Page 68 of Wallflower in Bloom

He grew more irritated with each second. She rarely accepted help; she wouldn’t believe what he said. “I choose my words very carefully, Violet.” His voice was stern, and she looked over her shoulder to see him. “I am not in the habit of lying. Aside from this whole fake dating thing. It never occurs to me to lie to people I care about.”

“You care about me?” she said slowly, her eyes meeting his.

His heart couldn’t take it. She was absolutely too sweet. “Of course I care about you. You take care of everyone. I need you to take care of yourself too.”

“I’m sorry,” she said reflexively, her eyes downcast.

“Well, now you’ve done it,” he said, tongue in cheek with a comically arched eyebrow. “You said the forbidden word.” She laughed and shook her head as she lay back down.

His hands rubbed into her back, and as he leaned over her, his hold on his restraint broke. “Your punishment is to tell me your list of things you want to try.”

She went very still.

“You…you remember that?”

“Of course. I was concussed, not blackout drunk. Now, where does it hurt?”

“Um…” She paused. “In my shoulders.”

He smoothed a hand over both shoulder blades, his thumbs digging into tense, knotted muscles. “Right here?”

“Holy shit,” she moaned from the depth of her soul.

His cock instantly went rock-hard, and he realized this was a brainless idea. He wouldn’t be able to stand for two weeks if she kept moaning under him like that.

He kept rubbing her muscles anyway, digging into her shoulder blades to make her feel better. “This pressure okay?”

“Yes,” she sighed out the word, drawing it out in pleasure.

Fuck me; this was a bad idea. But he had to keep going. Needed to hear her moan at least one more time.

The work shirt she had on was rough under his fingers. He’d noticed Violet’s skin was sensitive. Even the barest scrape would leave a mark.

“Is the fabric hurting your skin?”

“Um, it’s not too bad,” she said hesitantly.

“You could take it off,” he offered. Please say yes.

She froze, her voice barely a whisper. “I don’t have a tank top underneath.”

Jackpot. “Even better,” he said, giving her a wry grin.

They were both adults, and she was currently in pain. He was just helping, right?

She rolled her tongue over her lip, thinking for a minute, and sat up. He wanted a taste of that tongue again. Would kill to see her tits.

She turned her back to him as she unbuttoned her shirt.

The back of her work shirt slid down her shoulders and revealed the straps of another lacy bra that would haunt his thoughts. The shirt lay down around her elbows, and he moved his hands along her shoulder blades, feeling her warm, velvet-soft skin.

Her back was to him, and as her head lolled to the side, he had a picture-perfect view of the breasts he’d fantasized about since the last time he saw them.

Fuck my promises. I’ll happily get knocked on my ass by Gray for a taste of her.

His lips grazed her nape as his thumbs worked in the muscles of her back. She leaned back against him and gasped as he found a knot in her shoulder blades. What he’d give to hear that gasp again.

And again.

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