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Everything was happening too fast. Beth needed a moment to think, to slow the situation down. Rio wanted her to shoot Agent Turner to keep herself out of jail – and by extension him as well. In that moment, she knew what she had to do to get his full and undivided attention. Beth turned the gun on herself. The look that came over his face was one she hadn’t seen before. Genuine fear. This was a high adrenaline situation, and her hand was already shaking.
“What’re you doin’, Elizabeth?” Rio asked carefully and as calmly as he could. He made sure to stay where he was, lest he escalate the situation.
“Getting your attention,” Beth responded, her voice shaking. She had the muzzle of the gun pressed right to her chest, just against her shoulder.
Rio stared at her, trying to judge how serious she was about pulling the trigger on herself. His prints were on the gun. If the FBI agent decided to cut Elizabeth loose, he could say that they struggled for the gun, she was trying to save him, and ended up shot. Attempted murder of a suburban housewife didn’t look good on him. Rio knew that already.
Beth watched Rio’s face change from fear to calculation. He was sizing her up, she knew it. For a moment she wondered if he would roll the dice, gambling she wouldn’t shoot herself. Rio took a step towards her, and she stepped back – nearing the center island. When he was close to her, she couldn’t think. He muddled her mind with their chemistry. A little distance and she could think her way out of this. Hopefully.
Rio took another step closer to her. He had to get the gun away from her before she did something they’d both regret. The FBI agent tied to the steal beam didn’t matter anymore. Only getting the gun away from his girl mattered. She looked away from him long enough for him to close the distance between them. “Give me the gun,” he said softly.
“No,” Beth responded, shaking her head. She didn’t want to have that man’s blood on her hands. It was bad enough Rio had already put Dean’s there. She still couldn’t look at that spot on the dining room floor. It would have been easier if her lousy husband had died on the operating table. She’d have had insurance money to save herself.
Rio had been so focused on Elizabeth that he hadn’t been paying attention to the rest of his environment. One of the windows shattered from a bullet that buried itself in the forehead of the FBI agent. It was enough to startle her. In her agitated state, she pulled the trigger just as he took her down to the ground, getting her to safety behind the island. Jumping into action, he took the gun from her hand, tucking it in the small of his back. He stripped off his long-sleeved shirt, folding it to make a pad and pressed it to her wound.
Beth was in shock as she stared past Rio, seeing the dead agent on the floor, brain matter painting the steal beam he’d been tied to. She looked up at Rio. She wanted to ask what was happening, who was shooting at them, but she couldn’t make her mouth work. He pressed harder, wringing a cry of pain from between her lips. This kick started her brain, beating back the shock. “What’s going on?”
“You shot yourself, Elizabeth,” Rio snarled in anger. He should have gotten the gun from her before this happened.
“I know that,” Beth replied, doing her best to ignore the pain. “I meant to him,” she clarified, nodding towards the dead body.
“He got dead,” Rio remarked sarcastically.
“How?” Beth demanded.
“I have an idea,” Rio muttered, rolling his eyes. She had started to open her mouth to bombard him with more questions. His control was frayed enough as it was. “No more. I’ve got to get you out of here and patched up.”
“Why do you care?” Beth asked, gritting her teeth together. The pain had started to set in as her adrenaline rush faded. She pressed the back of her head against the island.
Rio leaned in close to her, his lips nearly pressed to hers as he said, “You’re my girl. I’ve got you.”
“You’re girl?” Beth asked weakly. She could almost believe he meant it.
“Yeah, mine,” Rio replied, adding a little growl. This was the moment he knew he couldn’t keep treating her like he did everyone else. She’d gotten under his skin long before he’d gotten in her panties. “I’m gonna get you out of here and to someone who can take care of this,” he said indicating her wounded shoulder.
“If we move, won’t we get shot too?” Beth asked, afraid to leave the safety of the island, shielding them from a sniper’s view. She was doing her best not to be terrified. Rio, for whatever reason, was being gentle with her. He was going out of his way to calm her down.
“Nah, there was only one shot from outside, and it was aimed at our problem,” Rio answered. If they were targets too, they’d be dead already. He wouldn’t tell her that, though. No need to frighten her more than she already was. All he wanted now was to comfort her. It was a strange urge that he had to deal with ever since meeting her. Elizabeth made him want to be weak. The uncertainty of their attraction had made him be hard on her, intimidating, and unpredictable. He couldn’t deny that showing up at her home was more about feeding his addiction of being near her than it was to remind her that she was his.
“If you’re sure,” Beth said. The pain was starting to get to her. And she had given birth to four children.
“I got you,” Rio repeated, and then helped her to her feet. He paused for a second, testing that he was right, and the sniper was gone. She clung to him, her arm draped across his shoulders, her fingers curled into his undershirt. He kept her close, kept in the shadows as much as he could, heading for the door.
ACROSS TOWN:
Beth barely paid any attention to where Rio was taking her. Each time she felt herself nod off; a burst of pain brought her back to the waking world. He drove with his left hand while his right continued to hold pressure to the bullet wound. At one point, she tried to keep the pressure on, but her hand kept falling into her lap. She wasn’t sure if it was blood loss, shock, or her body being exhausted from the dissipating adrenaline rush. Before she knew it, his SUV was pulling into a parking lot.
Rio killed the engine, removing the keys, and stuffing them in his pocket. He shifted in his seat, bringing her hand up, trying to get her to hold pressure. “Elizabeth, you have to press hard,” he said quickly, demonstrating. She yelped but did as she was told. He got out of the driver’s seat, hurrying around to her side. Opening the door, he helped her out, and mindful of the dark around them, guided them to the door. It opened, permitting them inside. The outer office was dark. Rio went straight back to the first door, pushing it open with the toe of his boot. “Hey, Doc, you in here?” he called out.
“Come on back.” A voice called back.
“Rio…?” Beth started to ask.
“It’s okay, darlin, the Doc owes me,” Rio explained as he walked with her through the door, heading towards an exam room. This wasn’t a typical doctor’s office. The man Rio was taking his girl to was someone who specialized in patching up gang bangers so they could go out and get shot again. Dr. Rollins had gotten drunk, shooting off his mouth about one of his patients that was beneficial to Rio. To keep from getting killed in retaliation, Rio put the doctor to work for him and his.
Beth looked around the pristine white room, dreading what this place was used for. The gurney had a white sheet on it, and an instrument tray set up nearby. The floor was a speckled blue and grey that she imagined had seen quite a few bodily fluids spilled on it.
“Get her on the gurney and cut open her sweater,” Rollins said to Rio, handing him a pair of scissors.
Rio accepted them without so much as an argument. He helped Elizabeth up, and then guided her down to her back. Standing on her left side he removed the make-shift bandage, dropping it to the floor to be forgotten. He pulled up the collar of her sweater, setting the scissors against it, cutting down through the fabric and bra strap to expose the wound. Seeing her pale skin covered in blood made the muscles of his stomach clench. He was responsible for this happening to her – and all because he had to push. The bullet had grazed along her skin, under her collar bone. He thanked God for a small miracle.
“Is it bad?” Beth asked cringing.
“Nah, just a graze,” Rio said and caught himself before he leaned down and kissed her forehead. The doctor came rolling around on a stool, so he could inspect the damage for himself.
Rollins adjusted the light attached to the gurney, studying the wound. He used sterile saline to clean the edges. It was jagged and deep enough that it would need stitches. “I’ll have to apply a local anesthetic to numb the area before I stich it closed.”
“Can’t you just bandage it. I’m not bleeding much,” Beth argued. She couldn’t tell how much blood she’d actually lost because her sweater and his shirt had soaked it up.
“It’ll heal faster with stiches,” Rollins said, rolling away to get a small needle and a vial of the anesthetic.
Rio returned to her right side, taking her hand while the doctor’s back was turned. “Listen to him, he knows what he’s doin,” he urged her. “After he’s done, I’m taking you home.”
“I can’t go home like this,” Beth hissed.
“Nah, I mean home with me,” Rio informed her. He wasn’t going to let her out of his sight.
“Back to the loft with the dead body?” Beth asked between her clenched teeth.
“That ain’t my home,” Rio said simply. It had been staged to throw her off. No, where he rested his head was in an apartment above the bar where they had had their little bathroom break.
Beth didn’t get the chance to respond. The doctor was wheeling himself back over to her with a small needle. She turned her head away, hating the sight of it coming towards her. Beth was not a fan of needle pricks of any kind. Then, Rio’s hand was in hers, giving her something to hang on to. The needle puncture felt ten times worse to her already savaged skin, but that was nothing compared to the localized burning as the anesthetic was pushed into the dermis. Beth squeezed Rio’s hand hard. He didn’t utter one growl of protest. A few seconds later, the pain stopped, and she exhaled a harsh breath.
Rio didn’t take his hand from hers even though it felt like she’d crushed every bone with her strong grip. He was glad to be the one to give her strength. Standing by silently, he kept his gaze on her until she was looking at him, searching his eyes for answers. Rio radiated calm – when he felt anything but. Guilt was new for him. He was guilty that she was injured. Right now, his one focus was keeping Elizabeth calm so the doctor could stitch her up.
Beth focused all her attention on Rio, on his intense gaze. She let it drown out everything else – even the feel of the needle tugging her skin together, of the stitches being tied off to keep the wound closed. Each time he exhaled, so did she. Beth wanted to be terrified of what would happen after – what she would have to tell Dean, her sister and Ruby, the kids. Those thoughts tried to take hold of her, to make her mind spin out. Keeping her eyes locked with his helped to keep the rest of the world at bay.
Rio wanted to look away, to check that the doctor was doing his best work. Each time he thought he would check; her eyes would beg him to keep looking at her. It was that doe-eyed innocence he came to crave. When she looked at him like that, he was instantly disarmed. He didn’t know when it happened, or why he allowed it to affect him in such a way. After Rollins was finished, he was going to take her home, and start to rebuild the relationship they had. It hadn’t dawned on him until now that she wasn’t a boss. She was a queen. He had called himself a king. If that was true, then he needed to change how he treated her.
“All finished,” Rollins announced, none the wiser that his patient wasn’t listening. He covered the wound with a gauze pad, taping it in place. “You’ll need to change the bandage every twelve hours and she’ll need pain killers.”
Rio didn’t glance away. He simply said, “Your usual payment will be waiting for you.” While they kept their eyes on each other, Rio helped Elizabeth to stand. She wavered slightly and then found her footing. He kept his hand in hers, pulling her in against him to slip his left arm around her waist to help keep her steady. All he wanted to do was get her home.
LUCKYS:
Rio parked around the back of the bar. He and Elizabeth hadn’t spoken after leaving the doctor’s office. As he drove through the city, he glanced over at her, seeing her eyes were closed. He let her sleep, giving himself time to think. It was hard not to replay the events of the night, pinpointing the exact moment he lost control of the situation. Rio was so sure he could bend her anyway he wanted – even getting her to shoot someone. The moment she turned the gun on herself, he knew he messed up. He’d handled her all wrong and he admitted that to himself.
Beth had only closed her eyes for a second, but it was long enough. When she woke, the SUV was parked, and her door was open. Rio was there, offering his hand to her. She couldn’t help but wonder why he was being so gentle with her all of a sudden. It couldn’t be because she was injured – self inflicted as it was. She looked into his eyes again, seeing a hint of realization that was curious. Beth feared it wouldn’t end well for her. He helped her out of the car, seeing where they were. His bar. They weren’t going in there, though.
Rio guided her to the back stairs that took them up to the loft. Originally, it had been used for storage. When he set his sights on it, he renovated it into his private sanctuary. He cleared out the empty kegs of beer, and empty crates that contained old liquor bottles. Those he saved. Rio did all the work himself from soundproofing, to drywalling, to the plumbing. When he was ready to make cosmetic changes, he took all the bottles and created a wall partitioning the living area off from the bedroom. This was a place for him and no one else. Until Elizabeth.
Beth didn’t know how she did it, but she made it all the way to Rio’s front door without tripping over her feet. She was tapped, scraping the bottom of the barrel for any energy she could find. It took her a full minute to realize that she had stepped inside. In that time, he’d closed the door, locked it, and turned on one light. He was standing in front of her, holding out his hand to her. Without much thought she took it, letting him lead her further into his home. She saw the bed, neatly made, but he didn’t stop them there. He led her into a spacious bathroom. It had a large black tiled shower with a bench running the length of the wall. Silver accented everything – from the shower head and knobs to the faucet on the large vanity. “I’m so tired…” she mumbled, her voice echoing all around them.
“You don’t have to do anything but let me take care of you,” Rio replied bring his hand up, using his pinkie to push strands of her hair out of her face – the way he liked to do. She didn’t protest. He opened a drawer of the sink, pulling out a pair of scissors. This time he set them to the hem of her sweater, cutting up the center. Once it was open, he gently pushed it down her arms, mindful of the bright white bandage on her left shoulder. He dropped the ruined garment to the floor and then reached behind her to unhook her bra. It, too, went to the floor. Her left side was painted in blood, going all the way down to the band of her pants.
Beth didn’t know how she was able to keep standing. Rio had stepped away from her, moving around her to turn the water on in the shower. Then, in the blink of an eye, he was back in front of her, his hands on her hips, slowly walking her back. They stopped short of stepping into the black tiled shower. He stepped back again, this time to take off his shoes, his socks, and remove his t-shirt. She watched as he knelt down, taking her right ankle in his hand, pulling off her suede boot. It was a wonder she was able to keep her balance. He repeated the action with her left foot.
Rio helped her inside, standing in front of her. He popped the button of her black jeans, lowering the zipper. As he started to push the denim and her panties down her hips, she stopped him. “Gotta get you cleaned up, darlin,” he whispered. She hadn’t looked at herself in the mirror.
Beth swallowed hard, nodding slightly. He pushed her pants down to her knees, then motioned for her to sit on the bench behind her. She sat, hissing as the cold tiles touched her bare backside. Rio removed her jeans and underwear, tossing them over to where the rest of her clothes were. He knelt in front of her again, a washcloth in his hand, holding it under the water running from the faucet. She glanced to her left, seeing a soap dish. While her left shoulder was still numb, she reached for the ivory bar, and handed it to him.
Accepting it, Rio put it in the center of the cloth, and started to rub a good lather. He set it down, and then set to work washing the blood from her skin. Diligently, he started at her left hip, working his way up her side. Soon, the lather had turned red, and he needed to rinse the cloth clean. Holding it under the water, he concentrated on cleaning it. She touched his shoulder, her cold fingers like ice against his flesh. When he looked up at her, she motioned for the washcloth, silently telling him she’d finish. He shook his head. This was his mess to clean up. He was the architect of the whole situation tonight. It was on him.
Beth watched Rio return to work, washing away her blood. He was thorough, carefully wiping the cloth against her left breast, over her nipple as well as paying careful attention to the underside. Then, he took her left hand in his, cleaning her upper arm. When he was done, there wasn’t a streak of blood left on her. He rinsed the cloth quickly, cleaning away the soap from her. After he was sure he hadn’t missed a spot, he turned off the water and stepped out. “Your pants are soaked,” she commented. It earned her one of his little smirks.
Rio removed a black towel from the shelf, handing it to her. While she stood, wrapping it around her, he removed another and slung it over his shoulder. He stripped out of the rest of his clothes holding her gaze. Securing the towel around his hips, he went to lean against the edge of the sink, waiting for her. Watching her dry the water from her body was a treat for him. She moved in deliberate gestures, catching his gaze, getting him to follow her hand.
Beth stood up, stepping out of the shower, trying to secure the towel around her torso. The ends didn’t quite come together. And to top it off, her left shoulder was starting to throb. She held the corners in her right hand, trying not to feel awkward. “Now what?” she asked shyly.
“Now we go to bed,” Rio answered softly. At her look, he clarified, “You need rest and I’ve had all about I can handle today. I want to go sleep with my girl.”
That last part had a rush of warmth racing through Beth. Dean never would have said anything like that to her. “I have nothing to sleep in,” she pointed out.
“Do you really want clothes, Elizabeth?” Rio asked, dropping his voice to a husky growl. The tone made her shiver. Stepping in close to her, he said, “I have satin sheets on the bed that feel better when you wear nothing at all.” She only nodded.
Beth looked at the queen-sized bed, the comforter and sheet done in black and grey. Rio pulled back the covers, motioning for her to stretch out. He busied himself in the closet, looking for something. She laid down, pulling the gunmetal grey satin sheet over her, covering her breasts. The sheet was cold at first, then it started to warm to her body. He reappeared with an extra pillow in hand. Setting it next to her, he indicated she should lay on her side with her arm resting on the fluffed pillow. She rolled over, placing her arm where he showed her, and almost immediately, she felt some of the pressure ease away. A sigh of relief escaped her.
Rio walked around the bed, shed the towel and climbed in behind her. He could have lifted the sheet, pressing his body fully to hers, but for tonight, he would give her a little barrier between them. Spooning up behind her, he covered them with the comforter, laying his head down on the pillow with her. Rio draped his arm over her waist, resting it just below hers. It was a protective gesture that he couldn’t stop himself from making. He relaxed into sleep faster than he thought he would. His Elizabeth was already asleep.
MORNING:
Beth’s first conscious thought was of pleasure. Opening her eyes, she saw Rio looming beside her, his left hand had slipped under the sheet and between her thighs. Two of his fingers were slowly pumping in and out of her. She bit her bottom lip, giving him a sigh mixed moan.
“Thought you’d need a pain killer,” Rio whispered. Her little whimpers of pain had woken him. He didn’t want her to take up to that. He knew how to make her come and thought it was better she woke up with pleasure than with pain.
“How is this going to kill my pain?” Beth asked, moaning again, pressing her head back into the pillow. She clenched her thighs together, moving her hips, trying to ride his fingers.
Rio worked her, adding his thumb to the mix, pressing the pad against her clit, rubbing the little bundle of her. He could feel her stomach muscle clench. “Pleasure and pain are just impulses in the brain. Focus on one and drown out the other,” he growled into her ear.
Beth gave herself over to him, focusing on the ecstasy that was pulsing through her body. She concentrated on his fingers stroking her, stoking the fire of her building orgasm. He captured her gaze, holding it, holding her in thrall. They were danger and desire mixed together in one heady cocktail that they couldn’t stop drinking. His hand shifted, the angle of his fingers changed, and in the second her body was burning with release. It chased away everything – including her pain.
Rio held his hand in place, watching with male satisfaction as Elizabeth came in bed beside him. He loved seeing her face, loved hearing her gasping moans when she was orgasming. It was the best music to his ears. When her body relaxed, he removed his hand, bringing his fingers to his lips. He liked having the taste of her on his tongue. She looked at him as he licked his digits clean – a lazy smile formed on her lips. “You like that?” he asked. She nodded, giggling innocently.
Beth’s smile faded as she said, “I didn’t mean it when I said we were done.” She thought she was getting arrested for murder. All she wanted was one more time with Rio, then a clean break, so she could face the music. Now she knew, no matter how many times they were together, he’d be the one addiction she couldn’t kick.
Rio was about to respond when two sharp knocks sounded at his door. Smirking, he pressed a light kiss to her lips, and got out of bed. He picked up the towel, wrapping it around his hips, covering his morning hard on. Outside, a rolling suitcase waited with a note, and a plastic bag of wound care supplies. Rio pulled it inside, shut the door, and secured the lock.
Beth sat up in bed, the sheet held against her chest as she waited for him to come back. She wasn’t in a hurry to get home. Her eyes tracked over the wall made up of different shaped bottles – liquor she guessed. She liked the look of it and bet it created an interesting light show when the sun hit it just right. Moments later, Rio appeared with a suitcase that looked suspiciously like hers. She looked at him, attitude in her eyes.
“Thought you might want clothes,” Rio said in his usual manner. He gave her a wicked smirk.
“When are you going to stop breaking into my house?” Beth asked futilely. She knew the answer. Never.
Rio picked up the plastic bag and walked around the end of the bed. He held out his free hand, motioning for her to follow him. “I have to change the bandage,” he said softly. Her right hand immediately went to her left shoulder.
Beth got out of bed, following him back into the bathroom, unconcerned with being naked around him. He didn’t make her feel self-conscious, even when he looked her up and down, praising her body with a flick of his eyes. She had picked up the towel he’d given her last night, taking it with her. “Where do you want me?” she asked in an innocent fashion, knowing her question could have multiple answers.
Rio patted the edge of the sink. She stood in front of him, looking up into his eyes as she took the folded towel, putting it behind her as she leaned back against the grey granite. He brought his hand up, pushing her hair over her shoulder, exposing the top of the bandage. Close up, he could see a light red tint. Carefully, he peeled the tape off her. He was mindful of the stitches being caught in the gauze pad when he pulled it up. To his amateur eye, there was a normal amount of bloody drainage and no sign of infection setting it. The wound was a healthy, healing pink. Letting air get to it for a moment, he shifted focus to the basic first aid supplies. He opened a box of bandage pads and a tube of antibiotic ointment. Cracking the top of the tube, he spread a generous amount over the stitches, and then covered it with the pad.
Beth closed her eyes, pressing her lips tightly together. The way he was taking care of her was in direct contradiction to how he had always handled her before. Rough. Domineering. A Bully. This Rio, the one bandaging her wound was new, and she wasn’t sure if she could trust it. She thought it might be another manipulation – at first. Then his look of fear flashed through her mind. It was real, not faked. “What changed?” she asked.
Rio didn’t have to ask what she was talking about. “You turned the gun on yourself,” he replied, ripping a piece of silk tape. He secured one side, and then made quick work of the rest of it. Once her wound was covered again, he set it all aside and rested his hands on either side of her hips on the sink ledge. It put his face dangerously close to hers.
“I was just trying to get you to stop,” Beth said.
“It worked,” Rio confessed. It shouldn’t have. He’d held a gun to her plenty of times, but only with the intention of scaring her. Seeing her with it aimed at herself shouldn’t have scared him in the way it had. “Don’t do it again,” he warned, an edge of danger in his tone.
Beth swallowed hard – but not out of fear. “Then don’t try to bully me into shooting someone again,” she responded. It brought a sly smirk to his lips.
“You and me, we’re gonna start over,” Rio stated.
“Like, ‘Hi, I’m Beth’ and ‘Hi, I’m Rio’?” Beth asked, arching her right eyebrow at him. He was amused.
“Nah, we’re too familiar for that,” Rio replied, taking a step back, roving his gaze over her naked body, letting her see how he appreciated her. “I tried to get you to kill the king to be the king when what I should have been doing was making you my queen,” he told her. He was going to treat her differently than he treated those who worked for him. He had to. Threats made her scheme against him and ended with him getting arrested. Tightening his grip on her would have the same result.
Beth didn’t know which she preferred more – being referred to as ‘his girl’ or being called a queen. This side of Rio was new and confusing and desirable. “And what would I be doing as your queen?” she asked.
“We’ll talk about that later. For now, we need to heal that shoulder up,” Rio answered. He leaned in and kissed her softly. Elizabeth needed him to be tender to her when they were alone. Breaking the press of their lips, he whispered, “Get dressed, we’re going to go out to eat.”
Beth scoffed. This was the Rio she knew; the one giving orders that she wanted nothing more than to obey. At least he was taking her to get food. She went to get her suitcase, fished out a bra, panties, jeans, and a basic black t-shirt that would hide the bandage on her chest.
DINER:
Beth sat in a booth alone after she and Rio had given their order to the server. He had to duck out to take a call. From the look on his face, she could see it was someone he didn’t want to talk to. She sat back against the aged fake leather, scratching at the corner of the bandage under her shirt. A twinge as the stitches tugged told her she should stop.
“Dude! So, you’re not dead!”
Beth turned around seeing Annie and Ruby coming towards her table. “What’re you doing here? How did you find me?”
“Find my phone,” Annie answered giving her sister a DUH expression.
“We were worried when you weren’t texting us back,” Ruby explained, glancing at Annie, shaking her head.
“I wasn’t paying attention to my phone. I’ve had a really long night,” Beth said apologetically. Last night, she’d been kidnapped and taken to the loft. There had been no time to get her cell off the charge from the van. This morning, it was in the suitcase with her clothes. She hadn’t wanted to check her messages just in case there was one from Dean.
“What does ‘gang friend’ want now?” Annie asked, unable to keep the question to herself any longer. “We saw him outside on the phone. Does he want us to do another job? Are we smuggling something?”
Beth gave her sister a confused expression, furrowing her brow and shaking her head. “Rio doesn’t want anything. He just wanted to take me to breakfast,” she stated innocently.
Ruby gazed at Beth intently. “You went for that D again, didn’t you?” she asked.
Annie’s mouth fell open.
Beth closed her eyes, smiling in spite of the situation. Looking at her sister and best friend, she confessed, “I just really like having sex with him.”
“Hey now,” Rio called out, wearing a smirk. “I didn’t know we were going to have guests.”
“They tracked my phone, thinking you kidnapped me,” Beth teased. She angled her body towards him, her shoulder protesting the movement. It took all she had to keep from wincing.
Rio studied Elizabeth’s face. He could see the edges of pain starting to set in. Resuming his seat next to her, he slid his hand in between her thighs, moving it slowly up. She stopped him, tightening them. “You need another pain killer?” he asked in the same hopeful tone as he’d once asked her if she needed a bathroom break.
Beth held his gaze, momentarily forgetting Annie and Ruby were avidly watching them. “Yeah, a big one,” she responded with a hint of a smile.
“Pain killer…? What?” Annie felt confused.
“Headache,” Beth responded without looking at her sister.
Ruby promptly snorted in disbelief.
Rio ignored everything but Elizabeth and the way her thighs were clenched on his hand. The longer they stared at each other, the more of her grip relaxed. He was able to move his hand up, cupping her through her black jeans, feeling the heat of her against his palm. “I can fix you up after breakfast,” he whispered.
THE END