Page 40 of Skin Deep

“Let me cut your arms free before you lose circulation.”

I nodded and stayed still while he cut through the zip tie with the scalpel. I groaned again, this time in relief, as my arms came free. My wrists and shoulders ached, my ass was sore, and my leg was on fire, but it was all a good kind of pain. I was on top of the world, floating high on the whole experience.

So why the fuck did I burst into tears?

“Hey, are you okay?” Paxton asked, kissing my cheek.

“I don’t know,” I admitted through the tears. “I’ve never… That was… I…”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to talk. Just feel it out. I got you.” One of his massive hands curled around the side of my face and he tipped my head up to kiss me gently again.

“I promise I don’t usually cry after sex,” I managed, pawing at the tears coming from my eyes. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Warrick, baby, I am not judging you. I’mholdingyou and I’m telling you it’s okay. The shit we did was fucking intense. After that we’re both going to have some heavy feelings to unpack, but right now… Just breathe for me, baby, okay?”

I nodded and sucked in a few shaky breaths, focusing on that until the tightness in my chest released. The way he gently stroked his thumb over my cheek and breathed with me helped.

“Better?” Paxton asked.

I nodded again.

“Good. Bathroom?”

“Next door,” I said, nodding to the door.

“Right. Don’t move a muscle. I’ll be right back.”

Pax lifted me with a small grunt and I flushed at the feeling of him sliding his softening cock from my body. He slipped off the full condom, tied it up, and headed for the bathroom. When he came back, it was with one of my good towels, but I didn’t have the words to tell him not to use it to clean me up. I was sodirty. My chest started to feel tight again as he tried to clean up the mess everywhere. What if he didn’t want to shower? What if he wanted me to stay dirty? I couldn’t… I just couldn’t do it.

He sighed, looking around, and picked up the scalpel, putting it on the bedstand where it couldn’t do any more harm. “Think we might need something more than a towel.”

“Shower,” I blurted desperately.

“Took the word right out of my mouth,” he agreed.

My shoulders slumped in relief, the tightness in my chest releasing a little more.

Warwouldneveradmitit, but he craved soft touches as much as he wanted pain. He didn’t let go of me the entire time we showered together, and he was thorough about the shower. I washed him head to toe, savoring the gentler touches.

After I washed him, he washed himself with shower gel, and then a bar of antibacterial soap, and then an additional antimicrobial cleanser before repeating the process again. He started to seem a little distressed about it, and I didn’t know what to do at first, whether I should step in and help or stop him. War had explained why he needed to do it—his fear of getting sick—but I also knew he was smart enough to understand that what he was doing wouldn’t have any effect.

When he reached for the shower gel a fourth time, I knew I couldn’t take watching him do it again. His skin was already red from being scrubbed so hard. He was going to hurt himself. I put my hand over his. Cold water sluiced down over my arm, over him. Cold enough that he was shivering, his teeth chattering. He looked at me with those big, sad eyes and broke into tears for the second time that night.

I shut off the shower, picked him up and wrapped him up in some towels, second guessing my decision to intervene as he cried against me. It was done though. I couldn’t take it back and had to stand by it.

“What can I do to help?” I whispered and put him down so I could gently towel off his soaked hair.

“I don’t know.” He looked so small and vulnerable standing there shivering and wet.

My instincts were screaming that I should take him somewhere warm immediately, somewhere safe where the lights weren’t so harsh. The bed was still a mess, so that was off limits, but he did have a sofa downstairs. He didn’t fight me as I walked him there, or as I pulled the worn blanket off the back and wrapped it around his shoulders.

Still naked, I sat next to him and pulled his head to my chest, holding tightly onto him. Maybe that would be enough to communicate that I wasn’t going to leave. I’d call Mrs. T, call off work, do whatever it took to make sure he was taken care of.

When he stopped shivering, I pulled the blanket back enough to glance down at the cuts on his leg. They’d stopped bleeding, but they were still open, and I wanted to get a bandage on them as soon as he’d let me.

“This is nice,” War said and turned his nose in against my chest. “You smell like me now.”

“Are you feeling better?” I asked, and he nodded. “Good enough to let me get a bandage on these?”

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