Free Holmes by Anna Hackett Page B

has to hurt like hell.”
    Adam gave a choked laugh.
    He felt Liberty’s lush lips form a smile against his ear. “I want your cock inside me, Adam. Soon. And I don’t want gentle. I want it hard and fast. I want everything you’ve got to give me.”
    The alien bug pulled free with a burst of pain, and Adam groaned. But it had nothing to do with the wound on his arm.
    “Hello there, you ugly little thing.” Emerson popped the frantically wiggling creature into a hard plastic container and sealed the lid. “I think I know some tech geeks who’ll want to take a close look at you.”
    Norah leaned past Emerson and started cleaning Adam’s wound. There were four round, ragged wounds from the tentacles, and in the center was what looked like a burn mark. “We’ll get you patched up good as new, General. Can you feel your legs again?”
    He nodded, wiggling his toes. Then he turned to his dirty-talking angel.
    When he looked at Liberty’s face, he frowned. She’d gone pale. “Liberty? You okay?”
    She frowned. “I feel a bit woozy.”
    Norah nodded. “Lots of people get sick at the sight of blood. And that little alien thing is enough to make anyone nauseated.”
    Liberty shook her head, the move sluggish. “I really don’t feel well.”
    Then she toppled to the side. Adam caught her, lowering her to the ground beside him. When he lifted his hand, he saw it was coated in bright-red blood. “Doc!”
    “Goddammit.” Emerson leaned over, tearing at Liberty’s dark cargo trousers.
    Adam sucked in a breath. Liberty’s trousers were soaked in blood. The dark color of the fabric had masked it.
    “Claws. It’s nicked the femoral artery.” Emerson shook her head, her hands working feverishly. “She’s bleeding out.”
    No . Adam leaned over her. “Liberty, you fight, dammit.” He touched her face, hated seeing her so pale, so still. All that spark in her had drained away.
    “We need to get her to the med bus. She needs nanomeds.”
    Adam scooped her up and stood. “Marcus, get my truck. Lead us to the mine. I’ll be in the med bus.”
    “Yes, sir,” Marcus responded.
    Adam’s strides chewed up the distance to the med bus, Emerson hovering nearby, putting pressure on Liberty’s wound.
    Liberty had to make it. She had to.
     

Chapter Nine
    Liberty woke, disoriented.
    Where the hell was she?
    She was in a bed, some machine bleeping beside her with a steady, annoying chirp. Her hands clenched on the plain, white blanket, trying to work out what had happened.
    Her hand brushed something silky. She looked down and saw a dark head resting on the blanket by her hip.
    Adam . He was sitting on a small stool, his head on the bed, one hand on her leg. The tiny bit she could see of his face showed he was fast asleep.
    Her chest tightened and she gently stroked his hair.
    She’d met some great people at Blue Mountain Base. Courageous survivors, fun girlfriends, sexy, funny guys. She’d made friends and she’d enjoyed healthy, unattached sex with some of the single men. She’d found little glimmers of humor and normality in the dark realities of their new world.
    But she had no one to wait by her sickbed. She swallowed the thick lump in her throat. No one who would truly care if she lived or died.
    She stroked the brown silk of Adam’s hair again.
    He stirred and lifted his head. He blinked, his hair falling over his forehead, a crease from the blanket on his cheek. For a second, he looked younger, perhaps what he’d looked like before he’d taken on the responsibility for so many lives.
    He ran a hand over his face and her general appeared, the lines of strain bracketing his mouth, that little groove between his eyebrows she was coming to know so well.
    “You’re okay.” He patted her legs, moving up her body.
    “I am.” She grabbed his hand. She actually felt the best she’d felt in ages. She suspected the doc had given her nanomeds. The tiny machines raced through the bloodstream, fixing anything they