“You’re injured. The last thing I want to do is hurt you more.” “How about you let me be the one to decide what kind of pain I can endure? Because sometimes . . .” Reaching down, she cups her hand over the zipper of my pants, and as my balls tighten up, I’m afraid I’m about to embarrass myself. “. . . a little pain is . . . just . . . fine.” Holy shit.
