Page 9 of No Strings Attached

Please don’t make me regret accepting Morgan’s kindness.

“Do you think I should get changed?” Sam couldn’t remember the last time he’d had new clothes. Everything he owned was given to him by the donation center where he used to volunteer or from someone who’d given Sam their couch to sleep on for a few days.

Somersaults erupted in his heart when Morgan smiled at him. “I don’t see why not.”

Tossing the sheet aside, Sam slid his legs over the side of the bed and winced at the pain in his back. He pressed his hands into the mattress, giving himself a second.

Morgan stood and took Sam’s hands, helping him to his feet. Now Sam was staring directly at the deputy’s chest. He’d never been this close to anyone so huge. Morgan’s biceps were bigger than one of Sam’s thighs.

The guy grabbed the clothes from the bed and handed them to Sam.

“Thank you.” Sam hurried to the bathroom, closed the door, and then rubbed the fabric of the shorts over his face. They felt like cool water against his skin.

The gown fell away easily enough, but when Sam tried to slide his legs into the shorts, he whimpered. The stitches pulled tight, making his back throb.

“Are you okay in there?” Morgan asked from the other side of the door.

Sam dropped the shorts on the floor to see if he could step into them and pull them up, but it hurt to bend. He tried leaning to his side to lift them, but that didn’t work either.

No wonder he was asked if there was anyone at home to help him. He couldn’t even put on a pair of shorts. “I, uh, I might need a hand.”

The door opened, and Morgan looked at the floor where the shorts were. Sam quickly covered his groin with his hands since he didn’t have on any underwear.

“I can’t seem to put them on.” He looked away, embarrassed he was naked in front of a total stranger. A gorgeous stranger.

Morgan squatted and grabbed the shorts. “Hold my shoulders and lift your leg slightly.”

If Sam did that, he couldn’t cover his cock. “I’m naked.”

Morgan looked up at him. “I’m aware.”

Biting his lip, he did as Morgan asked. Sam was mortified that Morgan’s face was right in front of his junk. But the guy didn’t say anything as Sam lifted his feet one at a time and Morgan slid the shorts on.

They felt so nice gliding up his legs. The material was so soft and light that it didn’t even feel like he was wearing them. Even better, they fit perfectly.

Morgan grabbed the shirt off the sink where Sam had set it and helped him put it on. For someone so large, the guy was surprisingly gentle.

“Do you need help getting back to bed?”

Sam shook his head, avoiding eye contact. “I think I’m good.”

When they returned to the room, Morgan grabbed the bag and pulled out a pair of tan sandals. The kind that had two straps over the top of your feet with a buckle on each strap. “I got you these, too.”

Before he reached out and took them, Sam blinked several times. Then he glanced up at Morgan. “Why are you doing this for me?”

“It’s called kindness.” Morgan’s brown eyes sparkled with humor, making Sam blush.

An hour later, Morgan was still with Sam as Eddy, the transportation guy, wheeled him downstairs and toward the sliding glass doors of the exit.

Sam wasn’t sure what he was going to do now. He had nowhere to go and no car. He didn’t even have any money to feed himself.

Eddy stopped to say something to a young woman behind the information counter, and that was when Sam saw the burgundy car through the large glass windows.

He would know that car anywhere.

Panicked, Sam pushed himself from the wheelchair, hissing at the pain in his back.

“Whoa!” Morgan grabbed Sam’s arms to steady him. “What’re you doing?”

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