Ty huffed a soft laugh, though rather than going for a kiss (because she had kissed Terry before--surrounded by velvety darkness and moonlight and forest and even though that had been months ago, it felt like it could've just happened, because everything was good, and right now, finally), she merely leaned into Terry, pressing her cheek and forehead into his chest, marking him with her scent even as she greedily soaked in the warmth and comfort of both the skin on skin contact and the scents that clung to him. He smelled like him, with a generous smear of Asher, and a sprinkle of Penny, and like sex, and adrenaline, and home.
And blood...no, that was her. Their blood, their attackers' blood, clinging to her clothes, and the smell of their hands and mouths where'd they'd clawed and bit. The adrenaline fading, it made her stomach turn, and the bone deep pain radiated from the every healing wound. Christ, she hurt. Not as much as she should, though. She should be dead. They should all be dead. None of them should've survived that.
"God," she shuddered out a breath and a helpless little chuckle, pressed her lips to the center of Terry's chest. "I need a shower."
"Yeah, you kinda do," Asher replied with a soft hum of amusement, shaking himself out of the lust-and-love soaked reverie, wrapping an arm around Penny and leaning in to kiss Tyleigh's temple. "I'll call Gramma Gen for the body cleanup. And the Devereauxs. I got it," he insisted as Tyleigh turned to object, waving her off and deftly plucking her phone out of the pocket of her tattered jeans. "It's good practice for me. I'm gonna be on the phone a lot when I land that choice little job at the DA's office." He kept Penny wrapped close, needing the warmth and comfort of her even as he scrolled through the contacts to call Tyleigh's grandmother. He was doing good, in his Asher way, at hanging on to that eerily calm patience, but there was a tremble at his core. "Hey Penny Lane," he murmured as the line rang, playfully flicking a fingertip at the peak of her breast and stealing a kiss. "You're nakey."
no subject
And blood...no, that was her. Their blood, their attackers' blood, clinging to her clothes, and the smell of their hands and mouths where'd they'd clawed and bit. The adrenaline fading, it made her stomach turn, and the bone deep pain radiated from the every healing wound. Christ, she hurt. Not as much as she should, though. She should be dead. They should all be dead. None of them should've survived that.
"God," she shuddered out a breath and a helpless little chuckle, pressed her lips to the center of Terry's chest. "I need a shower."
"Yeah, you kinda do," Asher replied with a soft hum of amusement, shaking himself out of the lust-and-love soaked reverie, wrapping an arm around Penny and leaning in to kiss Tyleigh's temple. "I'll call Gramma Gen for the body cleanup. And the Devereauxs. I got it," he insisted as Tyleigh turned to object, waving her off and deftly plucking her phone out of the pocket of her tattered jeans. "It's good practice for me. I'm gonna be on the phone a lot when I land that choice little job at the DA's office." He kept Penny wrapped close, needing the warmth and comfort of her even as he scrolled through the contacts to call Tyleigh's grandmother. He was doing good, in his Asher way, at hanging on to that eerily calm patience, but there was a tremble at his core. "Hey Penny Lane," he murmured as the line rang, playfully flicking a fingertip at the peak of her breast and stealing a kiss. "You're nakey."