CHAPTER SEVEN
Locke checked one last time on the good doctor. The scent of her musky, feminine arousal filled his nose, and despite having taken a shower, it still lingered around him. He loved it, the sweetest, most arousing smell ever. It had taken all his carefully honed self-control not to bury his head between her thighs and take his fill. After she went limp, he’d taken her in his arms and made sure she was bundled up in bed. On her beautiful face he saw where she’d been hit, although the bluish bruises would soon start to fade, as would the ones on her side and shoulder. What annoyed him more was the signs of fatigue he could see. He had seen them at the hospital and it tore at him.
A woman, dedicated to others, one who risked her life, took care of everybody else around her, but neglected herself. Even without the threat over her head, she was fading away.
The thoughts in his mind made him pause. Locke didn’t want to care, and that was exactly where he was heading if he wasn’t careful enough.
Turning away from sleeping beauty, he closed the door, certain she wouldn’t wake for several more hours. Her body craved rest, and he had every intention of giving her plenty of that. In between rounds of sex, if she agreed to his deal.
Going to his kitchen, he turned on a couple of lights as sunlight was fading fast. He wanted to relax and check on things before going to bed when his phone buzzed.
Sighing, he didn’t bother checking it, as he knew full well who was on his way up at this time of day. Gage. If Locke, thanks to his work, tended to keep daylight hours now, his long-time friend was a creature of the night. For better and definitely for worse.
He put the kettle on, but only took one mug out. Gage would rather die than drink anything but water or strong alcohol. Locke was too wound up to even think of adding alcohol in his system.
He should have taken the edge off in the shower, but he wanted to make sure the doctor was all right, so he didn’t linger and was now paying the price.
His cock was making a tent in his sweatpants, but it would have to wait, as the elevator door opened.
“Bro, it’s getting cold outside.”
Locke just shook his head as he looked at his friend. “You complain when it’s too hot, too cold, too rainy. Just admit you’re a whiner.”
Gage sniffed as he threw his jacket on the sofa. Locke rolled his eyes. “You can hang your coat by the door, you know.”
This time, his friend smiled, his white teeth clashing with his dark brown beard. “Of course, I know. But it’s funnier to see how you wince when I mess your carefully ordered interior.”
“You came here this late just to annoy me, I’m honored.”
“Yeah, right.” The big man let himself fall on the sofa. “You asked me to tell you before I went to a fight, so that’s what I’m doing now. Do you have any beer?”
Locke grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and threw it at him.
“Water is better. You need a clear head. You don’t need to further destroy your ugly face.”
Gage smirked. “The ladies love this face. And even after a fight, I’m still more gorgeous than you are, so I don’t need to worry.”
Locke poured himself a cup of tea. “You’re coming back here after the fight?” He tried to sound disinterested, but deep down, he was worried. Gage wasn’t going to legal fights, and the cage fighting he did was often organized by underground organizations. There was always a great risk to his life, but Locke knew he couldn’t stop him. And probably wouldn’t. Despite all the smiles and the flirting, fighting was the only way Gage had found to keep his own demons in check.
“If you mean back to my place, for sure. Unless you need me here.”
Locke hesitated which didn’t go unnoticed by Gage. When he stood to join him in the kitchen, he looked down where the doctor’s top lay on the carpet. Gage grabbed it.
“It’s not like you to not be tidy, unless…” Bringing the piece of cloth to his nose, he inhaled. “A woman.”
Locke put his steaming cup down and rubbed his face. “It’s complicated.”
“Weren’t you going to see Luther this afternoon? You finally found that girl and bought her outright?”
“No. I can’t tell you everything, but something happened.”
Gage tossed the shirt on the couch and sat on one of the stools. “Start explaining.”
Locke knew there wasn’t a way around it as his friend could be stubborn as a rock.
“After that disagreement with Johnson—”
Gage snickered. “You mean that knife fight. Damn, Locke, you had your butt kicked, bro.”
