Chapter Two: Wildly Fluctuating Bodily Temperatures

As Butcher slept in his shocked, blood-loss state, his mind capitalized on sorting through his memories and playing double features behind his closed eyes as his body began the slow process of healing itself.

Butcher slept in the room alone, his fingers twitching, no one hearing his small sounds and seeing the tiny shakes of his unconscious head.

Within his healing body, a rush of engorged white blood cells swirled through him, desperately trying to fight the broad-spectrum antibiotic she had slipped into his vascular system earlier.

His mind played a slow-motion memory in painful repetition.

Young Billy Butcher was back in the family kitchen as a child, bored and angry that he couldn't play outside because of the weather. Young Billy was kicking his mother's antique hutch as she had her back to him rolling out pie dough.

"Billy please, go play with your brother in the other room."

Young Billy answered only in a petulant grunt and kicked the hutch harder.

The following moments were all the result of an insolent child acting out but created a divide between young Billy and his mother.

His mother had turned her eyes away from the flattened dough when she heard young Billy's shoe make contact with the hutch.

Her hands flew to her mouth and she stifled a shout as a glass hummingbird that had belonged to her great-grandmother was toppled from the top shelf and fell to the floor and shattered into hundreds of beautiful, sharp shards.

Young Billy had seen his mother's eyes fill with tears at the weight of the instant loss of nostalgia, tangible value, and connection to those who now resided in the land of the dead.

As a child he couldn't apologize, he could only watch his mother sink to her knees and gather every last glass bit of the shattered fragility while he stood a wordless spectator.

Hours later his eyes opened as many of the other residents of the former auto shop turned safe house also rose to face a day with the million ways it could go with an abducted Vought scientist.

On the other side of the abandoned auto shop, Olivia rose from the uncomfortable surface of the cushioned bench and stretched her arms high overhead, hearing her joints creak in protest. She was moving her neck in slow circles when Annie appeared in the doorway with a Styrofoam cup of coffee.

Olivia couldn't help but smile at the hot French roast, even though it was scorched it was still warm as it spread through her upper body and full of much-needed caffeine. She wrinkled her nose at the lingering bitterness as she smoothed her hair back and half-braided it into place.

"I should check on the patient," Olivia said as she cleared the corners of her eyes from grit that accumulated with her on and off stretch of sleep.

Annie nodded, "yes, I'll come with you."

Olivia paused, noting to herself that Annie wasn't asking but stating. Olivia was so new to Vought and still wasn't through her manual of Vought Supes from the past, present and in-development. She recognized Annie from her recent song that was on every radio station. Even being able to infiltrate its way into a classic rock station, nestled between the Fab Four and the guitarist who looks like he's five million years old and smokes five packs a day.

Olivia slipped on some generic tennis shoes and followed Annie to the office that had been turned into a pseudo-hospital room.

Annie sat in a wobbly chair and wordlessly allowed Olivia free reign under her powerful gaze.

Olivia washed her hands well and approached Butcher as he dozed. He stirred awake when her bare fingers pressed against the inside of his wrist and counted his pulse.

Butcher opened his eyes the smallest amount and stared at her through his lash-framed view.

He watched Olivia look at her obscenely expensive watch as she counted his pulse. He let his eyes trace every curve and angle of her features. He watched her pink tongue dart out and moisten her lips before she pressed them together and slid on a pair of generic latex gloves.

"How are you feeling?" she asked suddenly, catching Butcher somewhat off-guard.

"Sore," he said bluntly and gave a low groan as she moved his stiff shirt, saturated with dark blood, out of the way.

Olivia muttered to herself as she pulled off the dressing and leaned her face close to assess the edges of his wound and her not very straight stitching. Butcher tried to remind himself that she was a Supe saver, a fucking Supe creator. "She's probably a Supe fucker," he thought to himself and then lost all ability to think as he felt her hot exhale against the bare skin of his side as she sniffed the air around his wound for the smell of bacterial replication or potential for viral amplification. She closed her eyes, searching the air for the scent of the beginning of infection and need for emergency medical care.

"Do you feel comfortable enough for me to get you into some cleaner clothes and get all the blood off of you?"

Butcher completely opened his eyes, thinking of her sucking a Supe's cock as he nodded, keeping his expression neutral. He was aware of Annie and her quiet potential as she sat politely in the corner, her legs crossed at the ankles.

Butcher watched her hands as she pushed the stained clothing from him and covered his bare upper half with another scratchy basket as she soaked some of the shop towels with some generic soap and began cleaning off Butcher's blood-stained midsection.

They were both silent and he remained completely still as she had to scrub fairly assertively on some blood that had dried like plaster to his naked skin.

Butcher watched her replace the blanket over his upper half after she dried him off and turned her attention to his blood covered hands and forearms.

"Why the Supe fetish?" Butcher wanted to ask as he watched Olivia scrub the coagulated blood from under his blunt, uneven fingernails.

He brought his eyes to her face when she spoke without looking up at him. "Do you have any nausea, gut issues, headaches, vision issues?"

"Nothing like that, I've felt fucking worse," he boasted.

Olivia snorted, "good for you."

Annie kept her eyes on Butcher, concerned even in his diminished physical state that he would start hurling the hateful thoughts she could practically see dancing on the tip of his tongue.

Butcher watched Olivia pay the same attention to each of his nails from his ragged cuticles to the rough pads of his thumbs.

He lapsed into silence and trained his gaze on her instead of speaking .

Olivia could feel the weight of his eyes and wanted to shift nervously under his penetrating gaze. She kept reminding herself that Annie was something that would keep her safe and chastised herself again for neglecting to review that fucking five-hundred-page manual.

Olivia finished changes the bandages on Butcher's side and followed Annie out as MM and Frenchie passed through the doorway after them.

Olivia could feel the weight of Butcher's eyes boring deep holes into her back long after she had departed the small room.

Several days passed as Butcher healed at a remarkable pace.

Olivia was very pleased with how well the incision was knitting, it would still leave a scar, a crooked scar because the last stitches she had performed were on a cadaver.

Butcher's anger for what he had now imagined at her hosting annual Supe gang bangs was in direct contradiction with the growing feelings of what started out as genuine gratitude for the retention of his life and rapidly became more.

Butcher found himself to be just as angry that his eyes found and memorized any bit of bare flesh he could find, he longed to trace the line of her jaw and run his thumb over her lower lip.

After a total of eight days in the auto shop and plenty of rest, Butcher was up and moving around mostly with ease.

Butcher took great advantage of the mobility he had in between their regrouping to spy on Olivia.

He found his favorite was watching her brush her hair. Butcher committed the sound of the leaking shop shower to memory and made sure he was positioned just right as she sat on two broken down benches she had worked into a cozy-ish nest.

Butcher held his breath and closed his eyes briefly, taking in a deep breath as the same tingling sensation washed over him when he opened his eyes and drank in the sight of her running a plastic brush from the crown of her head to the tips of her dark brown, nearly black when it was damp, fall of hair.

Butcher felt himself nearly salivate as she shook the damp strands apart and smoothed a hand to fumble with the zipper of his pants. He looked around before he pulled his rapidly hardening cock free. He quietly spit into his palm before he squeezed and stroked the length of his thick hardness.

Butcher focused on keeping his breath steady and soft as she continued the long strokes of the plastic brush through the silken strands. He increased the speed of his stroking, feeling a hot coil tighten and pull his balls up close to his body as his climax was all but assured.

Butcher longed to run his hands through her hair, trace the strands from the crown of her head, down their entire length to the middle of her bottom.

He came in several hot spurts into a paper napkin he had randomly shoved in his pocket from one of the many fast-food places that had been the only source of food lately.

Butcher let his breathing return to normal before he shoved his cock back and zipped his pants closed. He walked slowly to the room that serving as a sort of office and room to plan the deaths of fucking Supes and anything that would harm Vought.

Frenchie, MM, the Female and Hughie were all gathered around a small tablet that was showing footage of what was being called domestic terrorism in the daring daylight raid of the Vought facility.

Butcher was paying attention when the news anchor began speaking with other doctors that were onsite during the abduction of one of the Vought Scientists.

Everyone fell quiet as a picture of a smiling Doctor Olivia Phillips appeared on the screen. The news anchor went on to say that she was a brand-new graduate and very new to Vought.

The anchor directed his microphone to a handsome doctor identified as Craig Dalton.

"She's a valuable asset here, we're all very much concerned about her safety and are asking whoever has her to please realize that she is new here, might not be the kind of scientist you were hoping to poach."

He ended with a, "please don't hurt her."

The news anchor returned to being framed within the screen as he began to repeat earlier top news.

Butcher sat heavily in a free chair. "Where's the cunt Supe saver?" he growled as he reached for a half-empty bottle of whiskey and set it down with a quarter left.

"She's hanging out with Annie," Hughie said softly when no one else volunteered an answer.

"Hanging out? Are they braiding each other's fucking hair?" Butcher barked.

Hughie ducked his shoulders, "I think they were just going to talk."

Butcher scoffed and grabbed the bottle and walked slowly from the room. "Hey, aren't we going to start discussing our next step, especially with that Vought doctor?"

"You mean that Supe slag?" Butcher grumbled as he returned to the table and took a few burning swallows of the amber alcohol before slamming the bottle on the table.

Butcher watched MM and Frenchie point out other various Vought facilities and how they may be able to parley their abducted scientist for their benefit.

Butcher's eyes fell on his clean nails and hands that she had spent a long time paying close attention.

No one could come to anything agreeable and irritations and tempers flared before MM suggested a lengthy timeout and coming back to the table with ideas. Everyone agreed and went their separate ways.

Hughie flanked Butcher as they walked towards where Annie and Olivia were hanging out.

Annie jumped to her feet and immediately, visibly relaxed when Hughie closely followed Butcher's entrance.

"Where is she?" Butcher barked when he found no one in the room with Annie.

"She's cleaning up a bit," Annie said as she gestured towards the closed door of the adjoining previously staff only bathroom.

It wasn't unnoticed by Butcher how much Annie and Hughie wanted to up in each other's arms.

"You two can get out of her, I can babysit for a while."

Hughie and Annie exchanged a questionable glance as Butcher added. "I won't hurt that cunt, even though she makes Supes."

Hughie and Annie reluctantly left, and Butcher waited until the sounds of their footsteps receded before opening the bathroom door that Olivia neglected to lock, trusting that Annie would keep her safe.

He opened the door to Olivia's back as she leaned over the sink and rinsed her face. Butcher watched her blindly reach for a washcloth to the right of the sink and press it to her face.

She nearly shouted when she looked up and found his broad frame reflected behind her.

Olivia continued to press the cloth to her damp face, unsure of what to say, completely afraid of uttering the wrong words.

"You're the supe doctor?" Butcher finally rasped angrily.

"What?" she said squinting at his reflected strength.

"A supe maker?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You're a cunt that makes supes."

His words felt like a slap as he continued in her shocked silence.

"Or are you some feckless cunt that can't have her own wee ones and buys little ones from others and pump them full of Compound V?"

Olivia blinked rapidly as he lumbered towards her, moving with dangerous fluidity despite the fresh physical damage. Olivia's chest tightened in fear and she couldn't breathe as he roughly spun her towards him and grabbed her upper arms. He started to shake her as he shouted, spit flying from his lips as he imagined Olivia creating labs full of little Homelander's and soulless Supes and then hopping on whatever Supe cock she could find to fill any or all of her holes.

"I don't, what, I…," she began to stammer until Butcher tightened his hands and pushed her against the pitted bathroom wall, her breath nearly left her lungs with the impact of being slammed against the graffiti-laden drywall.

"Enough," came the booming voice of MM as he gave Butcher a strong NHL rivaling hip check and made him stumble away from Olivia.

"She works with Supes and you fucking brought her here?" Butcher barked as he regained his balance.

"She saved your fucking life."

Butcher went to fire a nasty report and paused as though he had run into a glass wall. "What?"

"How the fuck do you think you're still alive?"

Butcher returned his gaze to Olivia and tried to clear the anger from his eyes to see her more clearly. He narrowed his eyes as he remembered fragmented moments of her green-gloved fingers digging the bullet out of his side and the cool touch of her hand against his forehead. He pressed a hand to his side as he recalled closing his hand around her fingers around her wrist until a couple of his fingers overlapped.

He felt a tingling sensation in his brain as all of his fragmented memories collided and he remembered the very moment he met her, every word they exchanged, the sound of her breathing and the feel of her touch. New neural pathways buzzed in his brain as they were created, and he squeezed his eyes shut long enough that Olivia felt a flash of concern override her fear for a moment.

"Are you okay?" she asked breathlessly and moved further behind MM's broad, muscular body.

"Go get yourself something to drink, but stay close," MM said quietly to Olivia.

Butcher's eyes tracked Olivia as she slunk out of the room.

Neither man knew that she didn't go far and positioned herself where she could hear and see them when they continued talking in the wake of her perceived dismissal.

MM waited a few seconds before shaking his head and holding his hands out to the sides.

"Lay off her a bit, she's been nothing but polite and helpful."

"Lay off? She's a Supe creating cunt."

"Look, yes she's Vought, but she still saved your life and hasn't done anything suspicious."

They glared at each other.

"Just chill man," MM finally said.

"I'll chill, but the second she's not helpful, I'm putting a bullet in her brain," Butcher said and tapped his forehead.

MM shook his head and left Butcher to his vengeful fantasies.

Butcher was draining the bottle of whiskey when he heard a scuffling sound close by. He found Olivia fumbling at her discarded lab coat pocket for her phone and nearly fumble it as she tried to tap out a call.

Butcher closed the distance between them with ferocious speed despite the touch of alcohol that was turning clingy.

He slapped the phone out of her hand before she sprinted away from her, slipping out the rear entrance ramp of one of the abandoned garage bays.

Butcher urged himself to move faster when he heard the metallic jingling of the stolen van keys before the sunlight shone on them clutched tightly in her scared hand.

"Stop," he shouted as she scrambled at the driver's side door handle and yanked open the metal door with an oil-needing squeal. Olivia nearly shouted when she got the engine turned over and pushed the accelerator to kiss the dirty floor mat. The nearly bald tires spun and smoked before the whole van bucked and lurched before she shot out of the parking lot of the safe house.

Olivia practically hugged the steering wheel as she urged the lumbering van to get its ass in gear, wildly looking around and trying to figure out where she was.

Her heart might've actually stopped for a few seconds when the steel click of a switch blade and then the cool kiss of the metal blade against her throat and Butcher's growl followed soon after.

"Stop the van," he growled against her ear, his exhale hot against her skin.

Olivia froze, her back grew rigid as her hands tightened on the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white.

She didn't lift her foot from the accelerator but also didn't press it further to the floor.

Before Butcher could assert his threat in a more demonstrative fashion, an incredibly loud pyroclastic explosion shook the entire van and Olivia struggled to keep it on the road, nearly scraping the guardrail.

Butcher looked out the rear window as the safe house was consumed in a fiery display of majesty from the combined efforts of Homelander and Stormfront.

"Get us moving," Butcher wheezed and heard the engine accelerate as it hungrily gulped the leaded fuel and increased the distance between them and the now inferno that they had both just recently occupied.

The flames licked high into the air, extra flashes of color as different caustic chemicals exploded and spread their fatal debris in the air.

Butcher eventually crawled into the passenger seat, not saying anything as he clicked his seat belt into place and closed the dangerous blade before tucking it away in his boot.

Olivia had relaxed her grip somewhat on the wheel but felt a swift return of her tension when his words broke the sound of the tires devouring the miles between them and certain death.

"Why did you run?" he finally asked.

Olivia glanced in the rearview mirror before answering. "I heard you," she said in a hesitating, broken tone.

"Heard me what?"

Olivia tapped her forehead. "I saw you and in that moment it seemed worth the risk to run if I was going to die anyway."

Olivia stared straight ahead as Butcher's eyes absorbed her, the rapid pulse in her throat, the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed shallowly and the sweat that had sprouted on her forehead.

Butcher didn't get a chance to reply when the van swerved sharply as the rear tire blew out.

Olivia was able to keep the van mostly on the road and eventually could yank the emergency brake and stop them from moving any further.

Butcher's hand shot out and snatched the keys from the ignition before getting out of the van and grumbled as he fetched the spare, tire-iron, and jack.

Before he started on the tire he walked back to the passenger door and stared at her for a few heartbeats before he spoke.

"Get out of the van," he ordered and pointed to a spot next to him.

Olivia slowly slid from the driver's seat and joined him at the rear of the van as he produced to loosen the lug nuts.

She looked around the desolate area and forest a good sprint away.

Olivia bit her lower lip and with a stab of resolve snatched the handle of the jack from the floor and swung it at his head before she took off sprinting into the growing darkness, dry leaves crunching under her feet as she scrambled away from him.

"Goddammit," Butcher said between clenched teeth. She had barely grazed the side of his head in her haste to escape and he sprang quickly to his feet, in immediate pursuit.

"Stop running," he shouted as her departing feet smashed twigs and foliage as she willed herself to move faster.

Olivia's lungs began to burn. She nearly stumbled over a fallen log and cursed as a tree branch sharply whipped her cheek and felt a wave of fear when his voice sounded again, seemingly closer.

"Stop running," he yelled again and knew he was drawing closer when he heard her piercing shout as a thorny bush scratched her arm.

He willed himself to move faster when he heard her give a sharp cry of pain followed immediately by a large splash. Butcher found her lying on her side in the bitterly cold water of a naturally occurring creek.

Butcher held his hands away from him as she cowered and stifled her sobs as she shivered in the frightfully chilly water.

Olivia flinched and waved her arms weakly at him as he approached. Butcher slowed his pace at her open display of fear.

"I'm just going to make sure you're not injured," he murmured and sank down next to her. She grew still at his close proximity and stayed completely rigid as he moved his hands delicately but thoroughly from her cold toes, both feet now bare, to the crown of her head. Once he was satisfied that she had only sustained minor bumps and bruises, he slid his arms around and under her until he could lift her easily into his arms.

Butcher felt her start to stiffen and spoke quickly, hoping to diffuse any struggling. "You need to get warm; I'm going to carry you to the van."

His tone didn't invite discussion and they were both silent as he carried her, she was resolutely still the entire time and every time he spared her beautiful pale face a glance, she had her eyes squeezed shut.

She opened her eyes when he had to shift her to open the rear doors. He settled her shivering form onto the bare, metal seat.

Olivia's body was past the point of trying not to show how cold she was. "You need to warm up now," Butcher muttered and rushed around to the driver's side of the car. He cranked the heater to the highest setting and returned to the back where he firmly but carefully pulled her into the circle of his arms.

Despite the bone deep cold, she managed to stiffen and started to struggle until he asserted his strength and kept her locked in place against him. After she stopped squirming, he began to tug and pull at her wet clothes. "You need to warm up," he growled and forced a gasp from her throat as he roughly handled her, yanking her wet clothes free, ripping, and tearing the fabric, anxious to feel her bare skin.

Olivia knew there was not much chance of preventing him from doing whatever he wanted, she pushed at him and spit a healthy glob of mucus up at him.

"She saves Supes," Butcher thought as his eyes darkened with a potent combination of fiery lust and furious anger as he easily asserted his tremendous strength as he yanked the last of her wet clothes free and briskly rubbed his hands against her cold nearly naked flesh. "She's a Supe groupie cunt," he reminded himself as he moved his hands over her bare chilly skin.

He fought to not yank her panties and plain grey free but knew she was nearly past the point of hearing him as it was.

"You need to warm up," Butcher mumbled as he groped his hand blindly on the floor and grabbed a faded flannel button-up shirt.

Olivia tried in vain to cover her near nudity until he growled in protest as he captured her wrists and pushed her hands above her head and pinned them against the seat, exposing almost all of her to his eyes. He transferred the grip of her wrists to one of his strong, large hands and used his free hand to rub slow circles on her chilly skin.

"Is anyone going to miss you?" Butcher thought before he spoke. "Are you close with your family?"

Olivia's belly clenched painfully, "is he going to kill me?" she thought before speaking carefully, her teeth chattering from a combination of fear and her near-frozen state. "Most of them are on the other coast, we're all not really close," she admitted.

He fought a satisfied smile at how easy it would now be to pluck her completely free from her previous life and kill her or fuck her first and then kill her. Olivia shuddered when his free hand smoothed around to resume moving in slow circles against the curve of her lower back, urging warmth to return.

"Can you please let me sit up?" she whispered. Her breath hitched when he dropped his head to the curve of her neck, his exhale hot with each of his spoken words as he let more of his weight pin her to the dirty van floor before speaking. "Are you through running away?"

Olivia wordlessly nodded and held her breath as he remained just as silent. She grew anxious under his unreadable gaze. "Please," she stammered, her nerves growing to the point of hysteria.

As Butcher stared down at her, dark, angry thoughts took over his thought process as stared down at her, wondering how many Supes she had begged to fuck her.

Butcher had no idea he was angry at a version of Olivia that was in diametric opposition to the woman he was crushing with his formidable frame.

"I will after," he growled as he slid his free hand down to cup and squeeze her bottom before shifting and sliding his fingers up the inside of her thigh.

Butcher grunted as he kept his grip around her wrists ironclad and used the weight of his body and brute force to force her thighs apart and insinuated himself closer to her barely covered intimacy.

"After?" she murmured before the realization of his words meaning washed over her and she instantly renewed her struggling.

"You can't run off like that again," Butcher suppressed a groan as he moved his free hand to fumble at his zipper.

"Stop, you don't have to do this."

"I do though," Butcher muttered. "I need you to understand that you can't run away from me ever again," he murmured and relaxed his weight against her as he yanked on the metal tab of his zipper until he could pull his hardening cock free. He moved his hand from stroking himself to further rigidity and clamped his hand over her mouth, squashing any further noise.

"Calm down," he murmured against her ear, flicking his tongue against the soft lobe before moving his lips to rest over her temple. "This can't be any worse than taking Supe cock," he growled angrily and yanked at the cotton cup of her bra, pulling the fabric away from her breast until he could expose her hard, pink nipple.

His words broke her out of her fugue.

"What did you say?"

Butcher paused, her tone not that of a lying liar's denial.

"You create and save Supes, I'm sure you fuck just as many."

Olivia felt a flush of anger fill her face and embarrassment at his accusation.

"I've never laid a finger on a Supe unless I'm drawing blood or running a diagnostic test," she spit up at him.

"It'd be easy to find out if you're lying," he rasped and smoothed his free hand to cup her panty covered intimacy as he added. "If you're a Supe fucker, I'm sure your cunt will reflect it," he growled brashly and tugged at the edge of the simple cotton panties.

"Stop, I'm not what you're saying, I haven't even worked there that long," Olivia started until her anxiety took over and she began babbling and crying simultaneously, tripping over her words as she couldn't wipe the tears from her flushed face.

Olivia's breath grew ragged as she felt his rigid cock press against the inside of her thigh. "You know I could just fuck you right now, prove you're a lying Supe fucking loose cunt and slit your throat?"

"I know," she managed and looked anywhere but his face as she added in a defeated tone. "Please don't, I'm not the person you think I am, I'm not," she breathed shakily.

"Who are you?" he rasped and pressed his rigidity against her panty covered pink femininity.

"I'm just a scientist," she stammered. "I run lab tests and report on cell structures," she added on a broken gasp.

"You were able to keep me alive," he groaned as he rhythmically pressed his hard cock against her barely covered tight, wet entrance.

"My father is a medical examiner, I haven't practiced much clinical practice in a while," she gasped with how close he was to sliding inside her and entirely possessing her.

Butcher danced his fingertips up the front of her body and yanked her bra free until the rounded flesh of her breasts were completely exposed to him.

"That's better," he growled and closed a hand around her breast and squeezed as his thumb teased her nipple.

Butcher lifted his hand from her bare breast when she completely dissolved into body-wracking sobs and tried to choke out her words, growing more hysterical with each spoken syllable.

"I was just working. I was going to be off at six. I had leftover spring rolls for dinner, The Loudest Singer was on at eight. I was washing the bed linen this Saturday, everything's changed, it's all too much."

She heard her voice break and if she was standing, would've fallen to the floor as the adrenaline left her body weak and shaking.

Olivia gasped for air as Butcher abruptly released her hands and helped her roll onto her side as he tucked the long-sleeved flannel shirt around her.

Butcher felt helpless all of a sudden, he found himself wondering what it would mean if he believed what she was saying.

Olivia's breath caught in her throat as he pulled her back in his arms and crushed her to the front of his body.

She covered her mouth and tried to stifle her sobs as her abruptly altered reality continued to break her apart.

Billy felt her tension rapidly ebb and flow as he kept her wrapped up in his unbreakable embrace until her tears subsided and her breathing returned to a normal rate.

He shifted and pulled her onto her back until he could find her eyes. Olivia pushed futilely at his hands as he brushed the hair off her clammy forehead.

He felt completely helpless and unsure of what to do as she dropped her eyes away from his and sniffed hard, thankful to have her hands free to wipe at her eyes with one of the red flannel sleeves.

Billy gripped her chin and lifted her face to meet his. He spoke in a gruff whisper as he smoothed the rough pad of his thumb over her lower lip.

"We have a lot to discuss and an even further drive," he started until he had her complete attention before he continued. "We'll return to this conservation when we're further away."

Olivia nodded, grateful inside when he climbed away from her. She blushed and averted her gaze as he shoved his cock back behind his zipper before he helped her settle back onto the front passenger seat.

He adjusted the heater vents as she tucked the shirt around herself.

"Are you warm enough?" he asked and added after she nodded. "I'm going to finish changing the tire."

Olivia watched him methodically change the tire in the side mirror. "Is this the last day of your life?" she asked the blowing heater vents.