Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Josie’s laughter and amusement died when Houston said, “Do you mind doing that massage now?”
Right. He wanted her to touch him.
Sloshing water over the rim of the glass as he unsteadily set it down on the table, Houston sank back into his chair with a stifled sigh. He sucked the spilled water off his hand, his lips making soft wet sounds, and Josie was nothing short of envious.
She wanted him to do that to her. Suck with soft, wet sounds. With shaking fingers, she approached his shoulders like they were radioactive, touching lightly, wincing at how warm and solid his muscles were. “Sure, now’s a good time.”
To torture herself.
But then she reminded herself that Houston’s asking for help was nothing short of miraculous and that she should see it as a sign of trust.
Resolute, she dug her fingers into his flesh, kneading and stroking along his back, fanning out towards his shoulders.
She worked the bronze flesh there, noticing it was a shade darker than the rest of his back, and that he had a smattering of cute freckles that had her mouth itching to kiss.
A rush of air expelled from him in what might have been pleasure or pain, she wasn’t sure.
“Is this okay? Am I pushing too hard?”
“No, that’s perfect.” His voice was quiet, throaty.
“Great.” Josie rolled her thumbs up his neck to where the fine black hairs scattered across the nape before ascending into the thick throng of short hair.
He gave a low groan.
After a minute she settled into the motion, enjoying the feel of him beneath her fingers, as she ran up and down the warm flesh and occasionally stole into his glossy black hair. Her breasts hovered close to his back and the muscles in his arms and torso flexed and reacted to her touch.
“Did you hurt your neck, or is it just sore?”
“It’s sore from sleeping on my back. I usually sleep on my side, but that tugs my leg, so I’m laid flat-out and it’s killing my neck.”
Josie moved down his arms, giving firm pressure with her thumbs, and he gave a soft moan of approval, which she barely noticed. She was distracted by thoughts of him suffering in pain.
She remembered the way he had looked when she’d entered the ER—covered in blood, every inch of his calf chaffed, scraped, shredded, or punctured.
He had been on his surfboard, and a shark had lunged from underneath and done that to him.
It made her shudder just thinking about it and what could have been the possible outcome.
“Did it... was it awful?” The question popped out of her mouth before she could prevent it, and she cursed herself.
He glanced back at her, his eyebrows raised. “What? Was what awful?”
Her hands stilled on his elbows. “What happened to your leg, I mean.”
“The shark?” Houston didn’t sound angry, just confused.
“Yes. I’m sorry, that’s a stupid question. Of course it was awful.”
The silence drew out and she studied the back of his head, wanting to just run her fingers into his thick black hair, lean her chest against him, and hold him to her.
Houston spoke slowly. “I don’t know if awful is the right word. It’s like, it happens and you just react, and then it’s over.” He shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense, does it?”
“I think so.” And she did. It had been like that when her dad had died. It happens, and you react, and later—much later—you start to deal with it.
Houston would still be dealing with the results of his accident for a long time.
“It was so fast. I thought I saw something, then there it was, on my leg, and I didn’t feel any pain and I wasn’t really even scared.”
Josie suspected she would have been scared enough to wet her bathing suit. She wasn’t aware she was squeezing his shoulders until he winced. She gentled her touch, returning to slow, smooth strokes. “Oh, sorry.”
“I don’t know what to call it,” he said suddenly. “I mean, was it an accident? Was it an attack? People ask me what happened and I say I was bitten by a shark, and they get these horrible looks on their faces.” He played with the fork lying on his used dinner plate and shook his head.
“I was on the news, you know. It’s embarrassing.”
“I heard, but I didn’t see it.” It had seemed almost rude to watch it. Invasive. “Did they have footage of you while you were in the hospital? I didn’t know Acadia Inlet would allow that.”
“No, they had random footage of the beach, and interviews with witnesses. They threw my hospital staff picture up there.” He gave a soft laugh. “My mom saved it on her phone.”
“You’re kidding!” Josie laughed. “That is something my mom would do, too.”
“I’m just sorry she had to worry about me.” Houston reached back and tapped her hand. “Thanks, that’s good. I’m going to back the chair up.”
As Josie stepped away so he could stand up, she told him, “She always worries about you, shark bite or not, because she’s your mother.”
Pulling himself up by the edge of the table, he hovered until he got his balance. “I wish she wouldn’t. I’m a big boy now.”
His eyes smoldered suggestively as he turned to her, but Josie ignored the attempt to distract her. What Houston either didn’t know or refused to admit was that his mother was going to worry about him until she decided that he was happy, something age and success had nothing to do with.
Josie took a risk. “She said she had a bad marriage and it wasn’t healthy for you.”
Anger flared in Houston’s eyes, his grip on the table tightening. He crumpled up the paper plate in front of him, resting against the table with his thighs. Silent, jaw clenched, he stood there.
Josie moved around him to clear the table. “Here, let me get your plate.”
When she tried to take it, he pulled his hand back. “Don’t clean up after me. I don’t need your help.”
“It’s not a big deal.” She made another reach for the garbage.
He held fast to the plate. “Everything is a big deal. Josie, damn it if you keep coming around here like this I’m going to hurt you. I don’t want to do that.”
Chin up, she stared him down. “I’m a big girl, just like you’re a big boy. And I want to be here.”
By the time he was back at work and her residency over, she’d probably be a sobbing sack of lovesick lust, but hey, you only lived once.
Which was why, with determination, she showed up at Houston’s condo the next day after her shift and let herself in the front door again without knocking. And was greeted with the bib-requiring sight of him bent over the kitchen sink in black briefs and nothing else, attempting to wash his hair.
Water was sluicing down his bronzed back as he bent over, struggling with the little metal sprayer, his hair piled high with an excessive amount of bubbles. Josie almost had an orgasm standing in the doorway.
Well, not actually, but it sure felt close as her thighs twitched and ached.
And all moisture evaporated from her mouth, while an equal and opposite reaction occurred in her panties.
Her nipples sprung up like spring tulips and rubbed against her white tank top.
If he turned around, kissed her, and just swiped one little finger anywhere in the area between her waist and knees, she was going to come.
Not that he even knew she was there. He was too busy swearing at the sprayer and trying to stretch it farther than the metal hose would allow.
“Damn it,” he said, swiping at his eye as an errant bubble slid past his dark eyebrow.
The sharp jerk made his butt tense up, the muscles flexing and clenching, and Josie knew she had to get the hell out of there before she was tempted to do some spanking of her own. Given that his kitchen was tiny at best, he was within grabbing distance and she just didn’t trust herself.
Covering her mouth to contain her drool, she backed up and misjudged the archway to the kitchen. She slammed into the wall with all the force of her ass. The bump could be heard even over the water as Houston’s wall clock rattled and threatened to hit the floor.
Houston turned, grabbing the counter for leverage, dragging the sprayer with him. Lukewarm water hit Josie in the chin and shoulder before he let go of the button and the water flow returned to the faucet.
She sputtered, wiping water off her chin, while his expression shifted from startled to amused. “Argh, Houston, you got me wet!”
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” he said, stretching up to his full length, favoring his bad leg.
There was truth to that, but she ignored it.
Shampoo was still clinging to his head, and a small rivulet of sudsy water slid down the right side of his cheek, but he still looked incredible. All hard and golden and broad, a confident man with a new vulnerability.
Shoot, she was an idiot. A big, Josie Adkins idiot. She couldn’t resist mint chocolate chip ice cream, what made her think she could resist Houston?
“You still have shampoo in your hair,” she said, because it seemed like the thing to say.
Houston rubbed his left hand over his wet hair and dropped his eyes to her tank top. A slow smile started to spread. “You interrupted me.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to. Do you want some help rinsing?” Which was a ridiculous offer to make, given her sudden state of lust-driven paralysis. That close to him, her belly pressing his butt, her fingers in his short hair, it was highly likely she’d make a fool out of herself.
“I can get it.” Houston bent back over, holding his leg stiff. His bandaged right hand was tucked beneath the sink while his left hand worked the spray.
It wasn’t an efficient system. With only one hand, he couldn’t rub out the suds and he shot water just about everywhere but the top of his head.
“Here, I’ll hold the sprayer and you can use your hand to get the shampoo out,” she told him, coaching herself to be professional, friendly, nonsexual.
“I’ll hold the sprayer.” His voice was muffled by the stainless steel sink. “I don’t trust you with it.”
“What do you think I’m going to do? Flood your kitchen?” She took a step closer to him, drawing deep breaths that were completely platonic in nature.
“It’s possible.”
He got the water flow going in the general direction of his head, though quite a river was flowing down his back and soaking his briefs until they clung to him, damp and tight.
Josie stayed clear of the butt zone, keeping a solid two feet between them before she leaned over and briskly rubbed his head.
Which vibrated his whole body back and forth. His sprayer hand shifted, sending a steady steam of water right into her chest. Damp cotton clung to her as she shrieked and tried to move out of the line of fire.
“What’s the matter?”
“My shirt got all wet.”
Houston didn’t say anything, but his arm readjusted and sent the water back towards his head. Josie took all ten fingers and raked along his head as fast as she could without removing his scalp until the shampoo was gone.