Born in New York City, then dumped and abandoned in California at age Seven, Maeve was forced to take care of and raise herself. The neglected child walked through the bustling streets of Los Angeles, lonely and often feeling depressed for quite a f...
And as expected, he got a face full of my boobs. He jerked away in shock at the close proximity, but then, a mischievous little smirk drew itself across his face. "By any chance, do these hurt, too?"
"I mean, I little, I hit them on the steps a few times, too, I guess." I shrugged, glancing down at my naked, exposed boobies.
"Want me to make them feel better?" He questioned, biting down on his bottom lip lightly.
"I... guess? But, I don't think they are as bad as my back. It hurts pretty fucking bad." I grunted out, rolling my shoulders.
Sighing in what seemed to be disappointment, he nodded his head. "Fine, but we're going to come back to that." He muttered softly, almost... longingly? I think? "Alright, your going to have to stand up for this one, and face the counter." He ordered.
I hopped off the cool counter and did as told.
"Holy... shit." He gasped out after an agonizingly long pause.
"What? What's wrong? What happened?" I questioned hurriedly, nervousness in my tone. "How bad is it?"
"Really fucking bad, Stray." I heard him groan out. I gasped in surprise and slight pain has his finger made contact with a rather sore area on my lower back, pressing into it painfully. I cried out and jerked away from his touch.
"The fuck are you doing? You are supposed to make me feel better, dumbass!" I yelled out, anger running through me as I once again- rotated my shoulders backwards, clenching my jaw while resting my chest against the surface of the counter top, the cold material irritating my sensitive nipples, though I ignored it, too absorbed in the excruciating pain I felt in my back.
"Yeah, well, making this feel better isn't going to happen quickly. Stray you really banged yourself up." He sighed, his hands falling to my exposed waits. "I'm going to need some bandaging. And disinfectant spray. Maybe a bucket in case I throw up."
"Try to act like an adult, Bieber," I snapped.
"Doctor Bieber."
"Shut up, I'm not going to call you doctor Bieber." I informed him, earning a disappointed pout in response lower lip jutting out as his dark brown curled inwards, causing little wrinkle to form between them, though he couldn't hold the little frown for too long as it was obvious he was trying to restrain himself from smiling.
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"Aw, come on, Stray. Play nice, I'm trying to help you out here." He whined softly, his warm breath hitting the back of my ear. I grumbled out a soft, 'whatever,' as he gave my waist a light squeeze. "I need to go grab a few things from downstairs really fast, don't move." He ordered sternly before slipping out of the bathroom.
