Page 50 of Killian
His mind was working. I could see it behind his eyes, like he was assessing. Maybe I’d get a small pass for a while. I knew I’d won when he let out a huff of air, turned around, and made his way down the hall to the bathroom.
This should be fun.
* * *
“Would you knock it off?”I asked, smacking Killian’s hand. “I’m capable of cleaning myself.”
This wasn’t all together true. It hurt like a bitch to move certain ways, and bending down wasn’t happening. But I didn’t need Killian’s help to shower. I could do what needed to be done, or at least I’d try.
“Know you are, but I’m helping. Get over it,” he charged back, his naked body grabbing my attention and not letting go. The plains and ridges that dipped in and out were a complete turn-on. “And if you keep staring at my cock, I’ll have to fuck you.”
My traitorous eyes flared up at him. “No sex!”
He smiled, and it was sexy as hell. “Were you this big of a pain in the ass back in high school?”
“Yep.”
His head shook. “Yeah.”
His strong hands glided up my legs with the soap as he washed me. While he took his time, he was efficient, making me wonder just how many showers this man had given. It was a dangerous path to go down, and I needed to stop it.
The here and now was the focus. All the other shit could wait until at least the shower was over. Small steps. Those I could do.
“You’re really liking this, huh?” Soapy hands glided softly up my ribs in a barely-there touch. It didn’t hurt one bit. He was being extra careful with me. That I loved.
“Anytime I can put my hands on you, I like it.”
This made me smile. How did it become so easy to talk to this man? To feel from this man. It seemed like only yesterday I’d seen him for the first time in years. Now, we were in the shower together, and he was washing me.
Strange how life gave you twists and turns. This one, though, I had no idea where it would lead. To crash and burn was probably the most accurate destination, and I couldn’t let that happen. My heart needed to stay out of the equation. No exceptions.
So what, he did nice things for me. So what, he stayed with me in the hospital. So what, he cooked for me. So what, he went to my place and brought me a ton of clothes—even putting them in his drawers.
Those things needed to stay on the sidelines. It was easy for me to get sidetracked and go down the path that would get me hurt. I tended to be a bad boy magnet, after all. This bad boy, though, would possibly be the death of me.
Hands gripped my hips and turned me so my chest was under the spray, soap gliding down the drain. Head massage. That was what he was doing. It wasn’t just shampooing my head. No, this was his fingers working, pressing, and kneading to the point my knees wanted to give out.
He repeated it with the conditioner, and I groaned when he turned me to the spray once more and rinsed my hair. Only then did he step under the spray, wash quickly, turn off the water, then get out and grab a towel for me, wrapping it around my dripping body.
The movements were precise and efficient. He didn’t draw out the touch on my skin or make any comments about tossing me to the bed. He was in job mode. Ignoring it, I put my hair up in a towel.
“I’ll get the stuff to wrap you up. You go in and sit on the bed.” Killian said.
I nodded, unable to speak. When in the world did Killian Graham turn into a hot nurse?
A few moments later, Killian came out of the bathroom, towel around his hips and medical supplies in his hands.
“Geeze. Are you performing surgery on me too?” I teased.
He grinned. “Maybe.” He pulled out the tape to wrap around me. “Arms out.” I followed his instructions as he wrapped the fabric around my chest. I didn’t know how this helped, but it did. Having the wrap on made the injury less painful.
Killian grabbed a tube of antibiotic ointment and began working on my face. It had started healing, but two of the cuts were pretty deep and needed to be attended to.
“You do this with all your women?”
His brow quirked, and his eyes narrowed. “You have something with that statement. Two times you’ve said it to me, and it’s the same answer as before—no, I only do it with you.”
What does that even mean?I didn’t ask as I winced, moving my butt on the bed to get better situated.
