Stix & Stone - MM Urban Romance (Alpha's Rejects Book 1) by Courtney W. Dixon

Author:Courtney W. Dixon [Dixon, Courtney W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2023-10-20T16:00:00+00:00

Stone and I sat in his temporary bed, watching TV and playing with each other’s fingers while some show was on. I couldn’t say what it was about being too distracted by his presence and his touch, as simple as it was, but I did it with him, knowing he enjoyed little touches. He looked like hell with a swollen and bruised face, especially his nose. I ached for him, wishing I’d reached him sooner. Then maybe he wouldn’t have gotten so hurt.

I had to help him get undressed tonight because he wanted a shower, and my gut twisted seeing all the bruises along his body while trying to avoid what he looked like underneath all those clothes. He also had several scars I didn’t want to think about but couldn’t get out of my mind. Shit, some looked like someone put out their cigarettes on him. What happened to him? Who had hurt him enough to leave scars? But I kept my questions to myself. Stone was so closed off, so if I asked, he’d shut down. Hopefully, he’d trust me enough to tell me his story someday.

Despite my efforts not to stare at his body, his tattoos drew me in. I had a couple, but not like Stone. He had several along his arms and hands and a few on his chest. None of which were enough to hide his scars, but I wondered if that was his ultimate goal. After his shower, I had to bandage his chest again.

“I’m tired,” he said.

“Oh, sure. I’ll let you get some sleep.”

I turned off the TV with the remote, but he grabbed my wrist as I got out of bed. “Stay.”

My stomach did one of those roller coaster ride dips, not from fear but the thrill of the ride that went through me. “Okay.” He watched me as I removed my T-shirt and jeans, suddenly feeling conscientious of my much thinner body. He was so fit and broad, and I had a first-hand look at it earlier.

“Do you need help to remove your shirt?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

His face winced as I helped him sit up, gently pulled the shirt over his head, and tossed it over the side of the couch. I helped him lie down and crawled under the covers with him.

Stone turned onto his side, stifling a groan, then got settled. I rolled onto my side, facing him, and stared at his puffy and bruised hazels.

“Thanks,” he said.

“It’s cool, Rolling Stone.”

I wasn’t sure what I expected. A kiss? Holding hands? But it wasn’t him just passing right out, which was stupid since he’d only gotten out of the hospital today, and he was on pain meds.

I watched him sleep, grateful he decided to stay here, if only for a few days. He needed someone to dote on him. His roommates certainly wouldn’t do that. Once you got past his brooding silence and masked anger, you could see all his pain, the physical type. It was clear as day now that I’d gotten to know him.

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