Chapter 2: Breaking Her Fever

Words : 1771 Updated : Sep 11th, 2025

Alex Hayde hurried over, crouched, and tried to lift her. Kimberly Yoppe still had a scrap of caution left. She shoved at his hands, breath sharp and uneven. "What are you doing… Who are you? Are you with Ding's crew?" "Ms. Yoppe, I'm the waiter who served you earlier," he said softly. "I warned you, but you wouldn't listen." "I feel awful… so hot, so sick. Help me!" Whether it was his voice steadying her or the drug hitting harder, she dropped her guard and clung to his arm like a lifeline. Her blouse gaped, flashes of pale skin showing, soft and disarming. A hungry heat coiled through him, and for a second he wanted to bite down, to taste. He swallowed hard. Saving her mattered more than anything. He hauled her upright. Her body went slack and fell against him. They ended up pressed chest to chest. He could feel her feverish heat through their clothes. Each breath she exhaled came warm and sweet against his cheek, a dizzying perfume. Her soft breasts kept pressing into him, and he had to steady his breath, silently counting to keep himself in check. He had never dealt with anything like this. "Ms. Yoppe," he asked, voice low, "how can I help you? Should we go to a hospital?" "Don't," she whispered. "Please don't… Take me away. Somewhere they can't find me…" Her voice dwindled to a thread, then her head lolled against his chest and she went still. He understood. As the township chief, she couldn't afford a scandal. The hospital was out. He needed a room, somewhere discreet, just for the night. He scooped her up and took off. He heard footsteps behind them. He darted a few steps, slid into a side alley, and held her tight against him, keeping them both in the shadows. "Don't be afraid," he murmured. "I've got you. Those two are out looking for you." Ms. Yoppe curled up and went still. "Damn it, where did that bitch run off to?" "She won't get far. Once that stuff hits, she'll burn up and turn to jelly, no strength at all. Unless she finds a man to take the edge off, she can't come down. Move, come on!" Their quick steps pattered away to the east. Alex let himself breathe. Time to get her to a hotel. She had curves, but she was surprisingly light in his arms. Even so, he ran long and hard, sweat breaking across his brow. It was not just the strain. The drug had her fully in its grip. Her movements turned obscene. Her blouse had ridden up; the swell of her chest was suddenly bare, her warm, intimate scent flooding his senses. Heat flooded his face; his pulse hammered. He tried not to look, but that pale, full curve kept teasing the corner of his eye, and it was pure torture. Worse, she clung to him like he was the only solid thing in a burning room. Whatever part of her that could still feel anything felt the heat of him, the unmistakable scent of a man. Her hand slipped inside his collar and wandered, fingers soft and insistent, her body rubbing against him again and again. It was killing him. If not for sheer self-control, he might have dragged her into the nearest dark corner and given in right there. He finally reached a Homey Inn hotel. He showed his ID, checked in, then carried her up and into the room. "We're here." He laid her on the bed and finally exhaled. He pulled a light cover over her and splashed water on his face in the bathroom. When he turned back, his eyes nearly popped out of his skull. She had kicked the cover off and torn her blouse open. Her bra sat crooked, a flushed tip barely hidden. Full, heavy, impossibly round. He almost suspected they were too perfect to be real. Her skin was pale by nature. Under the drug, her face and throat flushed a deep, feverish red that made her look devastating. And it was not just her top. In her daze, she'd unbuttoned her pants, shoving them down to her knees. He hadn't expected the polished, no-nonsense Ms. Yoppe to be wearing pink lace panties. His gaze snagged and wouldn't move. Her most intimate place, as full as the rest of her, pressed against that thin fabric in a soft, plush mound. She writhed on the bed, she'd scratched her shoulders and chest raw. "It hurts," she murmured, voice breaking. "Help me…" He couldn't stand there and watch her hurt herself. He strode over, caught her wrists, and pinned them lightly to the mattress. "Ms. Yoppe, focus. Don't hurt yourself." Pinned beneath him, she reacted on instinct. Her body bucked hard, fighting his grip. The closeness made friction inevitable. Alex gritted his teeth. This stuff was vicious. "Let me go! Don't touch me, get away…" She was out of her mind; she had no idea what she was saying. Even so, the words stung. He had risked his neck for her, carried her all this way, and this was what he got. Fine. He released her and turned for the door. "Mmm-ah…" He hadn't even reached the door when a breathy, needy moan stopped him cold. He glanced back. Damn. She was touching herself right in front of him. Ms. Yoppe had both hands inside the pink lace, moving fast. Her whole body trembled. The sight made his jaw drop. Heat surged behind his eyes and ran down his spine, setting every nerve on fire. Her face twisted with helpless pain. "Hey… you," she murmured. "Good boy… I was wrong. I shouldn't have yelled at you. Help me. Please." He forgave her in an instant. He locked the door, came back to the bed, and stood staring at the irresistible curves of her body on the bed. "This isn't on me," he said, voice rough. "You're the one asking."

Chapter 2: Breaking Her Fever

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