Page 25 of Chasing Temptation
“You’re not the only one who thought they’d lost something. I’ll never forget that moment as I watched him slide that blade into your stomach.”
“I’m fine.”
“Just—”
“Ah, come on, babe. It’ll take more than a little knife wound to kill me off.”
“Little? You saw the size of that thing, right?” Of course I had, I was the one who grabbed it from the kitchen to free her from her restraints. “I need to change this dressing,” she says. Clearly her previous question was rhetorical.
She’s up off the sofa and at the other side of the room, rummaging through the bag of stuff we left the hospital with, before I have a chance to blink.
She lines everything up on the coffee table in front of us before turning back to me, ready to start picking off the wet bandage that’s still attached to my stomach. She starts scratching at the corner, trying to lift the sticky stuff, but it hardly budges now it’s dried.
When she does eventually manage to get enough up to grab, she pulls it and I cry out.
She damn near jumps a mile, her wide, panicked eyes turning to me. She’s totally horrified that she hurt me.
“Shit, I’m sorry. I was trying to be gentle.”
I try to stop my lips twitching, but I lose the fight and a wide smile tugs at my mouth.
“You little shit.” She swats my shoulder gently as she realises that I’m having her on. Okay, it hurt a little where it caught my hair, but it wasn’t a pain worth crying about. Who am I kidding? She’s got her hands on my bare skin. I’m not going to do anything to put an end to that.
She goes back to the task at hand and gently pulls the bandage from my skin. I’m fascinated by the sight of her delicate fingers touching me so softly.
“It looks like it’s healing well.”
“Good.” I don’t look at my wound. Instead my eyes lift to her as she works. Her dark, wet hair is falling like a curtain around her face as she studies my stomach. Every time her skin connects with mine, my muscles twitch, but at no point does it distract from how beautiful she is.
My cock stirs once again behind the towel, and she doesn’t miss it. Her eyes drop lower and a small smile curls at her lips.
“I’m pretty sure you should be focusing all your efforts on getting better,” she whispers.
“Not possible when you’re touching me.”
“Even after—”
My fingers circle her wrists, stopping any more movement and cutting off her words.
“I meant what I said. I’m in love with you, Quinn. What you went through and what he did doesn’t affect that. I want to kill that motherfucker with my bare hands for ever thinking it’s okay to lay a finger on you, but it’ll never stop me wanting you.”
Her eyes hold mine. It’s as if she’s waiting for me to tell her that I’m lying, but she’s going to be waiting a long time if that’s the case. My heart pounds against my ribs as I wait for her to do something, my cock pressing against the towel, hoping to get some action.
“You need to rest.”
Tugging on her wrist, I pull her so she’s hovering over me. “What I need is you.” Her eyes bounce between mine as she tries to figure out what to do for the best.
“If it hurts, at all, tell me and I’ll stop.” Her face is totally serious, and I find myself agreeing even though I already know that once she touches me, nothing will make me stop her.
She finishes reapplying my fresh bandage before dropping her lips to my abs. She kisses along the indentations until she finds the top of the towel. My eyes follow her every movement, my body desperate for her to unwrap the fabric and touch me after being away from her for so long.
My fingers dig into the sofa as I attempt to fight my need to flip her over and fuck her six ways from Sunday. I need to give her the space to do this at her own pace. I’ve no real idea where her head’s at right now. I don’t want her to feel like I’m pushing her into anything.
She glances up, wraps her fingers around the fabric at my waist, and smiles. It’s wicked and full of promises, and excitement explodes in my belly. After everything, my Quinn’s still in there somewhere. I can’t deny that it’s not a relief to see that little sparkle in her eyes.
Slowly, painfully fucking slowly, she pulls the towel from around my waist and allows it to fall to the sofa. Her eyes burn a trail down my torso before she finds my cock. She bites down on her bottom lip as she watches it twitch with need.
I wait. It’s hard as fuck—pun intended—but I’ll wait forever if I have to.
