Page 30 of Dark OZ

“Jokes on you, my ass looks great in every color of jeans.”

“You do have a glorious ass,” Crowe added, reaching down and cupping it while moving in for a slow kiss. Dorothy let out a sweet, breathy moan.

“Get the fuck out of here with that shit.” My blood began boiling with some kind of primal possessive instinct that had no business rearing its angry head.

“You’re just jealous because Thea actuallylikesme. If you two weren’t always trying to kill her, maybe she’d like you too.”

“In my defense, I haven’t tried to kill her in at least a day,” Nick said with a wry smile.

Chapter 13

Islunkfromtheedge of the toilet onto the tile floor, leaning back against the wall, and immediately regretted the movement when the sore flesh met the unrelenting surface behind me.

Days ago, the need to eat was all I could think about. Being locked in the dark always made it impossible to ignore the way hunger clawed at your stomach. So when Crowe slid his plate of seasoned potatoes at me, he might have been shoving a gourmet four-course meal. It was the most delicious-looking food I’d ever seen. Not that it mattered. Twenty minutes after finishing the last bite, it all came back up again.

“Che cagna sadistica!” I lifted my head from the rim to see Nick storming out of the room.

“What did that mean?”

Crowe handed me a glass of water and small paper cup of mouthwash. “I think he said something about a woman. He’s always grumbling about something. You get used to it. I barely notice anymore.”

After swishing my mouth thoroughly, I wiped away the excess with the back of my hand. The walls swayed and the ceiling spun. I gripped the wall and closed my eyes until the spinning in my head stopped. Crowe scooped me up, carrying me from the hallway bathroom to the couch. He slid next to me, lifting my legs to rest on his lap.

Nick reemerged holding two IV bags, one clear and another holding some kind of yellowish liquid.

“You just have IV bags waiting on standby?” What kind of people kept random IV bags in their house? How often did you need to use them before you found it necessary to maintain a stock?

Ignoring me, Nick hung them from a set of hooks beside a large loveseat. A quick scan of the room showed me that there were similar hooks in multiple places.

“And hooks for hanging them?” I added.

“Among other things.” He pointed to the chair, commanding, “Come.”

“I’m not your dog.”

“No, but youarea bitch. Now sit that pretty ass down in this chair, so I can get some nutrients in you.”

“I’m not letting you put that into me until I know what’s in it. Why is it yellow?”

“It’s a banana bag. Saline hydration mixed with B vitamins, potassium, and a cocktail of other things your body needs right now. If you can’t keep down solid food, then we need to try and replenish you in other ways.” He cut a hard look at Crowe. “Which doesn’t involve you pressing youradvantage.”

“What?” Crowe gave a crooked smile, running a thumb over his lower lip. “Increased blood flow is good for recovery.” I wasn’t sure what he was remembering, but as I watched his finger run along the curves of his mouth, all I could see were those very same fingers slipping over my naked, wet skin in the shower. He had been gentle and careful of my injuries, never pushing things too far. But, fuck if I didn’t want him to start pressing more than his advantage into me.

“Go on, Darling. Nicky is right. This will probably do you a lot of good.”

“Don’t call me Nicky,” he snapped, still staring me down and waiting for me to move.

“Aww, what’s the matter, Cupcake, don’t like being called Nicky?” I said with the most patronizing voice I could muster. Nick’s nostrils flared, looking remarkably like a bull ready to charge. So, the immovable mountain doesn’t like being called Nicky. I filed that bit of info away for later.

Crowe dropped my feet to the ground and gave me a gentle push towards the empty loveseat. Gingerly, I made my way across the room. Not because they demanded it of me but because my head was already starting to pound from dehydration, and whatever was in that bag seemed like a wise choice.

Settling into the chair so that my back was never fully sitting against the cushion, I presented my arm in offering. “Prick away.”

The lines of his face strained against smiling. It was probably my imagination, a facial tick or something in his eye because there was no way this gargoyle was amused. Tapping at my veins, Nick was surprisingly gentle when he inserted the IV.

“How do you know how to do all of this?”

Tenderly securing strips of tape along my arm, he said, “You spend enough time beneath a needle, you learn how to wield it.”

---