My knees go loose, and a rush of warmth seeps between my legs.
“And you’ll let me, won’t you?” he purrs. “You’ll let me sink into your tight heat. I’ll go so deep neither of us will know where you start and I end, and you’ll come for me. Won’t you,Keresta?”
A whimper escapes from between my lips, and my hips grow restless, seeking, wanting everything he is teasing me with. And yeah, I’ll let him do all of that. Probably more.
“Your cunt will grip me so tight.” His rhythmic purring surrounds us, and my eyes flutter shut as more heat pulses between my legs. “When you take my claiming bite, you’ll come for me again.”
A shiver rolls down my spine, and my skin erupts in gooseflesh, as my imagination fills in everything he’s describing.
Fuck!If he keeps talking like this, I might come before he ever touches me.
The sound of pounding steps tears us from the reverie he’s created. Without warning, the door to the shuttle slides open, and Rovos pushes me inside just before the door slides closed behind us and we’re plunged into darkness.
I can’t see a damn thing in the pitch-black.
“The med-kit is usually in the back. Check the cupboards by the eliminator.” Rovos’ voice comes from a direction I’m not expecting.
Before I can ask which way the back of the ship is, the lights flicker on. Blinking against their brightness, I forget the med-kit when I see Rovos leaning heavily against the wall; his strange plum-colored blood has soaked through one side of his shirt, and he’s not looking so good.
“Oh shit.” Hurrying to his side, I help him to the ground before he falls.
Dropping to my knees, I bunch up his shirt and press it against his shoulder to staunch the bleeding. His muscular physique doesn’t allow for much room, and I worry that moving his shoulder to remove his shirt might make the bleeding worse. My hand drops to my thigh, where I always keep a pair of medical sheers in my scrubs pocket, before realizing I’m not wearing scrubs. I swear under my breath that I’m not at work, with a full medical team at my fingertips.
Okay, Anna. Think. What can I use to—
Letting out a frustrated grunt, I roll my eyes at my stupidity as I pull the cloak from my shoulders. For the first time since being abducted, a sense of calm washes over me. This is familiar. Nursing is something I have confidence in. Because no matter where I might be in the universe, healing is healing.
“Lean forward,” I tell him, so I can tuck half of the cloak behind him. “Now, lean back and put as much pressure on that as you can.” I drape the other half over his shoulder and grab his opposite hand, pressing it against the hole in his shoulder. “Hold this tight. I’ll see if I can find the first aid kit.”
“Med-kit,” he corrects me.
I shoot him a narrowed look before jumping up and taking in the small shuttle. There are four seats in the open area where Rovos collapsed, and maybe some more jump seats that might fold out from the wall. To my right is a small cockpit, with two captains’ chairs and a smaller version of the view screen on theShade.
To my left is a narrow hallway lined with cupboards that looks like it opens up into a cleanser. Biting down on my bottom lip, I start opening and closing cupboards and drawers, scanning the contents for anything that might look like a med-kit.
I’m starting to get frustrated that I’ve either somehow missed it, or that it’s been removed, when I open the last set of cupboards and a black box comes tumbling out. I try to catch it, but it slips through my fingers, and when it hits the ground, the lid pops open and rolls of bandages fall out.
“Found it!” I announce.Thank god,I think as I push everything back inside and hurry to Rovos’ side.
His dark stripes appear darker against his gray skin. I mean, he’s always gray, but his face is much less gray. A too-pale gray. And his eyes are heavy-lidded, like it’s too much effort to keep them open.
Shit shit shit! How much blood has he lost?
Crouching beside him, I go through the med-kit, sorting out the contents and separating the familiar. Gauze. Bandages. Ointment. Tape. The things I’m not so sure of, I set aside.
“This,” Rovos grunts, reaching across me and picking up the device I just set in theno-fucking-cluepile. It reminds me of a small caulking gun filled with a metallic gel. “Hold it like this and squeeze here. It will inject a packing material that will stop the bleeding, and then you can seal it closed.”
“What’s the material made of?” I peel the cloak back from his shoulder. I can’t help my relieved sigh that the bleeding has slowed some.
“I don’t know. I know it’s organic and has an added clotting factor. My body will absorb it as it heals.”
My eyes widen. How cool is that?! This could be an absolute game changer for ERs.
Tossing the cloak aside, I press the tip of the device inside the gaping hole the laser left in Rovos’ shoulder. When I squeeze the trigger, the dark-colored gel fills the wound quickly, expanding as soon as it leaves the tube, similar to foam sealant, and I have to be careful not to add too much.
Once I’ve plugged the hole and stopped his bleeding, I rock back on my heels with a relieved sigh. “Alright. It worked.” Digging through the kit, I ask without looking up, “Is there a suture kit? Or, um, a thread and needle?”
Rovos stays quiet, and when I look up at him, he has a look of horror on his face.
