Chapter Three #2
When they reached the great room at the back of the house, Cash turned right toward the expansive suite Harry used to occupy. It would be the perfect space for visiting family members. They’d have their own little area on the opposite side of the home from Cash, giving everyone a private space.
“Don’t want to go right,” Nick said. He stopped without warning and hissed at the discomfort, proving Cash’s earlier assessment had been right. No sudden movements. “I don’t want to go right. I want—I need—to be near you.”
As in Cash’s room? There were no guest rooms on his side of the house, which had been a deliberate move on his part. Sleeping near Cash meant in his bed. “Nicky…”
“Please.” Nick nuzzled against his neck. “I took a redeye flight, hoping to get back to Denver this morning. I wanted to nap, swap out G-Man clothes for free man clothes, and drive to see you.”
“Things didn’t go according to plan?”
“Nope. Weather delays, a car accident, and a ridiculously long time at the ER made me more desperate to see you,” Nick said. Cash’s heart froze at hearing about the accident but melted when Nick said he needed him. “Please don’t push me away or put up a wall between us like you sometimes do.”
God, had he been so obvious? The pushing and wall building stemmed from the moments when wanting Nick was too much for Cash to bear.
His wants and needs didn’t matter just then, only Nick’s.
So they turned left. The only noises came from the suitcase’s rolling wheels and Patsy’s clicking toenails on the hardwood floor.
Cash knew his house was large, but the hallway leading to his quarters seemed to stretch on forever. He felt like they were in the home stretch once they reached his office, but Nick let out a weary sigh in front of the library next to it that made Cash pull up short. “Need to rest?”
Nick turned his head and looked into the library. “I want to lie on that velvety-looking sofa. Is that the same one you had in your penthouse in Denver? Lost track of how many times one of us got bent over that thing.”
“Same sofa,” Cash admitted. Only a fool or a glutton for punishment would keep those kinds of reminders around to torture himself. Maybe he was both. “Don’t worry. I’ve had it professionally cleaned since then.”
Nick’s snort turned into a belch. Cash had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. God, he would be so embarrassed if he recalled parts of their conversation.
Cash steered Nick toward the sofa, intending to settle him there before taking a nearby club chair.
He’d be down for the count soon, and Cash could retreat to his room for a bit to process everything that had happened and plan for things yet to transpire.
Yeah, he had every intention of having a wall in place by the time Nick crawled into his bed.
Cash eased him onto the middle sofa cushion, but Nick snagged his wrist before he could step back.
“Don’t leave me,” Nick said. He possessed an eerie ability to read Cash’s mind.
“I was just going to sit over there,” Cash replied, pointing to a chair.
“Too far,” Nick told him. “I hurt, and you can fix me.”
Cash’s heart squeezed at the naked vulnerability in Nick’s voice. “I’m not a doctor or healer.”
Nick patted the cushion next to him. His eyelids were at half-mast, and his face looked more relaxed than Cash had ever seen it. “Please. I want to lay my head in your lap.”
Lust struck like a lightning bolt, but Cash tamped it down. Nick was in no condition to consent to anything. Cash questioned if they should even have a conversation since Nick was obviously under the influence of his medication. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
A wicked smile stretched across Nick’s face. “I’ll behave. Please, Saint.”
Cash was powerless to resist. He sat down on the sofa and stayed still so Nick could position himself on his back. “Do you need to prop something under your shoulder?”
“Nah,” Nick said. “I didn’t break anything.
Some teenager with a newly minted driver’s license ran a red light and plowed into the Uber I was riding in.
My driver wasn’t injured, but his car was mangled to hell.
The force of the collision drove my shoulder into the door and dislocated it.
The doc reset it for me at the ER. They took an X-ray and performed an MRI.
Nothing is broken or torn, just inflamed and sore. I gotta see a physical therapist.”
Cash carded his fingers through Nick’s hair without thinking about anything other than making him feel good. “Sounds painful.”
“I’ve had better times,” Nick said. “But it’s given me the excuse I needed to take some time off to heal other damaged things.”
Cash’s fingers stilled as he considered how to proceed. He was dying to know what Nick meant, but it didn’t feel right. He’d hold his question until the morning, but Nick seemed to be on a roll and didn’t want to stop.
“My head is fucked up.”
“Doubt it,” Cash said.
“No, seriously.” Nick rolled his head from side to side, shifting Cash’s fingers in his hair.
“Keep petting.” That verb had a totally different connotation, but Cash gave in to Nick’s demands instead of arguing with him.
“Damn, you’re pure magic. You did more for me in five seconds than my doctor or therapist have done in the past eight months. ”
“What’s going on, Nicky?” Cash asked. Fuck propriety. He needed to know the truth.
“My cock is broken. Dead as a dinosaur.” Nick opened his eyes and stared at Cash.
“But seeing you partially dressed and smiling gave me a little spark. First I’ve felt in eight months.
” He sighed and closed his eyes. “My doctor did a complete workup from a physical exam to blood and hormone tests. Nothing wrong with my prostate or testosterone levels. Doc determined the problem was psychological. Apparently, depression or stress can cause these types of issues. He referred me to a therapist to sort out the lifestyle changes I needed to make.” Nick’s long eyelashes fluttered and their gazes locked again. “Keep those fingers moving.”
Cash hadn’t been aware he’d stopped. “Sorry.”
“I’ve been seeing a great therapist, and she helped me determine my problems stem from burnout instead of depression.
Apparently, the symptoms are very similar, but antidepressants won’t help me.
I have to figure out what changes I want to make to get my sex life back.
” Nick sighed. “You know how much I love to fuck, Saint. The desire and drive are there, but I can’t reach it.
Feels like this vital part of me is locked in a castle protected by dragons.
I’ve never been so miserable in my life. ”
“I’m so sorry, Nicky. What can I do to help?”
A mischievous smile briefly drove the drowsiness from his gaze. “Slay the dragon. Scale the walls.” A big yawn split his face, and he closed his eyes once more. “Maybe just keep touching me like this.”
And so Cash did long after Nick fell asleep. He couldn’t tear his gaze off the face he loved so much or stop caressing the silky strands of sandy brown hair. Nicky needed him, and Cash wouldn’t let him down.
Nick finally stirred sometime around midnight, and Cash guided him to the bedroom and helped him prepare for bed. He carefully eased Nick’s arm from the sling long enough to remove his shirt. Cash hesitated before reaching for Nick’s jeans once his arm was back in the sling.
“I got it,” Nick said. “The next time you strip off my pants, it will be for entirely different reasons.”
Cash held Nick’s denim-blue gaze and tried not to show how the words affected him. Once Nick stripped down to his underwear, Cash turned down the bedding so he could climb in.
“Christ,” Nick said. “These sheets are even softer than the ones at the penthouse. What’s the thread count?”
“Twelve hundred.”
Nick gave Cash a crooked smile. “Fucking diva.”
“And don’t you forget it.” Cash reached out and carded his fingers through Nick’s hair once more. The man practically purred like one of the ranch cats. “Need anything else before you go to sleep. A glass of water?”
“Maybe leave one on the bedside table in case I wake up in the middle of the night. I probably don’t need to go stumbling around in the dark until I learn the lay of the land.” Just how long had he planned to stay? But that was a question for the morning.
“I’ll get you a glass of water. Rest well, Nicky.”
He snagged Cash’s wrist before he could pull back. Nick brought Cash’s hand to his mouth and kissed his palm. “Thank you, Saint.”
Nick’s eyelids closed, and he was out like a light. Cash brushed the back of his fingers over Nick’s jawline. “Yes, Nicky. You’ve ruined me for other men too.”