The Drazen World: Dominate (Kindle Worlds Novella) by Tara West Page B

   
    He ran his fingers over my injury, his gentle touch causing my flesh to rise. I hated the objective way he looked at my elbow, as if all these years working at a hospital had desensitized him to my suffering.
    I bit my bottom lip as a drop of blood dripped onto his jeans. “I’m not responsible for your dry cleaning.”
    He clucked his tongue. “You’re going to need stitches.”
    “Stitches?”
    “‘A quick trip to Rodeo Drive,’ you said.” He put the car into drive and rolled his eyes. “I’m taking you to the hospital.” 
    He pulled out into heavy traffic. The cunt in the convertible was only one car ahead.
    “Hang on. I’m getting her license plate.” I grabbed my phone and jumped out of the car. I ran up behind her and snatched a picture of the plate, chuckling under my breath when she panicked and put the top up.
    I laughed out loud when the Botoxed bitch honked at the flower truck to get out of her way. Where exactly was the truck supposed to go? There was a line of cars ahead of them.
    I got back in Brad’s car and strapped on my seatbelt. “She is so paying for my deductible.”
    Brad shook his head, snickering. “Ariana, if she shops on Rodeo Drive, she’s probably got lawyers on retainer just to wipe her ass.”
    I jutted my elbow toward his smug face. “This was assault with a deadly weapon.”
    “I’m sure you said something to her that inflicted ten times as much pain.”
    I turned up my chin and inwardly smiled. “I did.”
    He held out a silencing palm, a dimple puckering his smooth skin as one corner of his mouth hitched up in a grin. “I don’t want to know.” He pushed my arm off his console. “Don’t drip on my leather.”
    How rude! Brad Thorensen, you have officially moved to my DNF list. Such a shame, too, that I had to let such a prime piece of man meat go to waste in the land of the Do Not Fucks, but if it was one thing I despised, it was insensitivity, especially when I was clearly in pain. My cut throbbed like a motherfucker.
    I turned from Brad with a scowl, focusing on the lineup of expensive cars between me, some stitches and a bottle of prescription painkillers. Ugh. This town sucked hairy bull balls.
    * * *
    T hree hours, eight stitches, a big, fat tetanus shot, and one heavy-duty prescription later, Brad pulled into his driveway in Echo Park. My arm had stopped throbbing, thanks to my painkillers. I still couldn’t believe I’d gone through all this because of a shopping bag or whatever was poking out of the bag. I let out an exasperated breath before climbing out of Brad’s car. My head was swimming, so Brad walked me to my house, my temporary home while I looked for acting jobs this summer.
    The view from my summer rental was breathtaking. We were on what had to have been one of the tallest hills in Echo Park, giving me an expansive view of older homes with lots of character piled on top of one another like dominoes. So different than the manure piles and haystacks back on the ranch. I leaned on Brad as he helped me up the porch stairs, across the hardwood living room, and into bed.
    The mattress springs creaked when I sat down. I couldn’t help but think what delicious noises that mattress would make if I fucked Brad in this bed.
    Shut up, Ariana. Not your type. Too vanilla, remember?   “Thanks, mí amor .” I patted his cheek and crawled beneath the sheets. 
    His handsome chiseled features blurred like a faded dream. “Get some rest.”
    “I’m not that tired.” I fell against the pillow, my arms flopping by my sides. Truthfully, I was exhausted, but if I admitted it, Brad would leave. I wasn’t ready for him to go just yet.
    He stood to his full height, bearing down on me with a scowl. “That’s an order.”
    His tone had taken on a much darker edge than I was used to, causing gooseflesh to rise on my arms. “I don’t take orders from men.” My arms felt weighted with sandbags as I tried to pull myself up. “They take orders from