an action movie, but when pills dropped from the sky, all I saw was the memory of Mila dressed in yellow, standing on cracked pavement catching snowflakes in her hand.
Greedier men than me were out there—her papa included—but I suddenly knew I had them beat as the impatient, covetous heat erupted inside for this girl who cried for me.
Pulling her lip free from her teeth, I ran an inked thumb across her mouth. “Nothing to say about my blackened soul?”
Her soft eyes lifted to mine. “No.”
My gaze hardened, her response sending an irrational lash of annoyance through me. The knowledge was difficult to admit to myself, but I liked this girl an indecent amount. I liked her in my home—even with all the mud she dragged in. I liked her full attention and smart mouth. But what I really liked was her heart—the pliable organ in her chest I could mold to fit my hand like Play-Doh.
Her tears, her trusting eyes, her fucking existence—all of it made it impossible to imagine her walking away from me while I watched from a distance, my palm containing a remnant of sticky yellow Play-Doh I’d never be able to wash off.
My thumb pressed down on her lips, smearing my inner turmoil across the soft pout of her mouth. Her lack of self-preservation used to amuse me; now, it made me want to keep her locked in a bulletproof room only I had access to. And I didn’t currently have one of those.
“Stupid kotyonok,” I growled in frustration.
Those cat-shaped eyes that originally gave her the nickname narrowed, and she jerked free from my grip. “You’re the stupid one lying here bleeding out.”
Now, she was moy kotyonok because she was sickly sweet until she bared her claws.
Grabbing her by the throat, I tugged her lips to mine. She exhaled into my mouth, the slide of my tongue cutting off her protests. She braced her hands beside my head in an effort to keep her body weight off mine. I’d been shot in the arm, not the chest, though somehow, it felt like the latter when she was around.
I nipped at her lips and feeling the wetness on her cheeks that belonged to me, I grew harder.
“No,” she breathed into my mouth, trying to pull away from me, but my body took it figuratively—as in, fucking forever—and my grip tightened, the chaos inside me rising to the surface.
She turned her head. “Ronan . . . no.”
“What did I say about that word?”
“You’re bleeding. Badly.” She sounded so distressed, I relaxed my grip but couldn’t stop myself from running my mouth down her neck, leaving a mark on her in the only way I knew how.
Releasing her flesh with a scrape of teeth, I said, “That’s what happens when you get shot.”
“You need to go to the hospital.” She struggled against me. “Seriously, what are you doing lying here?”
“I was trying to take a nap. But now I’m in the mood for something else.” I grabbed her thighs and pulled her to straddle me, ignoring the fire in my arm. The pain had nothing on the sudden physical need to be inside her. Oddly, I didn’t think the desire had anything to do with my dick.
“I’m not having sex with you right now.”
Grinding her down on my erection, I said, “I’ve had a shitty day, kotyonok. Make it better.”
“I’m calling the doctor.” She tried to pull away, but I didn’t let her go.
“You don’t have a phone.”
“Ronan . . . please. Please, just call the doctor.” Fuck. She sounded close to a fresh wave of tears. It rubbed me the wrong way, though that warm sensation returned, cementing the comparison I’d given it earlier to the holidays. Although, my cock was rock-hard, so now, the feeling was closer to a softcore Christmas special.
“I’ll text him,” I told her. “But only if you help me occupy the time until he gets here.”
The unenthusiastic look she gave me wasn’t one I usually got from a woman I was about to fuck, but it was somehow adorable nonetheless.
“That can’t be advised on WebMD.”
I chuckled. “If you’re such a follower of theirs, I’m sure they have a tutorial on how to patch up a gunshot wound. Better wash your hands and find a needle.”
She sighed, cast a look at the blood dripping from the crimson-soaked binding on my arm, and gave in. “Okay. But text him right now. This is a Satan’s Express situation, not a leisurely drive through the countryside.