Page 7 of Rushed: Christopher

When it was all over, I was sprawled out on my back on the very hard floor with many, many mini razor-like claws embedded in my chest. To make matters worse, several pieces of what had once been some kind of side table were scattered around and beneath me, proving my pride and the freaked-out ball of fur hanging onto my chest hadn’t been the only victims of my clumsiness. The glass that was near my hip indicated there’d been at least one other victim of the melee. From the size of the pieces, I guessed I’d managed to take down a lamp, shattering the bulb in the process.

“Oh God,” I heard someone cry. Definitely not King, so that left Christopher. My body hurt like a son of a bitch as I shifted my weight a bit before detaching the kitten from my chest. The pitiful little thing was making soft mewling sounds but otherwise seemed to be okay. Before I could sit up, Christopher was at my side.

“Careful, there’s glass,” I said as I took in Christopher’s bare feet. Instead of him risking cutting himself by getting too close to me, I lifted the kitten toward him as best as I could. Predictably, he snatched the little thing up and hugged it to his chest. I dropped my head back down as I took stock of my injuries, which I knew were nowhere near as severe as the hit to my pride.

“You okay?” I heard King ask. I could hear the humor in his voice and knew I wouldn’t be hearing the end of this for a long while. I had my eyes closed, but I could already sense his presence standing above me, probably near my feet.

I opened my mouth to tell him to fuck off but then suddenly Christopher was saying, “Here, take him.” Confused by the statement, I opened my eyes only to find Christopher in the process of gently handing over the kitten to King, and then he was dropping to his knees next to me. I managed to swipe my hand across the floor to clear away most of the glass before Christopher’s body came in contact with it.

“What hurts?” Christopher asked as he took my hand in his. Despite the laughable situation, there was nothing funny about the sparks of energy that danced up my arm as Christopher’s slim fingers came into contact with my skin. The young man’s worried emerald eyes scanned my body.

It felt like he was doing it with his fingers. At least, that was the way my body was reacting to the whole thing. God, if hedidstart putting his hands on me…

“I’m good,” I said as I tried to sit up. Christopher’s surprisingly strong hands closed over my shoulders, stopping me from sitting up all the way.

“No, give it a minute. You hit your head. You’re bleeding.”

At most, the shoulder that had taken the brunt of the fall was a bit sore, so if there was any bleeding, the wound was paltry at best. I was about to tell Christopher pretty much exactly that when he leaned forward until his mouth was only half a dozen inches from mine. I doubted he even noticed the proximity because his eyes were focused on my temple. I was forced to brace myself on my elbows to maintain the position since the young man seemingly wasn’t going to let me sit up anytime soon, and I didn’t want to be flat on my back with him hovering over me.Thatwould have put way too many images in my head.

Of course, having Christopher’s supple lips righttherewasn’t ideal either. I was very close to telling him one kiss would make everything better.

“Does your neck or back hurt?” Christopher asked.

I was about to give him the stock answer that I was fine when he chose to look me in the eye again.

And something shifted inside of me.

The air between us became filled with tension, though neither of us moved. Not forward, not backward.

It would be so easy. A well-placed hand at the base of his neck, a few inches of leaning in…

Christopher sucked in a breath as he suddenly seemed to realize the position we were in… thathewas in. I fully expected him to jerk back or at least turn his head to break the contact, but to my surprise, he leaned in a little more. His fingers were still at my temple, but instead of exploring whatever injury was there, his thumb began rhythmically stroking back and forth while his palm covered the side of my face.

Holding me in place.

Not that I needed to be held. I had no intention of going anywhere.

It was the sound of the kitten crying that broke through the charged moment. Christopher lurched back so fast that I ended up putting my arm around his waist to keep him from scrambling away and cutting his feet on the little bit of glass that was still near us.

“You should, um, lay down on the couch, and I’ll… I’ll get some bandages for that cut,” Christopher said nervously. His eyes shifted to my arm that was still keeping him immobile. I reluctantly released him.

“I’m fine, really, Christopher. It’d take at least a coffee table and three floor lamps to take me out,” I joked.

The small smile that drifted across Christopher’s mouth was like watching the sun break through the clouds.

“I’ll be right back,” he said shyly, and then he was climbing to his feet. He stepped over my body, gracefully navigating the glass and wood, and then hurried up the stairs that I assumed led to his bedroom.

My eyes were still on his pert ass when I heard the crunching of glass.

Fuck.

I pushed myself to a sitting position, avoiding King’s eyes as long as possible. If the man had seen me ogling his nephew’s ass… well, then I really would be facing a world of hurt.

“Snipers, IEDs, suicide bombings, only to finally be taken down by three pounds of cuteness,” my boss said as he held out his hand. I grabbed it and let him pull me to my feet.

“Shut up,” I growled because I had nothing better to say. I glanced over my shoulder at the damage my clumsiness had caused. The table was beyond repair, but thankfully, the lamp hadn’t been damaged aside from the broken bulb. “Tell me that wasn’t some kind of family heirloom or something,” I said.

I looked around the house to try and figure out from the other furnishings if they were newer or if they had any kind of antique flair to them. That was when I noticed the wall between the kitchen and the dining room was being torn down.

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