Page 34 of Wild Side
“At… at… uh…” I stutter, and his gaze drops to the hem of my shorts, eyes skirting the curve of my ass. My cheeks flare.God. Who knows what he can see from that angle?
“At the back,” I say, forcing the words out through a dry throat.
He returns his attention to the task at hand and emerges with the white box. He opens it right there on the floor with a near-violent flick and rummages inside before grumbling something I can’t make out, right as his fingers wrap around the burn lotion.
“It’s not—”Necessaryis what I’m about to say, but he stands now, towering over me and stealing my words. He slaps the tap off, and then his hands are on my waist, the contact like an electric current zipping across my skin.
It makes me hiss out a breath that he mistakes for pain.
“I’m fine,” he mutters, mimicking me while shaking his head. Then he hoists me up onto the counter like I’m a feather and steps close enough that my knees bump against his steely quads.
He’s still inspecting my burn with an expression that makes it seem like it’s offended him. When he carefully swipes the lotion over my pink skin, it’s too much. Deep down, I feel like I don’t deserve the level of doting.
He’s too gentle. So handsome that it hurts. I’m forced to look away from the way he tends to me.
Stupidly, I opt to soak in his naked torso instead. A fool’s strategy to keep from wanting to climb him.
My eyes trace hard line after hard line, the masculine dark hair leading up from his waist, a bit thicker on his chest.
Then I stop.
Just below his right collarbone is a heavy bruise, its edges fading to yellow. Without thinking, I reach up and run my fingertips over it, as if I can wipe it away. But it does no such thing.
“What is this?”
“A bruise.” Leave it to Rhys to give me nothing.
“From what? What the hell kind of porn are you filming?”
“I don’t do porn, Tabby.” Despite his harsh tone, he continues rubbing my hand gently. “I already told you that.”
“You did. But I don’t believe you. Are you okay?” I let my genuine worry seep into my words, hoping he’ll hear my concern. My fingers move away from the bruise and trail up over his collarbone, as though checking for any further damage of their own accord.
I shift my body to look at him, trying to make eye contact, but he keeps his focus on my hand. I swear I can hear his teeth grind. “I’m fine. And even if I wasn’t, it’s none of your business.”
Rearing back at that, I regard him more coolly now, yanking my hand away with enough force that I finally break free from his hold. Of course, his body still has me caged in where I’m seated.
“The feeling is mutual, and yet you hauled me up here to fix what wasn’t your business.”
“You need help.”
A dry laugh crests my lips. “What?”
Rhys glares down at me and moves his hands to either side of my hips, propping them against the counter, effectively caging me in. “With Milo. I’ve been here for all of three days, and it’s been busy with both of us taking care of him. I can see you’re doing too much for one person. You’re tired. You’ve lost weight. You need help.”
Now it’s my turn to go rigid. Sure, I’m tired a lot. And yes, sometimes I forget to eat more than coffee.
But that’s not why I spilled the hot liquid on myself.
They say the days are long, but the years are short. Soon Milo won’t need me the way he does right now. And I don’t begrudge him this time. I revel in it, especially knowing Rhys could yank it out from under me at any moment.
“Oh, and you think you can do better?”
One firm nod from the mountain man. “I can afford to hire help.”
My jaw goes slack. He hit me right where it hurts. In the finances. “Are you kidding me right now? That’s your grand plan? Take Milo away from everything he knows and hire help to care for him?”
Rhys maintains an emotionless stare and says nothing.
