Totally Tormented
Author:Lucy Covington

Totally Tormented by Lucy Covington

 

 

 

 

LINDSAY

 

 

Justin was hurt.

 

Not as bad as I’d first thought, but it was still bad.

 

After I’d helped him up off the floor, he seemed to be doing gradually better. He assured me that he’d just gotten dizzy, and it happened sometimes after a tough fight.

 

He was bruised all over, his cut was gashed back open, and his right eye was puffy and swollen. I walked him back to his bedroom and made him sit down on the bed.

 

I turned on the light and he winced.

 

“What the hell happened?” I asked as I surveyed the damage. The cut over his eye looked horrible -- it was definitely going to leave a scar.

 

“A few guys tried to mess with me.” He gave me a wry smile. “Didn’t know what they were getting themselves into.”

 

I shook my head. He was trying to be brave, but I could tell it was an act. None of his injuries looked like anything horrible by themselves, but all together I could only imagine what they felt like.

 

“No, seriously,” I said. “What happened?”

 

“My new gym,” he said. “I had to prove myself.”

 

“The guys at your new gym did this to you?”

 

“Yeah.” I wanted to say that his new gym didn’t sound like it was the best place for him, if the people there would beat him up like this. But something told me this wasn’t the right time. The last thing I wanted was to start some big discussion about his gym. Right now he needed help.

 

“Your cut needs to be cleaned,” I said. I reached up and touched the skin around his eye, and he inhaled sharply.

 

“I’m fine,” he said, shaking me off.

 

I shook my head. “No, you’re not fine. If you don’t clean it, it’s going to get infected. And then not only are you going to have a scar, you’re going to be in a lot of trouble.” I looked at it. “You should probably go back to the emergency room and get it re-stitched.”

 

“Fuck that. I’m not spending all night in the hospital.”

 

I sighed. “Then you at least have to let me clean it.”

 

He grinned. “Fine. I’d love to play doctor with you.”

 

“I’m serious, Justin.”

 

“I am too.” He reached for me, pulling at the belt loop on my shorts. “Come here. Come to bed.” He tried to pull me down next to him, but I resisted.

 

Every part of my body was telling me to get out of there, to leave, to walk out of that apartment and not look back. When he’d said he’d needed me, a thrill had flown through me. But I was also terrified. I felt like I needed him, too. I couldn’t stop thinking about him, even when I wasn’t with him. And when I was with him, I felt like I could lose control at any second -- of my mind, my body, my senses, my life.

 

“You need to let me clean your cut,” I repeated firmly.

 

“After we nap.”

 

“No.” I shook my head. “If we lay down, we’re going to fall asleep. You need to let me clean your cut.”

 

He sighed. “And then you’ll spend the night?”

 

I hesitated. I wasn’t sure what he was asking. Did he mean spend the night spend the night? Like have sex with him spend the night? Or did he mean just spend the night the way we’d been doing?

 

Either way, it didn’t matter. I wanted to be with him.

 

I nodded.

 

He took my hand and led me to the bathroom.

 

“Do you have any peroxide?” I asked.

 

“Yeah. In the medicine cabinet.”

 

He started to take his shirt off, and my heart started racing. Why did he have to take his shirt off to get his cut cleaned? It was way too dangerous for us to be in such close quarters while he was bare-chested.

 

I found the peroxide and grabbed it, along with some cotton balls.

 

I uncapped the bottle. My hands were shaking, but somehow I was able to get some peroxide onto the cotton ball without dropping anything.

 

I turned away from the sink, and Justin took a step toward me, until he was so close that I could feel the heat coming off his body.

 

“This might sting,” I warned him.

 

He rolled his eyes, like he could take it. He kept his gaze on mine as I dabbed at his cut, being careful not to dislodge the stitches that were left. “You really need to get this re-stitched,” I said. “You’re going to have a scar.”

 

He shrugged. “Scars don’t bother me.”

 

They didn’t bother me either. In fact, I thought they were all kinds of sexy. I thought he was all kinds of sexy. We stood there like that for a long moment, his eyes never leaving mine as I cleaned out his wound.

 

I was finally getting a good look at him, now that we were in the light, and my eyes moved down to his stomach. There were bruises blooming on his sides, and I couldn’t help myself. I reached out and trailed my fingers lightly over his abs, marveling at how flat his stomach was. His skin felt cool, but the bruise was hot.

 

“Does it hurt?” I whispered.