She still panted, her br**sts moving beneath him. “What? What did I do?”

“You didn’t stay still.” He leant his forehead against hers.

“I only moved a little,” she said, trying her best to look down her nose at him. It couldn’t have been easy to do, flat on her back with his softening dick still stuffed inside her. “I thought I was quite controlled, actually.”

His c**k twitched, valiantly trying to reanimate. It was a monster, out of control.

“Nick,” she said. “You can’t be serious.”

“It’s the uptight librarian thing. I have no defense against it.” He sighed and pulled out of her. “Stay there. Let me clean you up.”

She gave a low chuckle. “Is this Nurse Nick with a sponge bath? Because this librarian could totally handle that.”

Fuck. So could he.

A bucket of water and some washcloths had been left care of her friend Lila. There wouldn’t be any dallying over the task today, however. He could still hear voices outside.

He wet the cloth and smoothed it over her face and neck. Lifted up her tank top and tried not to linger over her br**sts. God, he hated seeing that bandage on her. It didn’t look like there’d been any fresh bleeding, thankfully. He kissed the bruising better and washed her gorgeous tits and stomach, the sticky mess they’d made between her legs. Going gently there, since her pu**y was still swollen. In an ideal world, Roslyn would always look exactly like this, wet and well loved. But definitely without the bandages.

“You’re covered in my come,” he said, just because he liked the sound of it. The view was distinctly good. If only he had a camera.

She stared at the ceiling, her teeth sunk into her bottom lip.

“Am I embarrassing you?” he asked.

“Not at all,” she said with an amused smile. “Please, Nick. Do go on about our combined bodily fluids currently coating my nether regions.”

“Well, my sperm is all through the cute little tuft of hair just above your pu**y. I’m really going to have to give that another wash. It’s a bit sticky.” He did so, diligently, while she grinned. Never mind, he took the task seriously enough for both of them. What an excellent job description. He’d be the caretaker of Roslyn’s vagina. The guardian of her sweet cunt. “That’s better. See, now your pubic hair is all beautiful and clean. Not a curl out of place.”

“You’re sure about that?”

He made a show of combing the little tufts of hair with his fingers before placing a gentle kiss on her mound. “Yes. Perfect.”

Her body shook with laughter, lips trembling trying to hold back a smile. “I hate you.”

He paused, the wet washcloth still covering her sex. So many times he’d heard those words come out of her mouth. This time, she didn’t mean it. No doubt about it. He knew that. It still stopped him.

“Shit,” she said.

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. Nick. Look at me.”

After a moment he did. Her hand beckoned him closer and she started to sit up. Which was dangerous. She could easily hurt herself.

“Hey. Be careful.” Quickly he put an arm behind her, helping her up. Her arms wrapped around his neck and hung on tight. He took as much of her weight as he could, letting her catch her breath.

“Oh,” she said with a wince. “That’s a bit sore, actually.”

“Do you want to lie back down?”

“No.”

“Hang on. I’ve got your pain meds and antibiotics.” He picked up the neatly labeled pills and the bottle of water, popped the tablets into the palm of her hand. No way would she be getting an infection or something and getting sick. “Here.”

She put the pills in her mouth and drank half the bottle of water in one go. Her face was still pale. Bruises lingered beneath her eyes. “I’m okay.”

“You should lie back down,” he said. “You need to rest.”

“Shh.” Gently she kissed him, over and over, until she’d covered his lips entirely. He held still and let her go on for as long as she liked. Forever would be fine. That would work for him. Her lips were so soft. But eventually she sighed and rubbed her nose against his. “I don’t hate you. I don’t. I never should have said that. I promise I will never say it to you again. I—”

“Nick,” Sean bellowed, his timing f**king horrible. He ran into the room with a set of keys jangling in one hand and a rifle in the other. “Time to move. We’ve got a situation.”

“What?”

Sean shoved a key into the lock, swung the door open. Nick had seen that tight-lipped look on the captain before. It never meant anything good. Dread sunk his stomach.

“Locals have put together a lynching party,” said the captain. “Guess who they want to hang from a tree on Main Street?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

“Where are the guns we came in with?” Roslyn asked, letting Nick help her to her feet. This wasn’t so bad. Her head spun a wee bit, but she’d manage. These yokels had left her with no other option. Over her dead body they’d hurt him. “They’re not touching you.”

Nick just looked at her.

“I’m serious,” she said. “Pull any more of that self-sacrificing bullshit and I’ll shoot you myself.”

The man looked to Sean, eyes trying to communicate something. Did he think she was a complete idiot? Honestly? Without further ado she thumped him in the belly with her good hand. Nick gave a startled oomph. Truly, in her current mood, violence suited her.