TankEverything fucking hurts. I've never felt this kind of pain before in my life, not even when I was in the military. What's worse is I don't remember what I've done to cause myself to be in this agony.The last thing I can recall is driving to the bottoms with my windows cracked, hard rock playing as loud as I could handle it, and my thoughts on the red-head spitfire who's been ignoring me for months. I was formulating a plan to get back in her good graces, to let her know her job didn't mean jack shit, if it meant my ultimatum kept her away from me. She called my bluff and when I got to my fishing spot, I was going to text her, let her know I'd deal with her job because fuck – I missed her. After that all I remember is pain."Trevor, can you hear me?"I'm trying to tell this woman who keeps screaming at me that I can indeed, fucking hear her. She's shoving something into my side near my lung and it's killing me.I go to grab for it, feeling plastic. Maybe it's a tube.

TankA few days home and I'm wishing like hell I was back in the hospital. It's not like I actually enjoyed being in the place, but there was a sense of safety I felt. Nurses were around at all times, if I needed it, there was an IV of medication that could knock me out of my misery for a few hours. No one questioned when I asked for it. There the pain wasn't so all-consuming. Doctors and nurses came in at all hours of the goddamn day and night, it gave me something else to concentrate on. In my home I can't get away from my pain, can't get away from the thoughts running through my head, can't get away from Blaze's hot body always so close to mine. I know part of the problem is I won't take the painkillers, but I hate the way they make me feel. And I can't physically take Blaze, because that's just work I can't do quite yet."Trevor, where are you?"My stomach clenches as I hear the voice of the woman-turned-angel who's overseeing my care. Having Blaze fulfill every need I have i

TankGoddamn, I'm having the best dream ever. Blaze's hand is on my boxers, cupping my dick with her small hand. It hasn't seen action since the last time she and I were together six months ago, so it's got a mind of its own.Not to say I haven't jerked it. I have, but there's no one who can get me off the way she does. Blaze isn't one of those let's do it in the dark with the lights off on days that start in T kind of women. She's very sexually aware and knows exactly what she wants. No playing coy with her, she'd much rather grab you by the balls and stick her finger up your ass to make sure you get off hard. Which is why, when I realize this isn't a dream and her hand is actually down my boxers wrapped around my cock, I have to put my own hand down there and grip the base to keep from coming."Holy shit," the oath is ripped from my throat as I groan, forcing my eyes open against the lingering effects of the painkillers. "Blaze, I'm gonna come," I grit my teeth against the n

TankHearing the surgeon speak isn't making me feel much better. If anything, it's making me feel worse. This is a longer recovery than I thought it would be."Six weeks before I can bear weight on it?" I question to make sure I've heard him correctly. Fuck me running.He nods. "That's right, Trevor, could be sooner though, everyone heals different. I'm giving you worst-case scenario. Keep in mind your six weeks started while you were in the hospital. You've already survived a portion of it. At six weeks we'll make a decision if we can take off the cast and outfit you with a brace. Provided everything is going well, you'll be able to bear weight, as long as it all looks good, and along the way we'll work on getting strength back with the physical therapy. All in all, if things go well, I'm looking to get you back to work in twelve weeks. You're strong and in good shape, we may be able to move that time frame up."Motherfucker. Twelve weeks before I can get back to work? Three m

BlazeTen Days Later"You're sure it's okay for me to put myself back on the rotation for next week?" I ask Trevor as I sit on his bed, watching him get ready for the day."I think it'll be all good," he says as he sets his crutch to the side, working to put his shirt on one arm and then the other before pulling it over his head.I'm pensive when I maybe shouldn't be. It's been a month since he wrecked, almost three weeks since he was released from the hospital, but I worry he's overdoing it. Fact of the matter is Trevor's starting to look and act more like his old self. Two more weeks with the no weight-bearing and then he'll be able to walk on his own. He won't need me, and I'll have to get back to work. I can't keep hovering over him like some den mother. Today for instance, he's dressing himself and not sweating like a stuck pig. He truly is getting better. "Then I'll call and have them put me back on rotation. Hopefully Logan's still free."He shoots me an almost bore