Flash Fiction: Crybabies and Sex

"How is taking off your shirt going to help, Agent Rayland?" Nicki squeaked. Determining modesty would probably be a better tack than bravado, she tried dropping to her knees. Tried, being the operative word, as the solid thunk of her left knee striking the bedframe preceded another catastophe.
"Owww....shit...fuck." The medley of curses didn't stifle the laughter from the doorway as Nicki lost the little bit of balance she had, listed to the left, and slammed into the nightstand. The fancy brass knob made contact with her cheekbone as her butt hit the floor and the shin of her right leg left a layer of skin on the underside of the frame.
That's it! she decided. Laying her head on her awkwardly twisted arms, Nicki gave into the tears pressing against her eyelids.
The bed swayed beneath Luke's weight as he stepped over rather than around it to get to her. "Are you okay?" The amusement was still there, but concern overshadowed it as his warm hands stroked along her throbbing leg, examining the injuries she'd inflicted on herself.
Again.
"No," she sobbed, glaring up at him. "I'm not okay." And she was sure the sight of her eyes, swollen and red, matched the splotches on her face. She'd never been a pretty crier, which only made her angrier and cry even harder.
"I can see --"
"This is all your fault!" There, it was out.
"I don't --"
But could she just leave it at that--oh, no, not Nicki Vymes, she just had to humiliate herself completely. "Oh yes, it is. If you hadn't let me run into you, then showed up at the strip club I never would have seen that cute ass of yours. Or your yummy eyes. Which only made me horny and Harold wasn't helping."
Luke didn't saying anything, only stared at her in what looked like stunned surprise.
"Now, I'm gonna have a black eye from the knob, a swollen knee, a scrape that'll probably fester and give me gangrene, and I'll never have a screaming orgasm." Giving up, Nicki let another wail out, sucked in a deep breath and pushed her face into the mattress to wipe her tears and runny nose on the tangled bedding.
She'd never quite understood what a deafening silence was until now. Unwilling to face him, Nicki squirmed, trying to get her feet under her, but rising was beyond her ability. Resigned, she rattled the cuffs binding her to the bed, "The key is under the bed. If you'll just--"
"No." His firm hands lifted her off the floor.
A gentle twist and flip had her settled on the mattress staring up at him as his shirt was tossed aside. "I can't do anything about the black eye, the swollen knee, or the scrape." Faded denim dropped to the carpet. "But the screaming orgasm, that I can deliver."
"Oh."