Page 15 of Vampire Pack

I bit back a curse. Moving it at all was painful. "I take offense to you labeling my ass as little. Do you know how many squats I've done? It should at least qualify as thick."

"Excuse me. I should've dragged your sexy, plump ass to the medical team after I fucked the rage out of you."

My face flushed bright red. "God, you're the worst."

"I accept the label."

"I shouldn't have let you fuck me at all. You're just…" I gestured toward him in the mirror, with my good arm.

His lips curved slowly. "Irresistible?"

"No."

"Perfect?"

I snorted. "In your dreams."

"Attractive, at the very least."

"There's no point in disagreeing with that," I said reluctantly. "Our arrangement still needs to end. You told me you'd stop attacking people for me, and you didn't."

"Alright. That's fine." He released my shoulder, and stepped back.

I watched him leave the bathroom. Then the room.

I tried not to follow him.

I swear, I really did.

But instinct, or possessiveness, or something pushed me out after him.

I grabbed my t-shirt off the countertop and eased it over my head before I followed him back to the living room, expecting him to be on his way to the door.

It was a stupid expectation.

King never left me until he was satisfied that I'd taken care of my injuries.

He was in the kitchen, digging around in our freezer, when I found him. He ignored the blood bags with Mallory's name on them, the ice cream, and the freezer meals one of us had left in there, too.

"I hate your ice packs," I grumbled, sitting down on one of the barstools at our kitchen's island.

"My ice packs are the only reason your ankle wasn't completely wrecked after that fucking horrible Ponder match," he countered.

"You can't use the Ponder match as an excuse every single time."

"It's evidence, not an excuse." He walked over with the massive icepack that he'd left in our freezer years earlier. I'd like to say that it hadn't gotten much use, but that would be a lie.

He draped the flexible icepack over my shoulder, putting light pressure on it. I closed my eyes as the chill slowly seeped in, so cold that it was painful.

"You should've gone straight into the ice bath," he said, very clearly unhappy with me.

"I was busy yelling at you. Then fucking you." My voice was stiff, my jaw was clenched with pain.

"You could've yelled at me from the ice bath. You could've fucked me in there too, for that matter." He wasn't angry about the yelling. Playing hockey with an assload of ragey werewolves for years on end had ensured that he wasn't sensitive to it.

"As if you could hold an erection in an ice bath."

"You would keep my cock nice and warm."