LHM

"You're still mad about the 'old lady' thing."

"No, I'm not." I scrubbed the countertop even harder, determined to put a hole through the damn thing before I admitted that I was still pissed at him.

Twelve-thousand-year-old marble be damned—it had nothing against my rage.

"You're full of shit. I can tell when you're mad."

He was sitting at the table. Stitches in his face. Bruises blotching his skin and two black eyes, watching me carefully. We'd barely been home a full day, and both of us were worn thin. I turned around, throwing my rage and my rag into the sink.

"Old lady." I slumped against the counter, crossing my arms and staring at the floor between us.

"It was a joke."

"It wasn't funny."

"It wasn't. It was dumb. It just came out."

His medication-drunk words ran in my ears, dumb kid dumb kid dumb kid, and I swallowed hard.

"I know. I'm just…" I waved my hands in the air around myself, hoping to encompass the whole chaotic turmoil that was me on a good day, much less a bad one.

"Don't go small on me." His blackened eyes narrowed. "What should I have called you? On television… what do you think I should have said?"

"Girlfriend."

"Lame." He scoffed.

"Sweetheart."

His face went blank. "Seriously? I'm not gonna call you sweetheart. Or woman, or my life partner or whatever cutesy PG term you wanna give it. But I'm also not gonna get on a mic and call you my fuckhot piece of perfect ass either." He raised his less-busted eyebrow. "That shit is private."

I watched his eyes travel all down the front of me and then all the way back up.

"Turn around." His voice broke, gravelly and low.

"What?"

"Turn around." He stood. His steadying fingers trailed the length of the table as he stepped toward me, swaying a bit at the end, still unsteady on his feet from the spin in his head and the pain meds I kept feeding him. He careened into me, crushing me into the counter. "Please."

"Jacy will bust us if you try this again."

"Jack and I have a system. I give her five bucks before school, and she'll wander Walgreen's before she walks home. Turn around." His mouth found my neck, and his hands found my apparently perfect tits, and he ground shamelessly into me.

"That's where she's getting the candy from." I'd wondered about it when I found her stash, and I had been regularly stealing from it ever since.

"That girl is frugal as fuck—she's gonna bargain to get every bang for her buck. I just bought us twenty extra minutes." He pushed harder, fingers slow and insistent. "Say 'thank you.'"

"What is with you?" I laughed, holding his head like I could check his concussion by feel alone. It was probably the drugs because he was slower and harder and sloppier than normal, and it was so hot. I wanted so much more of it. But we were so gonna get busted.

"These shorts are tiny, and I swear you're fucking glowing." He fumbled with the button against my stomach and managed to get his whole hand into my underwear before I wanted to stop him. One slick wet swipe up the length of me, and I scrambled off.

"Ok, we are definitely getting caught." I was panting, and he was licking his lips, and there was nowhere to go in this tiny house to escape Jacy.

Maybe the basement wasn't such a bad idea.

"I'm telling you, twenty extra minutes. That gives us an hour." He said it like an entire lifetime of orgasms could be earned in that time. Like it was a challenge. He leaned close my ear. "I need a shower."

"You should be paying me for this home health care I'm providing."

"Come on, Ratchett. Let's go."

AN:

Inspired by the time Mr Bee called me a fuckhot piece of perfect ass on stage in the middle of a gig.

I still have not quite forgiven him for that one.

Hands in the air for HH.

xo

HBM