Fiasco (Dirty Aces MC Book 6) by Lane Hart (black male authors .TXT) 📕

cat. So, I keep touching him – his face, his chest, his arms, and occasionally even his stomach, although that makes me feel a little indecent being so close to other parts of him.

“Mmm. Feels…good. So good,” he says, letting me know he’s still awake. More of those goosebumps break out over his arms; but based on his words, I guess it’s the nice kind.

I’ve never touched a man like this, just for the sake of touching him. It feels intimate in a way I’ve never been with anyone else. On the next tour of his body, I press my palm over the left side of his chest to feel his heartbeat. It’s strong. So strong that I lay my head on his chest to listen to the thumping. And while my lips are so close to his skin, I press them to his sternum once, twice. On the third time, a big hand grabs the back of my head, startling me so that I sit up and look down at his face. His eyes are open all the way and following me, no filmy haze over the deep brown irises from pain or medicine.

“You’re…alert,” I say in surprise.

“You’re a beautiful angel,” he says all in one breath.

“I’m a nurse,” I clarify with a smile. “Do you remember what happened?”

“You were touching me and kissing me.”

“I…I meant the shooting,” I say as heat suddenly warms my cheeks.

“Yeah, I remember. Two bullets.”

“That’s right. You had a fever, probably an infection, but I’ve been giving you antibiotics.”

“Thank you,” he says with a squeeze to the back of my head, reminding me his fingers are still there. “No one’s ever taken care of me like this.”

“No one?” I repeat, and he shakes his head.

“Not even your mother?”

He shakes his head again.

“I’m so sorry.”

Phillip gives me a smile just as someone knocks on the door.

“I…I should probably go get that. It’s probably Nash or one of your other friends coming to check on you.”

“Okay,” he agrees and starts to untangle his fingers from the back of my hair before he tugs on it again. “Wait. What’s your name, angel?”

“Joanna,” I tell him with a smile. “And I’m so glad you’re feeling better, Phillip.”

Chapter Four

Fiasco

“Oh, ah, good morning,” Joanna, my guardian angel, says when I blink my eyes open and inhale the sweet scent of lavender. At least my eyes are not as heavy as the few times before when I’ve caught only quick glimpses of her before she disappears. Her face is close enough to kiss. And now that I think about it, my lips feel damp.

“Angel. Were you…did you just kiss me?” I ask her, my throat scratchy from sleeping for what felt like days.

“What? No, of course not,” she says as she starts to move away.

“Don’t. Stay,” I say, reaching for her arm to see if she’s real or I’m imagining her like I imagined her lips on mine and her hands on my chest and stomach. When my fingers wrap around her warm, delicate arm, I’m relieved. “You’re real.”

“Ah, yeah. I’m real. You’ve been talking to me,” she replies with a grin. “How are you feeling?”

“Like last week’s trash after it’s been smushed in the compactor thing,” I tell her honestly since I ache all over, but mostly in my side and leg. I’m afraid to even turn my head in case the pain starts up again. “Wait, what day is it?” I ask in a rush.

“It’s Tuesday, why?” my angel asks.

“Shit!” I exclaim, trying to push myself into a sitting position no matter how bad it may hurt.

“What’s wrong? What do you need?” Joanna asks.

“I need to go! I’m missing work, and I missed Sunday! Fuck, I never miss Sunday!”

“You’re recovering from two gunshot wounds. I think your boss will give you as much time off as you need!” she says as I throw my legs over the side of the bed, gathering up the courage to try and stand on them.

“You don’t understand. I don’t get days off. I only get paid for the days I work, for the hours I work!” I shout as I push myself up and a jolt of fire shoots up my leg and side. “Fuck!”

“Slow down, Phillip,” Joanna says, calling me by my real name. It’s so unusual that it doesn’t even sound right to my ears. “You can’t go to work. I think Nash and the guys called in for you. They’ve got it all covered.”

She’s right about that one thing. I’m in too much pain to lift my arms to put a shirt on, so I sure as shit won’t be climbing up on any roofs anytime soon. Reluctantly, I sit back down on the edge of the bed.

“Fine. I may not be able to go to work, but I do need to see someone. Can you give me a ride?” I look over my shoulder to ask her.

“I’m not sure if you’re up for going out just yet.”

“Please,” I beg. “It’s important or I wouldn’t ask. Trust me, I wish I didn’t have to get out of this bed, but I have to.”

“Will it take long?” she asks.

“No. Just two stops, five or ten minutes at most.”

Her palm comes up and cups my cheek, then slides up to my forehead like she’s touched me a ton of times and it’s no big deal to her, but it is to me. I like her hands on me, a little too much. “Your fever is gone.” She sighs, making her pretty pink lips part, and then she says, “Okay, we can try to go out, but only if you promise to tell me if it’s too much too soon.”

“Huh?” I ask since I had forgotten what we were talking about.

“You wanted to leave. Unless you changed your mind?”

“No. I do. I didn’t,” I say in a rush when I remember. Jesus, she’s going to think I’m an idiot. And I am; I just don’t want her to know that yet.

“You’re