Page 17 of Savage Debt (The Debt Tales 2)

No.

That imagery is not helping.

Needing to build a little time and a little self-confidence prompts me to testing the waters before just diving in. I grab a hold of my tit and gently drag my pebbled nipple along the arch of his foot. More groans that I interpret as approval escape past his cracked lips alongside mine. The tiny twitches of the digits seem to be in excitement, and I slowly slide my tongue up the back of his second toe.

There’s no odd taste.

No unexpected texture.

The whole momentary experience is not bad.

Not bad at all.

I prepare to pop the little sucker all the way into my mouth when Nero’s other foot unexpectedly flies my direction. There’s no time for a block or to completely avoid the collision; however, I manage to Matrix style the shit so that my forehead makes minimal contact with the brick he calls his heel.

My ass hits our cold bedroom floor on a loudly barked, “Shit!”

Through slightly blurred vision and ringing in my ears from being UFC kicked, I somehow manage to make out our sheets getting tossed aside, my naked husband hopping into a combat position, and a gun being aggressively whipped around defensively.

“Elle?!” He shouts out into the dark of the early morning before turning on a lamp. “Elle?!”

“Present,” I half-heartedly murmur to his vibrating figure.

“What the fuck, baby?” His face scrunches in horror and confusion alike. “Why are you on the floor?”

“Why are you Jackie fucking Chan in your sleep?”

“That was you?!”

Groaning through the increasing pains, I somehow manage to slowly nod.

“I could’ve killed you!”

“Yeah, the slater you sleft behind on my sworehead, is levidence of pat.”

“You’re slurring.”

“AnI?”

Needing an answer is replaced by needing my eyes to close more.

It’ll only take a second to get myself back together.

Just.

One.

Sec.

***

Dr. Hans Ueno, our concierge doctor who has been here for the past hour, flashes the light in my eyes for the fourth time. “She doesn’t seem concussed.”

“No, just blind from how many times you’ve put that thing in my face.”

Nero tosses me a narrowed glare of disapproval.

Hans presents the man I’m pretending to be married to, but not pretending to love, with an amused grin. “She sounds fine to me.”

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