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Chad and Owen stopped outside the dilapidated fence of the worst-looking house in the neighborhood and exchanged smiles. It was located about halfway between Owen’s house and their parents’ house—close to family, but not on top of them. It was also only blocks from the gym he and Owen had just left. Perfect location. Less than perfect house.
“Maybe I can afford it, “Chad said. He’d be getting his loss of limb settlement soon, and though it wouldn’t make him rich, it would give him the means to put a down payment on his own place. And he’d been squirreling away money for a wedding that now wouldn’t be happening, so he had some extra funds. Normally, even the smallest house in the neighborhood would be out of his reach, but the eyesore in front of him might be doable.
“We’ll have to check it out and make sure most of the problems are cosmetic,” Owen said. “You don’t want to have to sink too much money into it.”
“I can do most of the work myself.” Or he could have before . . . He craned his neck to look up at his little brother, who’d always been a few inches shorter than him. He hated his fucking chair. “You’ll help me, won’t you? I helped you fix up your dump.”
“My dump was never as bad off as this hovel.”
It didn’t look like a hovel to Chad. It looked like possibility.
Owen clamped a hand on Chad’s shoulder. “But of course I’ll help you.”
Dependable Owen. So dependable that pregnant groupies sought him out to be their baby daddy. Chad could be dependable for Lindsey too. Even more so if he had a place of his own and a bigger bed.
“It’s not like I have anything better to do right now,” Owen added. He was still looking at the house, but no longer seemed to see it.
“Besides fuck your new girlfriend, you mean?”
“Yeah, besides that. I was supposed to be touring all summer.”
Chad wished there was something he could do to help his brother get his band back together. Or maybe there was more bothering him than that. Chad hadn’t seen Kellen around since that one rather terse visit in the hospital, and that was plain odd. Owen and Kellen had spent every day together since fifth grade, for fuck’s sake. And Chad considered Kellen a close friend as well, so it was a bit hurtful that he didn’t come around more often.
Chad hated to pry—it wasn’t his style—but . . . “So, what’s Kellen been up to since the band split?”
Owen shrugged. He licked his lips. Was he finally going to confide what was bothering him, what had happened between him and Kellen? Chad didn’t move, didn’t push any harder, but Owen only blinked, his gaze refocusing on the house. “This house looks pretty small. Are you sure there’s enough room?”
Chad didn’t like to share his feelings either, so he let Owen change the subject without forcing the issue.
“I bet it’s bigger than your place. And look at the size of that backyard. I’m surprised someone hasn’t bought it yet.”
The local schools were fantastic. Families wanted in the neighborhood and were willing to purchase less than desirable real estate for the opportunity. Much of the time they demolished these little shitholes and built something new, but Chad liked the charm of older houses, and even though he griped to Owen about helping him fix up his house, it had been one of the most rewarding experiences of his life.
“How long has the place been on the market?” he asked.
“A couple of weeks at least. I saw the For Sale sign the day we got the news of your accident, but it slipped my mind.”
Weeks? Chad cringed. Even for a tear-down, that was a long time to sit on the market. They must have too high an asking price. Or it was built over a haunted burial ground or someone had been murdered in it or something. None of those thoughts deterred Chad, though.
“I’d better get on this quick. Jot down the phone number.”
“It’s best not to go through the listing agent. I’ll call my realtor,” Owen said. “Are you sure you want to do this right now? Maybe it would be better to wait until you’ve healed.”
Why did everyone think he needed to put his life on hold while he healed? He knew people were concerned for him, but he couldn’t move forward by standing still. “This place will be long gone by then.”
“It’s just . . . To be honest . . . I kind of like having you around, you know.” Owen chuckled softly. “And Lindsey definitely likes having you around.”
Chad laughed. “Not as much as I like having her around.” He pulled his attention from what would soon be his new home to find Owen frowning.
“Caitlyn sure was happy when I told her I’m not going to be a father,” Owen said.
“Are you happy about it?”
Owen shrugged. “I was used to the idea, I guess. I like babies.”
Had Owen been hoping that Lindsey’s baby was his? Maybe he was ready to settle down. Chad always figured Owen would end up a family man despite his rock ‘n’ roll profession.
“Does Caitlyn want kids?”
“She has a corporation to run.” He smiled. “But yeah, I think she does. Her ex-husband didn’t want kids. It’s one of the reasons they split.”
“Are you planning to do the whole married-with-children thing with Caitlyn?” Chad asked.
“I’m not sure we’re ready for that step yet. I haven’t known her for long, but yeah, I think we’re headed that way. I’ve always wanted a family.”
Chad smiled, glad his brother seemed so happy with his new, older, and uncommonly sexy woman.
“Any chance you’ll be getting back together with Josie?” Owen asked.
All the air left Chad’s body. He hadn’t let himself think about Josie or the cruel way she’d broken off their engagement. Her disregard hurt far more than the constant pain in his leg or the healing bruises and scrapes on his body.
“Fuck that bitch,” Chad said. He spun his chair around, using his anger to turn the wheels and launch himself along the sidewalk at a speed that had Owen jogging to keep up with him.
“You know I hate to pry as much as you do,” Owen said, huffing slightly as Chad wheeled faster and his own jog became a run. “But what exactly happened between you two?”
“She said she wasn’t prepared to deal with this.” Chad took one hand off the wheel to point at his leg, and the chair skidded sideways. Owen stopped just short of plowing into him.
“She said what?”
Chad shook his head. He didn’t want to talk about it. He wanted to forget about the breakup and move on. “You know she never wanted me to join the military,” Chad said, grabbing both wheels and maneuvering the chair so he could head straight up the sidewalk again. “That’s why I decided not to reenlist a second time even before the accident.” But if he’d been of sound body, he probably would have signed up for a third tour of duty after she’d dumped him. He loved being a Marine. He loved serving his country to protect it from threats.
“Fuck that bitch,” Owen said.
“I have.” Chad snorted, then added, “I’ve had better.” Earlier that day as a matter of fact.
Owen’s scowl was replaced with a smile. And Chad reminded himself for the thousandth time that the best way to move forward was by never looking back.
“I wonder what Lindsey is up to,” Chad said when she returned to the forefront of his mind. He wheeled forward at a more sedate pace. Just thinking about Lindsey calmed him, until his thoughts shifted to the release that she’d offered him that morning and his calm turned to arousal. He preferred that constant burning ache of need over the way Josie’s rejection ate at him. Was it possible to heal deep emotional wounds by fucking someone new? He hoped to soon find out. “I need her to help me as soon as we get home. I could use a postworkout sponge bath.”
“You do stink,” Owen said.
And it had felt great to work up a sweat, even if he had been self-conscious with everyone in the gym staring at him. Or trying not to stare at him. Somehow, their quick glances were harder to take then the outright gawking. At least if they were staring, he didn’t feel like he was being dismissed.
“You smell pretty bad yourself.”
“And I have to bathe all on my own,” Owen said. “Unless I ask Lindsey to help me shower.”
“You’d better not.”
“I guess we’ll see who manages to ask her first,” Owen said. He took off, sprinting up the sidewalk, and Chad wheeled himself in hot pursuit. Chasing after Owen and knowing that he wasn’t slowing his speed to let him win elevated Chad’s competitive spirit and his mood. He wasn’t going to let the world get him down. He had a life to rebuild, and something deep in his soul told him it would start with that so-called hovel. He wasn’t sure what came after that, but for now it would be enough.
Owen beat Chad back to the house and collapsed on his back at the bottom of the wheelchair ramp, tossing his arms wide into the neatly trimmed grass. He was still lying there trying to catch his breath when Chad used momentum to boost his chair up the incline. His upper body muscles strained to keep driving the chair forward when the forces acting against him overtook his head start. He could really feel his morning workout now. He’d concentrated on upper body strength at the gym, because he wasn’t quite sure how to work around having only one leg yet. He’d need to perfect a few common exercises in private—like squats and deadlifts—before he could brave carrying them out in public, but he could still bench press with the best of them. His shoulder felt better than it had in weeks. He’d known immobilizing it wasn’t helping. It had needed a good workout to get the joint loosened up again.
Because he’d worked his chest and shoulders to fatigue, he wasn’t sure he could push himself up the last few feet of the ramp until Lindsey opened the back door and beamed at him.
“How was your workout?” she asked.
His heart thudded with happiness on top of exertion—the poor overworked organ—and another deep part of his soul told him that this woman was part of how he’d rebuild his life. He wasn’t sure how she’d fit or if she even wanted to, but just seeing her angelic face suffused him with pure joy. He didn’t have much joy going on in his life at the moment, but he was smart enough not to push it away when it presented itself.
“I’m all sweaty, angel,” he said, his arms and chest protesting but cooperating as he wheeled himself to the threshold and bumped over it. Soon he vowed to be doing wheelies up the ramp and hopping that threshold like it was nothing. “Do you think you could—”
“Want to help me with my shower, Lindsey?” Owen called from his prone position in the yard.
“I don’t think Caitlyn would appreciate that,” Lindsey said as she followed Chad into the house. She pulled the door shut behind him and then squeezed around his chair in the tight mud room so they were face-to-face.
“How did the ultrasound go?” he asked. “What did the doctor say?”
She lit up. “I’m due September fifteenth, and the baby is healthy.”
“That’s great!” Unable to keep from touching her for a minute longer, he took her hand. God, she was beautiful when she smiled. When she lit up with happiness, those big blue eyes of hers turned him to warm butter.
“But I was wrong again.”
His thundering heart skipped a beat. Wrong about him? “About what?” he asked cautiously, not sure he could take her rejection.
“It’s not a boy,” she said.
His entire body felt lighter, as if he’d suddenly been filled with helium and was in danger of floating to the ceiling.
“A girl? That’s fantastic!” Chad wasn’t sure why he was so excited by the news. It wasn’t his baby. Lindsey wasn’t really his girlfriend either. Sure, she’d had pity sex with him, but he was sure she wasn’t experiencing the same level of attachment that he was. He knew he was falling for her fast because she made him feel good about himself—worthwhile—so soon after his trauma, and also because he’d been dumped hardcore, but that didn’t explain why he was happy to find out she was having some other dude’s daughter.
“I think maybe it’s better that the baby’s a girl,” she said. “I wouldn’t know how to raise a boy as a single mom. At least I know how girls work from personal experience.”
“What makes you think you’ll have to raise her as a single mom?”
“Even if Jacob or Adam want to be part of her life, neither of them will want anything to do with me, so I’ll still be single, right?”
Chad tugged her closer, looking up into her eyes, hating again that he was always looking up at people now. “They aren’t the only two men alive, you know.”
She ducked her chin. “I know. But any man who finds out how she was conceived—what I did—will think less of her, less of me.”
Her bottom lip wobbled, and he reached up to cup her cheek. “You shouldn’t give that kind of man the time of day, angel.”
She bit her lip and nodded slightly.
“What time is it?” he asked.
“Around two, I think,” she said.
“I’m glad you know I’m not that kind of man.” He winked at her, and she laughed.
“Let’s get you cleaned up.” She pulled her hand free to shift behind his chair.
“I’ll do it.” He grabbed the wheels before pushing himself forward.
“Sorry.” She lifted both hands off the chair grips and splayed her fingers wide. “I forgot you don’t like help.”
“But you’re about to help me with my bath,” he reminded her, though he knew full well that he could bathe himself just fine. He just wanted her hands on him. Wanted her to look at him as she had that morning with desire and admiration and attraction.
“And you’re going to help me with something too,” she said.
“What’s that, angel?”
She leaned close to his ear and whispered, “I’m horny again. Do you think you can lend your aid?”
His belly tightened with instant need. “That can be arranged.”
“I’ll meet you in the bathroom. I need to grab a few things.”
“Shouldn’t we go upstairs?” he asked, drawing in his elbows as he wheeled through a particularly narrow doorway. He was going to make sure all of the doors in his house were wide enough for a wheelchair. Not for his sake—because he didn’t plan to stay in the fucking thing much longer—but to potentially save another person from the frustration he felt every time he was confronted with a tight space. “There’s no bathtub in the downstairs bath.”
“We won’t need a bathtub,” she said. “Don’t worry, I’ll bring lots of towels so we don’t make too much of a mess.”
He wasn’t worried. He was excited. The messier they got, the better.
Chad wheeled himself through the house into the small bathroom. His entire body was taut as he listened to the sounds of Lindsey moving around the house, collecting what she needed to make him clean. Or dirty. He wasn’t sure which. A few minutes later, Lindsey brought in a stack of towels and a handy tote full of toiletries and sponges. She winked at him as she set them on the toilet lid.
“Should I strip?” he asked.
A soft blush flushed her smooth cheeks. “I was hoping you’d allow me to undress you.”
He nodded and sat on his hands. Nervous energy flowed through his body as he watched her leave and a moment later return with a bucket of water she must have filled in the kitchen sink. The tiny sink in this bathroom couldn’t accommodate a bucket. He was ready to get down to business, but she left again. He glanced down at the spectacle his overexcited cock was making out of the front of his gym shorts. Fuck, that woman made him hard. And she hadn’t even touched him yet.
He could hear her voice in the kitchen, and the deeper rumble of Owen’s answer. Chad didn’t have the patience for the two of them to carry on a conversation. “Lindsey?” he called, adjusting his shorts to better accommodate his arousal.
“Be right there!” she answered. But he could still hear her talking to Owen. What were they discussing that was more important than his uncomfortable need for her?
A long moment later she entered the room with even more towels. Chad watched her curiously as she unfolded them in the only bare spot left on the floor, and then cringed when Owen entered the room and popped open a white plastic folding chair and set it in the center of the collection of towels Lindsey had spread out.
“Enjoy, big brother,” Owen said, exchanging a fist bump with Chad as he passed and then shut the door behind him
Lindsey hung a bath sheet from the doorknob and arranged the huge towel to cover the gap along the demolished doorframe, offering them at least a little more privacy. Next, she busied herself with spreading another towel on the seat of the chair and draping a third one over the chair’s back. She had to squeeze herself between his wheelchair and the wall. There really wasn’t much room to maneuver, which probably should have felt claustrophobic, but it just made Chad uncomfortably aware of her closeness.
“Do you think you can stand?” she asked quietly.
At that moment, he was sure he could do a long series of backflips if it would get him laid faster, but he didn’t tell her that. He locked the wheels of his chair, flipped the footrest aside, and used the chair’s arms to leverage himself to standing. He didn’t even wobble until she approached and nervous energy broke his concentration. He placed a hand on her shoulder to help him balance.
She stepped closer and turned her face into his neck. She breathed him in as her hands slid up his back under his sweat-damp T-shirt. She pulled the fabric upward slowly, her hands skimming his skin. He liked standing against her. He didn’t feel so small and powerless. He felt almost like the man he’d once been.
He circled her body with both arms and drew her closer, loving the press of the firm bulge of her belly against him.
Don’t wobble. You’re just standing on one leg, he told himself. He could almost feel the floor under the foot no longer attached to his body.
“Angel?” he whispered close to her ear, and when she tilted her head back, he pressed his lips to hers. Her fingers dug into his back as she flattened herself against him as best she could with her rounded belly between them. Near his spine, her fingertips found one of a hundred nearly faded bruises, but somehow the pain she caused made him feel alive.
He drew away to stare down into her eyes, wondering at the strange feeling swarming through him. Gratitude. He’d never felt gratitude toward a woman before. He was grateful that she’d come into his life at exactly right moment.
“Have a seat,” she said breathlessly, nodding toward the folding chair.
“I’d rather stand.” He was tired of sitting, especially around her.
“I’m too short to reach your head, and we need to change that bandage.”
After lunch yesterday, the nurse who had done his first, and if Chad had anything to say about it, only home visit, had shown Lindsey how to change his bandages and explained how often it needed to be done and told her the signs to look for that hinted he needed to see a professional. He’d tried to block out the entire ordeal. It was humiliating to be talked about as if he were nothing more than a wounded body, but Lindsey never made him feel that way. So yes, he was grateful for what she did for him, but even more grateful for how she made him feel. He was forced to lean on her now to hop to the chair. He let go as soon as he could, holding on to the chair back to get his weight off her. He was about to plop onto the towel-shrouded seat, when she stopped him with a firm hand on his belly.
“Maybe we should get you naked before you sit,” she said.
“You first,” he said.
He expected her to protest, but she slipped her top off over her head and kicked her knit pants and shoes aside. Now in her bra and panties, she peeled his shirt off over his head and then crouched to tug his shorts down—or to try to. They got hung up on his hard-as-stone dick.
“Sorry,” he said, though, honestly, he wasn’t the least bit sorry. “It’s completely inappropriate for me to get hard for my nurse.”
Her hand slid down his shorts and freed his cock from its entanglement. His breath stalled in his throat even though her touch was more purposeful than erotic.
“You’d better not get hard for her,” Lindsey said, looking more devil than angel as she looked up at him. “I want this all for myself.”
She licked the head of his cock, sending ripples of pleasure up his shaft to travel through every inch of his body.
He shifted to his left to try to regain his sudden loss of balance. She grabbed his wrist to steady him, her eyes trained on his as she blew a breath across the wetness she’d left on his cockhead. His balls tightened, and his thigh quivered.
“I think I need to sit down,” he said.
She smirked. “I knew I’d get you to cooperate.”
He chuckled and did his best not to collapse onto the folding chair. He really needed to work on sitting more gracefully. She folded the wheelchair and tucked it against the closed bathroom door to give herself more room. When she knelt between his legs, he was very aware that he only had to lift one foot for her to finish removing his shorts. Holding his gaze, she placed a hand on each of his thighs and pushed his legs apart. He shoved feelings of vulnerability aside and held his ground, curious about what she planned to do next.
“You smell like sex after you work out,” she said. “It makes me want to lick the sweat off your balls.”
His jaw dropped. God, she turned him on when dirty words came out of that sweet-looking mouth of hers.
“By all means,” he managed to say. He gripped the edges of the chair seat so he didn’t get in her way. Josie wouldn’t let him come near her when he was sweaty and stinky, so this was something new for him. Don’t think about Josie, he reminded himself as Lindsey’s hand circled his shaft and she lowered her head. Her silky blond hair covered his lap, so he couldn’t see what she was doing, but lord, he could feel it. He closed his eyes and lost himself to her warm, wet tongue and her soft lips as she pleasured every millimeter of his sac. He was soon seeping so much precum that it dripped over his rim and onto her fingers.
She leaned away, her eyes trained on his cock. He clenched his jaw when her thumb rubbed over his rim to collect his fluids.
“Do you want me to rub one out for you,” she asked, “or can you wait?”
“I’ll come after I fuck you, after I make you come,” he said. He lifted a hand to the gauze taped to his head. “Do you want me to start before or after you change my bandage? Because I’m seconds from tackling you to the floor and seeing how long it takes to get you off this time.”
She directed the tip of his cock into her mouth and did a quick job of sucking him clean before rising to her feet. “Duty before pleasure,” she said.
She carefully peeled the bandage off the side of his head and cringed at what must be a horrible sight.
“How does it look?” he asked, not sure if he wanted her to say how disfigured that side of his face would always be. His ear had been hanging on by an inch of flesh when they pieced his scalp back together and sewed him up.
“No signs of infection, but it’s going to scar,” she said, her touch light as she caressed the tender flesh from his temple to his jawline.
“Pretty gross, huh?”
“Not gross, jagged. Lots of stitches. It looks like it hurts.” She kissed the unbroken skin just in front of the stitches which pulled and itched now that they were exposed to the air. “I wish I could take all your pain away.”
“Actually,” he said, “I feel pretty damn good whenever I’m with you.”
She kissed his temple tenderly once more. “Then I’m here to stay.”
Because she pitied him? Was that why she vowed to stay? He didn’t want that to be her reason, but he was still too emotionally fragile to push her aside.
“We’ll let those stitches breathe while I wash your hair,” she said.
He would very much like her to cover the gash with a fresh bandage so she wasn’t forced to look at it. She’d likely have nightmares over the hideous injury for the rest of her life. When she moved to stand behind him and used a cup to pour warm water over his head, he forgot to be unreasonable. The water that trickled down over his neck, back, and shoulders cooled his skin, but as he was overwarm due to physical exertion and Lindsey’s close proximity, the sensation felt good. Not as good as her gentle hands on his scalp as she worked a smidge of shampoo into his inch-long hair, but her every action aroused him on a new level.
“Your hair is a little darker than Owen’s,” she said.
“Can you stop comparing me to my brother all the time?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that it upset you.”
And now he felt like an ass for bringing it to her attention. It shouldn’t upset him; she was just comparing their hair color. “It is darker than his and curlier when it’s long.” Which Chad had always hated, so he preferred a buzz cut even when he wasn’t wearing the uniform.
Lindsey held her hand along the gash on his scalp to direct the flow of soapy water away from the stitches.
“I’m making a huge mess,” she said, though the towels on the chair were absorbing all the water. “We probably should have done this in the yard.”
He wrapped a hand around the solid length of his shaft. “I’m sure Mrs. Futznitz would have been a tad scandalized by the sight of this.”
Lindsey giggled. “Even more so if she could read my thoughts about it.”
He wouldn’t mind reading her thoughts about it. Maybe. He might not want to know what she really thought of his body but was too nice to say.
She added shower gel to a soft sponge and began to rub it over his back and shoulders, arms and chest. Her other hand mirrored the same strokes to his soapy skin.
“You’re so hard,” she said as her hands moved up his chest.
He knew she meant his muscular body, but couldn’t resist teasing her. “Are you sure? You haven’t touched it in a while.”
Standing behind him, she pushed the sponge down his belly. Her breath tickled his ear as she said, “Hard abs too.” When the sponge touched his dick, his entire body jerked. “Hard cock. What else is hard, Mitchell?”
“Sitting still while you touch me. Hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
Her cheek moved against his, and he imagined she was smiling.
“I’m not finished yet.”
She leaned away and dipped the sponge into her bucket of water, rinsing the soap out of it by squeezing it several times. He wasn’t sure why that simple action had his balls tightening in protest at having to wait. He was thoroughly enjoying this sponge bath.
Lindsey used the sponge to remove the traces of soap from his skin, rinsing the sponge several times and using a towel to dry him as she went. He figured she was about finished until she pulled the bucket around to the front of the chair and knelt. She held his gaze as her fingers moved to the edge of the bandage that covered his stump or—what had that physical therapist called it?—his residual limb.
“Lindsey, don’t,” he said, taking her hands in his. She didn’t pull away, just looked up with compassion written across her face and shining in her eyes.
“Why not? Your bottom half needs to be cleaned too.”
“I don’t want you to have to look at it. It’s disgusting.”
“It’s part of you,” she said, her gaze still holding his. “No part of you could ever disgust me.”
“Not even my toenail clippings?”
She laughed and shook her head. “Not even your toenail clippings.”
“I don’t feel comfortable with my stump exposed.”
She nodded. “Okay, you can wash it later. I wish you’d let me massage it. The nurse said that would help it heal.”
The nurse had said that, but she’d never said that Lindsey had to suffer through the task. Chad had been doing that chore on his own so far and would continue to do so.
Lindsey added more shower gel to her sponge and soaped up his balls. The head of his dick somehow ended up in her mouth. His eyelids fluttered closed as he gave himself over to the pleasure she offered. She sucked his tip gently while she squeezed soapy water over his balls. It felt so good, he couldn’t catch his breath. The sponge moved to his inner thighs, his hips, outer thighs, and still she sucked him. She stopped just short of the bandage on his right leg but continued down over his knee, calf, and ankle of the left. His cock had to leave her mouth for her to wash his foot, but the sponge and her thumbs against his instep felt too good to pass up.
“Why don’t you trust me?” she asked.
His eyes popped open, and he looked down at her, wondering why she thought he didn’t trust her.
“I do trust you.”
“I’ll be gentle,” she said. “If I hurt you, I promise I’ll stop.”
She was still fixating on the one part of him not completely bare to her. “Why do you want to see it so bad? Do you have a stump fetish or something?”
Her eyes widened, and she flushed. “No, I just want to know all of you.”
“You’ll never know all of me because parts of me are missing.” His leg being the least important part that he’d lost on that battlefield.
A tear slipped down her cheek, and she ducked her head.
He pulled off the bandage and pointed at the neat row of stitches at the end of his stump. “If you want to see it so bad, there! Don’t cry over it, for fuck’s sake.”
“That’s not why.” She sniffed and rubbed a hand over one tear-soaked cheek and then the other, but she still wouldn’t look at him. “That’s not why I’m crying.”
“Then why?” He stroked her hair, his heart panging with hurt. For her. He’d rather suffer a thousand more wounds than see her shed a single tear.
“Because you haven’t.”
“Haven’t what, angel?”
“You haven’t grieved for everything you’ve lost, Chad. You haven’t cried, so I’ll cry for you.”
“How do you know that? Maybe I cry myself to sleep every night.” He smirked at her, not willing to admit that she was right. He hadn’t grieved the loss of his leg or Emerson or Jawa or even Josie, and he didn’t plan to. Not ever. “Now, please stop, angel. I can’t stand to see you hurting.”
“How do you think I feel seeing you hurt?”
“There’s not much pain, really,” he said. At least not the kind a few Tylenol couldn’t alleviate.
She bent her head and kissed his left thigh and then the right not far above where the bandage usually covered. She circled that thigh with both hands and looked up at him as she massaged the muscle, inching her way down. It took every bit of his self-control not to push her away. She wasn’t the one who had an issue with what remained of his leg—he was—and he wanted to prove to himself and to her that he didn’t need to grieve. He was glad to be alive. Any life was more than Emerson had, more than Jawa had.
He closed his eyes and concentrated on the feel of her hands on him. It wasn’t so strange really, her touching his leg. She never quite made it to the staples.
“It looks like it’s almost healed,” she said.
So she was looking at it. Closely.
“Staples come out in another week,” he said. “Then I can get a wooden peg, an eyepatch, and a parrot.”
“You’ll be able to get around so much easier,” she said. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep up with you.”
“I won’t leave you behind.” He opened his eyes and found her blinking back tears again. “I asked you not to do that, angel. Don’t cry for me anymore.”
“I’m not,” she said. “This time it’s for me. I’m extra emotional today.”
“Must be hormones,” he said.
She shook her head slightly. “It’s this guy I’m seeing.” She reached up to trace his lower lip with one fingertip. “He’s pretty terrific.”
So she admitted they were seeing each other. Maybe Chad did have a chance with her. And maybe it wasn’t pity or a sense of duty that caused her to like him. Maybe she liked him for who he was, even if he wasn’t some famous rock star. “Do I know the guy?”
“I think you might. He hangs out in your mirror.”
“I think I have seen him around. Is he clean enough to take you to bed now?” Because he wanted to make her body feel as good as his heart felt whenever she was near.
“Almost.” She used her sponge to clean all that remained of his right leg, using such care and tenderness that his chest ached. After drying the leg, she stood, but he caught her wrist.
“Come sit on my lap, angel,” he said. “Kiss me.”
“In a minute,” she said, tugging her wrist from his grasp. “I need to do something first.”
He scowled, wondering what could possibly be more important than kissing him, until she reached behind her back and unclasped her bra. She held his gaze as she slipped the straps from her shoulders, but he couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering as she peeled off her bra and dropped it on the pile of discarded clothing. His mouth watered at the sight of her full breasts—tips ruddy and peaked. He licked his lips, ready for a taste of her. She dropped her panties next and then lifted one leg and eased it over the chair to straddle him.
“Find me, Chad,” she whispered.
He grabbed his cock and rubbed the tip into her opening, and then he groaned when she sank down and buried him in her tight heat. She shifted to deepen their connection and wrapped her arms loosely around his neck.
“That’s better,” she whispered before leaning in to claim his mouth in a deep kiss.
He fought the urge to thrust as she kissed him and kissed him and kissed him some more. Oh God, he needed to move.
“Angel?” he muttered into her mouth.
“Yes?”
“Are you able to . . . move in that position?”
“You told me to sit on your lap and kiss you,” she said, her lips pecking the tip of his nose. “I’m just following instructions.”
He recognized the teasing light in her eyes and couldn’t be cross with her.
“So, if I requested that you fuck me . . .”
“I’d fuck you. But I was hoping you’d want to make this last a while. Take it slow.”
She pressed her feet to the floor and lifted her hips slowly. He groaned as pleasure rippled through his flesh. His breath caught when she stopped—his tip barely penetrating her—and then she slowly lowered over him again.
“Slow,” he said, threading his fingers through her hair and tilting her head back so he could suck kisses down her throat. “Slow is good. So good.”
But making love was the only thing he wanted to go slow with Lindsey. He was on the fast track to falling for her completely and making himself vulnerable again. He knew he was opening himself up for more heartache, but he didn’t care. Josie had been his first love, but a voice deep inside his heart told him Lindsey’s love would be everlasting, so as she pushed him beyond the peak of rapture, he held her tight and silently vowed to never let her go.
