Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“Fuck. I’m setting up a vet appointment for you. Declaw you, you overgrown raccoon. See how you like that—”
“Hey. Hey. What’s going on?” Fuck. Pike was right behind him, bemused expression on his face.
“Cat got out,” Zack admitted. “But I got him back.”
“Thanks.” Pike gently extracted Gizmo from Zack’s arms. “But you’re a bloody mess. Damn cat.” He glared down at Gizmo, who yawned. “You’re a troublemaker.”
“Hell yeah, he is.” Zack followed Pike up the deck and into the house, stopping to shake the worst of the dirt off.
“And now you’re injured—”
“It’s nothing.”
“You’re bleeding from your arm, your neck, your foot, and judging by the stain on your shirt, I’d bet chest too. Come on, let’s clean you up.” Pike tugged Zack toward the bathroom.
“What? No. I can do it,” Zack protested even as he followed along.
“My cat injured you. Least I can do is clean you up. Sit.” Pike gestured at the closed toilet, using a voice that not even Zack’s lieutenant would argue with. Pike fetched the first aid kit Zack had stashed in one of the drawers by the sink. “I already had to bust this out after a bad run-in with a carpet tack.” He showed off a bandage on his forearm.
Zack had the strangest urge to reach out and touch the arm, make sure Pike really was okay. He distracted himself by taking in Pike’s rather unusual appearance. Unlike Pike’s usual wardrobe of T-shirts and tight jeans with a wide punk leather belt, Pike had on a sedate light blue button-down shirt, gray-and-blue-striped tie and gray pants. His normally spiky hair had been subdued with a harsh side part and a lot of gel.
“What’s with the outfit?”
Pike made a pained face. “First faculty meeting. I’m trying to fit in. Speaking of clothes, take your shirt off. Let’s see how bad the damage is.” He glared heavily at Zack until he pulled the shirt off. That one was surely toast as it had blood from his neck and chest all over it.
“It’s not as bad as it looks.” Zack gave a little laugh.
“Fuck.” Pike let out a low whistle. “Let’s start at your foot and work our way north.”
Shit. That shouldn’t sound so dirty, but dripping from Pike’s full lips, the words made Zack shiver. And Pike kneeling in front of him, shoving a towel under his foot before putting it in his lap, God, that just made Zack all kinds of crazy. Being...serviced like this, even if the alcohol pad Pike swiped over his skin hurt, made Zack’s pulse flutter.
Hell, after a while Zack started anticipating the sting of the alcohol. First his foot, then his hand and arms, all with Pike’s gentle yet efficient touch. Touch. Sting. Slippery touch with antibiotic cream. Touch. Sting. Fuck. This must be why some of his friends were so gung-ho for tattoos—having someone this close to you, working on you, was a bit of a turn-on, the pain doing strange things and morphing into little licks of sensation.
He let out a low moan as Pike worked a particularly deep scratch on his forearms.
“Sorry,” Pike said in a low voice. “It’ll be done soon.”
Zack didn’t have the words to tell Pike that he was okay if this never ended, so he simply nodded.
“Gizmo’s had all his shots,” Pike assured him.
Like I care. Just keep touching me. Zack nodded, fighting to keep his eyes from drifting shut. And when Pike touched his chest, Zack couldn’t keep in the hiss of pleasure-pain. He really should have insisted on doing this himself, not let Pike turn this into some kind of erotic dance.
No, that’s all you. Pike’s just doing his civic duty. And indeed, Pike did seem very focused on the task at hand, cleaning the scratches and punctures on Zack’s chest, then frowning. “Do you want a Band-Aid here or no? It’ll stick to your chest hair.”
Zack peered down. He didn’t have a thick pelt of hair like some of the guys, but he did have a fair smattering of blond fuzz, getting thicker and darker around his belly button heading south. And yeah, a bandage was going to hurt coming off. “I’m good.”
“That you are.” Pike shook his head, the first hint of a leer on his face. “You know I could work out five hours a day and not get that kind of chest definition.”
Resisting the urge to preen, Zack snorted. “I mainly work out on base with my team, but if you want me to show you some stuff, just ask.”
“Do I get a hands-on demo?” Pike’s eyes sparkled and Zack was acutely aware of how close their bodies were in this small space. He opened his mouth to answer but Pike held up a hand. “Wait. I said I wouldn’t flirt. Ogling you working out would probably violate that.”