Page 42 of Return to You

“Hey.” She managed to croak past the tightness in her throat. “I was just lookin—”

“What happened?” he cut her off, his voice was low and menacing.

The intensity in both his stare and question felt like a physical blow. It knocked the wind out of her and her answer came in a breathy exhale. “I fell.”

Kade reached out and gently held her hand so he could see her palm. His touch was featherlight. As the roughened pads of his fingers brushed her sensitive skin tingles spread from head to toe. Her heart pounded wildly as she watched him study her scrapes and tenderly turn her wrist. A moment ago all she could think about was her throbbing ankle; now another part of her body was throbbing and demanding her attention.

“Okay, well. It looks like you’re in good hands.” Keaton slowly dropped his arm from her waist, giving her time to gain her balance.

“Thanks, again,” she said as she clutched Kade’s forearm. “For everything.”

“No problem. See you guys later.” He smiled and she saw the disappointment in his eyes as he left Kade and Ali on the porch.

She watched him leave and wished things were different. He was a good guy. He was smart, funny, attractive, successful, and in ridiculous shape. He was going to make some woman very happy one day. She just wasn’t that woman and today wasn’t that day.

Before she’d even turned around, she was being lifted off the ground as Kade swooped her up in his arms.

“What are you doing?” she gasped as her arms wrapped around his neck.

He didn’t answer her, just stalked into the house. He shut the door behind them and carried her into the kitchen. Her breaths were coming in shallow pants as she clung to his neck. Being in his arms, smelling the musky scent, feeling his heart pounding against her ribs, seized her with overwhelming stimulation. Every cell in Ali’s body came to life with awareness. She felt more alive than she had in a very long time.

Warning bells sounded in her head. A caution sign flashed. Danger: Falling Deeper In Love Ahead.

Without a word, he sat her on the counter and turned on the faucet. Even through the cotton of her dress, the tile counter top was cold beneath her thighs and a shiver ran through her. He tested the water before placing her hand beneath it.

This entire scene was playing out like one of her McKnight-in-Shining-Armor fantasies. In one he rescued her from drowning and gave her mouth to mouth on the shore which leads to them making love beneath a blanket of stars. In another he saves her from a burning building, risking his own life to bring her to safety where they make passionate love on a blanket of soft grass.

But those were different. One because she was in actual peril in them but also because those scenarios were safe. They’d been in her imagination. In reality, giving up control, letting him “rescue” her, was a lot scarier. This might just be him cleaning her up but emotionally she felt like she was relenting power. Power that she needed to survive so she could save herself when he wasn’t around.

Needing to take some control back, Ali snatched her hand away “I’m fine. Thanks.”

He didn’t react. Instead, he ripped off his hand wraps and reached above the fridge and grabbed the first aid kit and hydrogen peroxide. He made quick work of dousing her cuts before blowing on her sensitive skin. His breath was cool but it caused her entire body to burst into flames of hot lust.

Ali watched as he covered her injury with Neosporin and placed a large bandage over it with a gentle touch. Then, without asking permission he lifted the hem of her dress up and the material bunched on her bare thighs. She sucked in a startled breath feeling exposed as he bent and examined her knee and ankle.

He took the same care with her knee that he had with her palm. When the bandage was in place, he turned his attention to her ankle. When he reached to touch it she instinctively moved it away. Her hand and knee were one thing, those were flesh wounds. Her ankle was another.

His eyes lifted to meet hers.

“It hurts,” she explained.

A cocky grin tilted on his lips. "I told you I’d never touch anything I don’t know I can fix."

“Do cheesy lines like that actually work for you?” Sarcasm dripped from her and she hoped it concealed the fact that very intimate parts of her body were screaming that they needed to be fixed.

His smirk grew wider as he began examining her ankle. “I don’t need lines.”

She let out a small huff of false disgust to disguise her impulse to agree with him. His ego was big enough without her stroking it. Besides, if she were going to stroke anything, it wouldn’t be his ego. That thought had her palm tingling and it wasn’t from the antibiotic ointment. It was from the image of her holding his heavy shaft in her hand, squeezing her fingers around it and pumping him until he…

“It’s just a sprain.” His diagnosis brought her back to reality.

She cleared her throat. “Thanks, Dr. Kade.”

He filled the sink with water and ice before one of his large palms rested on her hip and he shifted her body so he could place her foot in it. Then he went to the fridge and grabbed her a can of soda and handed her two ibuprofen tablets. He cleaned up the Band-Aid wrappers and put the first-aid kit back together before returning it to its home above the fridge.

“Stay there,” he instructed gruffly before walking out of the room.

She did as he asked because hopping down might hurt and she wanted to see how this played out. Having Kade’s undivided attention was not a bad way to end the day and watching him play doctor was going to give her plenty of inspiration for new rescue fantasies.

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