“I’m not getting you naked,” I said, wrestling with the gown. “The opposite actually.”
“Wow, disappointment abounds,” Vigo said, shoving one of his arms into one of the arm holes. “At least come lay next to me.”
I let him pull me onto the bed next to him until I was resting in the crook of his arm. It was as close as I’d been able to get to any of my men since the explosion at the paper mill, and I nuzzled against his warm skin, comforted by the beat of his heart under my ear.
He kissed the top of my head. “Doctor Sterling said I might be going home tomorrow.”
I craned my neck to look at him. “That’s great! Jagger’s going home soon too.”
“How’s Hawk this morning?” The humor had disappeared from Vigo’s voice, replaced by the seriousness we all felt when we talked about Hawk.
“They’re going to try and pull back his meds, see if they can get him off the ventilator.”
“Good,” Vigo said. “That’s good.”
“Don’t your ribs hurt?” I asked when he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me more tightly against him.
“Like a son of a bitch,” he said. “But they hurt less when I hold you.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Some things don’t, mouse.”
Didn’t I know it.
I closed my eyes as we sank into silence, and if it hadn’t been for the sound of the hospital all around us — the beeping of machines from other rooms, announcements on the intercom, breakfast trays rolling down the hall — I could almost have believed we were back at the house, lying in one of the Hawks’ beds, just waking up after a night of pure pleasure.
My pussy pulsed at the thought of it and I pressed my thighs together, willing my lust to read the room — I was literally in Vigo’s hospital room for god’s sake — and take a seat.
He stroked my arm, his touch like a match to my skin, and I squirmed next to him, wondering if it would be worse to ignore the fire smoldering in my body or to tell him he was getting me all worked up.
But then he shifted, trailing his hand over my shoulder and into the neckline of my T-shirt, and I knew there was no point trying to ignore it.
He slipped his hand into my bra and I sucked in a breath when he covered my tit with his hand.
“You’re in the hospital…”
“I lost some hearing, but I can still see,” he said, rolling my nipple between his fingers.
“We can’t fool around in ahospital.” It felt wrong, not just because we were in the hospital but because Hawk was upstairs, still fighting for his life.
Still, I couldn’t deny the hunger roaring through my veins. I’d once read that a surprising number of people had sex at funerals. It had seemed sick at the time, but I thought I understood it now.
Surrounded by death, it was only human to want to feel alive, and what was a bigger testament to life than fucking?
Vigo slipped his other hand around my waist and into my jeans. “No offense, but I think I’m proving you wrong.”
“Your ribs…”
“My ribs feel fucking fine.” He worked his hand into my underwear and I gasped when his fingers brushed against my clit on the way to my pussy. “It’s my dick that’s on fire.”
I reached under the sheet and realized he wasn’t wearing underwear when my hand connected with his cock.
He groaned when I wrapped my fingers around his shaft.
“Does this hurt?” I asked, worried I was pressing on his broken ribs.
“‘Hurt’ isn’t the word that comes to mind, mouse.”