Page 68 of Billionaire Lumberjack's Bargain

I know I’m not imagining the pull between us that’s developed over the last several months. I’m not just seeing what I want to or reading into the situation because she’s vulnerable.

Camille isn’t in any place to want anything from me other than my help on her homestead—and I may have offered her more, but I won’t bring it up again.

Never.

Not even when she finally lays her hands on me.

Pushing up on my elbow, I roll over onto my stomach, turning my head to one side so I can watch her out of the corner of my eye.

She moves toward the bed slowly, cautiously, like I’m a wounded animal who might strike, but I am far from it. If anything, she’s like a fucking lion tamer who has somehow managed to wrangle me into submission just by being kind, by doing something no one else ever really has, forcing me to take care of myself.

Her knee hits the mattress, and she shifts closer to me.

The towel still lies wrapped around my waist, covering my lower back to mid-thigh.

She clears her throat. “I’m going to have to move this down a little.”

I nod my approval, afraid of trying to voice my consent when it feels like I’m hanging on a razor-thin edge of something Ican’tfall off.

Her soft fingers brush against my skin as she slides them beneath the terry cloth. My whole body twitches, then tenses at the electrical current that buzzes through every nerve ending with her simple caress.

Not pain.

Far fucking from it.

She tugs on the towel hard enough to release the loose tie at the front and nudges it down until I can feel the cool air of the room brush against the top of my ass.

Her eyes linger on my lower back, on the scars crisscrossing it, and she worries her bottom lip between her teeth and looks like she’s fighting something she wants to say.

Part of me wants to know what it is, but more of me just needs her hands on me again.

My cock stirs, pinned between my pelvis and the mattress beneath me, just anticipating that soft caress again.

“You’re going to have to tell me if it’s too much, if it hurts in certain places, what feels good and what—”

“Camille…”

She glances at me, and I push up on my elbow so I can turn my head fully back to her.

“I will be fine.”

I hold her gaze for as long as she allows it, trying to ensure she sees how much I mean it.

Hownotworried I am that she could inadvertently hurt me.

She finally gives a little bob of her head and reaches forward, pressing her palms flat against my back, drifting over it in a way that makes me release a sharp hiss before I drop my forehead into my pillow.

Camille thinks this will help, but it’s going to be absolute fucking torture at the same time.

* * *

CAMILLE

Dalton trembles under my touch, and I push my thumbs into the tense muscles along the base of his spinal column, feeling along the rigid bone and metal hardware there.

God, these surgeries must have been agonizing…

He issues a low groan with the increased pressure, a sound that sends a rush of heat between my legs embarrassingly fast.

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