(work in progress, will upload the rest this week, after it's had a proper proofread/edit)
"The shirt, Cage. Now."
Johnny buried his wince with a smirk before crossing his arms behind his head and stretching his legs out onto the coffee table. " Naw, I'm good." Any body else, he would have removed the shirt and let them examine the cut that started mid sternum and wound down low over his torso. But not with her, not his Sonya. Aggravating her was too easy and too fun to pass up.
Besides, it wasn't like he wouldn't give in and do as she asked...eventually. The truth, obvious to everybody but Sonya, was that she could have him in line following orders like one of her soldiers. Prettier women, nicer women, funnier, sexier ladies of all types had throw themselves at him most of his adult life. Only this fierce little blond made him want to slay dragons and elder gods to protect her and then fuck her through the floor.
"I saw you flinch when you sat down, dammit. You're injured so let me help you. Take off the shirt." she demanded again.
"You first." he threw back. Anger was what he expected not the delicate blush, barely there, that swept over her face. Interesting.
For a moment, it seemed like she actually might do it, pull off her drab military tee. She was funny that way, his Sonya, never backing down from a challenge. But the moment passed and she cocked her head to the side in that way of hers that said she meant business. "Fine. Then I'll take it from you."
Even better. " Come and get it, babe." He didn't think she would but...
"You don't think I will ?" She didn't wait for his answer, just strode over and straddled his waist. "Could have all ready patched you up in the time it's taken to argue like a stubborn jackass. You can be a real shithead sometimes."
Patch him up? That dull pain was all ready forgotten as soon as she settled her ass on his lap. Her fingers were brushing over his stomach, pushing away the fabric obstructing her view...It didn't matter why, she was touching him. Voluntarily. For the first time in ages. Quickly and efficiently, she'd removed his tee shirt and examined the broken skin with a featherlight, almost tender touch.
"John" she admonished though her voice was now gentle. "This looks bad. We should get you checked out..."
"I'm fine." He'd had many worse injuries than this. A little jagged cut? Wouldn't even make the top 10.
"Do you still have that first aid kit in the bathroom? At least me me clean it." Sonya started to get up, but he caught her by the waist. "Hey, c'mon. I don't like seeing you hurt."
He wanted to tell her it would pain him more if she stopped touching him right now but he was terrible at that stuff, saying things and looking vulnerable in front of her. Rejection was hard enough when he was teasing her, pushing her buttons to get a reaction. Putting his feelings out there and getting them stomped on, again,...not really up for that today. "Kiss it better?" he teased.
As expected, she rolled her eyes; the faintest shadow of a grin hovered at the corners of her mouth. "The things I put up with..." Again, she surprised him. Grasping his chin in one hand she turned his face so that he was looking directly at her. Then, her gaze holding his, she brushed her lips over his. "I'm not kissing an open wound, so that's going to have to work."
All he could do was groan in self deprecation. Even in this, where he set out to annoy her, she got the upper hand, albeit unknowingly. That delectable butt, rubbing on hi-
"What? Does it hurt?" She shifted again and he bit back another groan. "Johnny?"
Hell. She said Johnny. Strong fingers suddenly gripped her backside, catching her off guard and pushing her forward into his chest. A sharp tug on her long ponytail raised her face into his, only a breath between. Waiting. All he wanted was one kiss freely given, one response not taken or cajoled from her.
That hesitant touch finally came, timid at first then more possessive. He held himself still, intent on letting her explore and take. All those years before, when they'd been married, there'd been no finesse, just a desperate man trying to tie her to him with the intensity of how he felt. Sonya liked control; he knew now that he had to give that to her, let her set the pace, until she was ready for him to take over.
But when she kissed along his jaw, whispered "Johnny" his resolve started to fray. One smack to that ass was all the warning he could give.
"I have work." she punctuated her words with a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "You need stitches." another kiss by his ear. "What are we doing?"
"This is us not arguing for 5 minutes." Words never made a dent with Sonya; only through this physical pull between them did she ever listen to him.
"Supposed to be taking it slowly. Not pawing each other like horny teenagers." But her nails were curling into his shoulders and her breasts pushing into his chest and it was over. Work on the verbal side of their relationship would have to wait. She kissed him again and he seized control; with only a few stumbles, he managed to stand, fumbling one more time as her legs wound around his waist.
"Behruhmm." he said into her mouth.