‘Fuck, what a mess,’ Sam commented after a few minutes as she finished cleaning his face. It had taken all of the wipes from both of the kits, but...it was done. Miranda had thought that with his face cleaned of blood and grime Grey would look better, instead, he looked ghostly pale, even taking into account the florescent light. Sheen of sweat covered his face, his lips were trembling slightly and his eyelids fluttered as if he was having trouble keeping them open. ‘Shit,’ Sam muttered, pulling. I opened another bottle, refreshing my glass as well. She blushed. “You mean that?” she said, avoiding my stare. “Damn right!” I replied sitting down on the couch next to her. “If I wasn’t married, you and I wouldn’t be sitting here on the couch!” I jerked my head toward the master bedroom and smiled. She got my drift. “That’s awfully sweet of you to say that.” She leaned in to me, brushing her lips against mine. “Even if it isn’t true. But, again, what about your wife? ” “We haven’t had sex in. More

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