting my gaze. “You are one of the strongest, most resilient people I’ve ever known. All the shit you’ve been through since I met you is more than anyone should have to handle.”
He leans in and presses a tender, barely-there kiss to my lips. “You’re incredible, Lincoln.”
Another kiss. This time to my cheek. “Strong.”
My other cheek. “Honorable.”
My forehead. “Intelligent.”
Both eyes. “Unique.”
And back to my lips. “Undeniable.”
I whimper at his soft words. My cock fills until it’s tenting my briefs, attempting to free itself.
It feels like we’ve come full circle, back to the first time in my bathroom when he cleaned my wounds and healed some of my heart and soul on the first day of school. And here he is doing it again, not even two weeks later.
“Y-you really mean all that?”
“I never say shit I don’t mean. You know that.”
