Page 72 of Riot's Thorn
“Really? He owns that place?” she asks.
“You’ve heard of Dope?”
“Yeah, I’ve been there with friends.”
“He probably has a strain to ease joint and muscle pain.”
“Uh, no. That’s stupid. I’ll be fine. Just keep your dick away from my mouth for the rest of the day.” She sits up, gloriously naked, her breasts swaying as she pulls her morning hair up into a messy bun, using a hair tie she had on her wrist.
“Fuck.” I pinch a pert nipple, suddenly wanting to use her tit as my own pacifier.
She slaps my hand. “Your babies need attention.”
“They’re not babies. Technically, they’re senior citizens.”
“I just meant—never mind. I need to use the bathroom.” She climbs out of bed, and because she has the most perfect body to ever exist, I gawk. That’s when I see a dark purple and black bruise covering her hip. I’m up and out of bed, at her side in a heartbeat.
“What the fuck?”
She glances down. “Oh, yeah. I figured there’d be a bruise after you tackled me in the desert. Thanks for that, by the way.”
“I did that?” I hold her at arm’s length and scan the rest of her, finding scrapes and bruises on her legs, elbows, and hands. “Fuck.”
“It’s not a big deal,” she says, brushing me away.
“It is. I hurt you.”
“I remember you saying something about me needing to be punished yesterday. Now, all of a sudden, you’re worried about injuries?” She leaves for the bathroom, and I follow, causing her to huff. “I need a minute of privacy.”
“That’s not the kind of punishment I was talking about.”
“Listen, you had to stop me. I was running through the desert with no destination, completely out of my mind. I don’t blame you. Besides, you protected my head and took the brunt of the fall. Look at your shoulder.”
I glance in the mirror, seeing a similar bruise, mostly hidden under my tattoos. “I deserve it.”
“I really have to pee.”
“So?” I ask.
It sounds like she mutters, “For fuck’s sake,” but I can’t quite hear over the thumping of my heart. I let her get hurt. What if she’d hit her head on a rock? It was a stupid decision that could’ve ended so much worse.
“I—uh, I’m sorry,” I say, not remembering the last time I had to apologize to anyone. Usually, my bad behavior is excused on the basis of me being. . . me. But I can’t allow myself to move on until I know she’s forgiven me.
“Surprised you didn’t choke over those words.” The sound of urine hitting water in the toilet echoes in the small bathroom. I like the fact that she has reached a new level of comfort in front of me.
Books aren’t my thing, so I rely on YouTube to explain things I don’t understand, like intimacy. Between those videos and what happened last night, I’d say we’re there. Maybe she’ll marryme now. But being naked in the bathroom while she’s on the toilet doesn’t feel like the right time to talk about it. I’ll wait until later.
“How does someone choke over words?”
She exhales loudly. “I forgive you. Now, can I have a minute to get cleaned up?”
“I guess.” I leave her to pull on a pair of boxers and let the rats out.
They holler at me, trying to climb up my bare legs. I have to brush them away to allow me to lower to my corner so they can crawl on me and bitch about being late. For so long, they’ve been my only companions. I don’t know if rats can feel jealous, but there’s no way to explain they need to adjust because Parker comes first from now on.
Though, I get why they’re annoyed. I don’t enjoy having my schedule interrupted either. And Parker is a life-size interruption.
Parker and I stride over to the clubhouse, hand in hand. My chest puffs with pride as I slide the back door open, and all heads turn toward us. I don’t think anyone here believed I was capable of even having a relationship, let alone one with a woman as beautiful and put together as Parker.
