Dirty Dare: The Rescue (Sexy Suspense) (Part 1, spin-off to the Dirty and Dare Me series) Read Online Free Page A

Brynn said.
    When had she gotten so close? A straw teased the edge of his lips. He sucked it in, drinking greedily.
    “ Comemierda ,” Marisela cursed. “He pulled out his IV.”
    Brynn sighed. “Of course he did.”
    The water was lukewarm, but the effect was not unlike a shot of aged bourbon in relieving his bone-deep thirst.
    But it wasn’t enough like his favorite whiskey to keep him quiet.
    “Where are we?” he asked, his throat burning.
    She offered him the straw again, and he drank while she answered, “Spain.”
    “Flew?” he asked.
    “Your eardrums were too damaged,” she answered. “We took a boat.”
    “I don’t remember.”
    “I’m not surprised. Marisela pushed the button on your morphine whenever I wasn’t looking.”
    “I didn’t want him to suffer,” Marisela explained, though Sean instantly recognized that she sucked when it came to lying. At least, when she didn’t care if anyone knew that she wasn’t telling the truth.
    “She hates doctors,” he said, not entirely sure how he’d gleaned this piece of information.
    “See?” Marisela snapped. “I told you he was listening to what we were saying. Cabrón .”
    Brynn ignored her. “Which explains why she’s been so generous with your drugs. Luckily, the doctor kept track and started switching you to something lighter a couple of days ago. You’re still banged up, but you’ll live.”
    “You don’t sound happy about it,” he pointed out.
    She moved the straw out of his reach, and in the darkness, he couldn’t tell if she was being cruel or just trying to limit his intake of fluids.
    “I’m supposed to be happy that Dante sent me in to rescue a man who was being tortured in the back of a warehouse of a disgusting slum? That’s not exactly my idea of a good time. But I am glad you’re recovering. I’m glad you’re alive. And I’d like you to stay that way.”
    Though every molecule in his body ached, Sean chanced movement. When adjusting his position didn’t result in unmanageable pain, he pushed harder, attempting to sit up. Stars shot into his eyes, blinding him from anything except visions of sickening bursts of color.
    “What are you doing?” Marisela shouted.
    Something clattered to the floor. A splash of liquid sprayed across his arm.
    “Pissing me off,” Brynn answered for him, tugging the blanket away from him to sop up the spilled water.
    A second later, Marisela took over, pushing Brynn out of the room. Sean made a game out of trying to translate her bilingual rant—anything to take his mind off the nausea that roiled through him as his equilibrium battled with his body.
    He recognized the word for stupid . And maybe the one for bastard . Trapped in a miasma of leftover narcotics and agony, he figured neither was unearned. He was stupid for trying to get up so quickly. And he was a bastard for lying around while two strangers took care of his sorry ass.
    “You just wanted to see what would happen to her white bra if you spilled water on it, didn’t you?” she accused.
    The thought hadn’t occurred to him, but now that it had, he wished the room wasn’t so damned dark.
    “How long have I been in this bed?” he asked, his throat aching.
    “Couple of weeks, but you’ve had physical therapy. The doctor taught Brynn how to—”
    Sean sucked air into his lungs, then blew it out on a scream and pulled himself to a sitting position.
    “What the hell…?”
    Her words came in and out as if she were an announcer on weak-signaled radio. He fought to remain upright, telling himself that the sick feeling in his stomach would subside. He had nothing solid in his stomach to vomit. The dizziness would fade.
    He tried to move again, but this time, she placed both of her hands on his shoulders and held him still.
    “I said, what the hell are you doing?”
    “Fighting…atrophy,” he growled.
    “Fuck atrophy. You gotta rest.”
    He shrugged away from her, causing his skull to split into four precise quarters