Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
Jamie
“Think it’ll take much longer?” Daisy asks from the plastic chair beside the bed they made me lie on.
It’s frankly ridiculous they put me in a private room when all I’m waiting for is the scan results, but it stops anyone taking photos of me. My black jersey was cut away from my shoulder so the doctors could assess it properly, leaving me in my sweaty shorts, now clinging to me uncomfortably, and my jersey hanging half off me. There were sneakers in my bag I could change into thankfully, so I didn’t walk through the hospital in my boots.
“I hope not. I want to sleep.” My eyes close and a heavy sigh escapes me.
Daisy brushes my hand. “Are you still in pain?”
“Nah. It’s just dislocated.” I open my eyes in time to witness her scoff and roll her eyes.
“‘Just dislocated.’ Rugby boys, I swear you’re built different.” She smiles at me fondly.
Her hand rests on the bed beside mine, and I nudge my fingers against her until she holds my hand. “I’m fine. Truly. A little sore, but no more than usual after a game.” I pause and think. “Maybe slightly more than usual, but you’re here to distract me, so it’s okay.”
Daisy plays with my fingers and looks at me from under her lashes. “I’m sorry I ran onto the field. PR will be having a nightmare. We won the game though, so retained the cup. At least the public has something other than us to focus on.”
“Don’t worry about that.” I shrug my shoulders, forgetting I recently dislocated one, and wince. The fact we won doesn’t even sink in. I’m too worried about what Daisy’s thinking. “You know that’s what I want. To be with you. For everyone to know.”
“I know. I’m sorry if I made it more complicated.”
Hope bursts through me, and I turn my hand to link our fingers together and squeeze. Jitters set up camp in my tummy like they do for the first game back after the off-season or an injury. “I’m sorry I signed the form without telling you.” Her head comes up and serious eyes meet mine. “I was trying to be sensible with the urging of Suli, but I should have spoken to you about it first. I shouldn’t have assumed anything.”
She stops me talking by running her other hand across my good arm. “I shouldn’t have taken so long to figure out what I want.”
“But you do…want this?” I ask cautiously. The warm hope in my chest waiting to shatter.
“I do. Of course I do.”
I blow out a long breath and grin at her. “Sign the form whenever you want. I didn’t mean to rush you or?—”
“I signed it yesterday. I was going to tell you after the game, but then you went and dislocated your shoulder.” She mock glares at me, but her face quickly softens. “PR had a plan and were going to have a meeting with us next week about how to break it to the public.” She grimaces. “I kind of ruined that.”
“Who cares? Everything’s been signed and now everyone knows and we can go home together.” I shake her hand excitedly. “We’ll figure out the aftermath later.”
Her eyes crinkle and her cheeks plump with her smile. “I like the sound of that.”
We fall silent and sit with giddy grins until Daisy says, “I’m sorry it took me the week to talk to you about it. I overreacted.” She goes back to fiddling with my fingers, tracing the nail beds, and smoothing over callouses. “I don’t like people making decisions for me without me, but I understand why you did it. It was smart, and I should have realised that sooner. It won’t take me so long next time.”
I tug her hand until she climbs on the bed with me, her hip pressed against mine. “Sweetheart, it won’t happen again. We both learned something about the other, and we spoke the entire time. So we need cooling off after a fight, so what? Next time we’ll be better.”
“Yeah?” she asks quietly.
“Yeah. Now kiss me,” I demand.
She leans forward and our lips meet softly. The gentle kiss of knowing someone else, the comfort of their skin on yours, the warmth that spreads through my chest, and the feeling of home.
Daisy pulls away but doesn’t go far. “I love you.”
My lips quirk and I let her words wash over me, wash away the doubt and stress of the week, and now my injury. None of it matters, not with Daisy beside me, not with Daisy loving me.
“I love you too, Daisy. You’re my best friend, but you’re so much more than that. You’re everything to me,” I choke out.
She drops her forehead to mine. “It’s the same for me. You’re my home, Jamie. You’re it for me.”
I swallow the emotion clogging my throat and kiss her, nipping her bottom lip. “Good. You should move in, so carpooling is easier.”
She purses her lips against the laugh she’s struggling to hold in. “Driving five houses up the street makes it hard?”
“No, but being away from you does.”
“I’ll think about it. The hardwood floors in your villa are to die for.”
“You only love me for my villa, don’t you?”
“Of course not. I love your car as well.” I dig my fingers into her waist until she laughs. “And I love you the most.”
I urge her back to me so I can kiss her and whisper against her lips, “Good. Now get me out of here so you can ravish me.”
“So I can ravish you?”
“I can hardly do the ravishing with a dislocated shoulder.” I smirk at her. “And you’re not allowed to come first and leave me hanging.”
She slaps my hand playfully. “Be good for the doctors, and I’ll think about it. I’m not sure my hips are up for a ride.”
I groan at the image, and she slips off the bed to the plastic chair with a satisfied smile.
We’re sent home an hour later when everyone’s satisfied nothing tore and I’ll be as good as new in six weeks after rehab. Can’t say I expected the game to put me on the injured list, but hopefully I’ll be fine for the last few games of the Northern Tour around the UK and the end of the season. I’m given strict instructions not to move my shoulder and keep the sling on but other than that, we’re home free and parked in front of Daisy’s house to get Westley before we spend the night at mine.
Both our phones have a million messages from Alex, Linda, and Diana from PR, but apparently they’re handling everything. I have two days off before I’m scheduled for interviews about the dislocation and when I’ll be back playing, and my relationship with the assistant physiotherapist. Daisy was given time off too while we wait for everyone to lose interest and PR does damage control. But according to Suli, it’s going well and they’ve managed to spin it so her licence isn’t up for debate.
Westley scrambles into the car and launches himself on my lap, puts his paws on my chest, and wags his tail until he falls over.
“Hey, buddy. How was your day? Eat any socks?” I scratch behind his ear and settle him on my lap for the short drive to my house.
“He better not have. He has strict instructions to only eat toys from now on, don’t you, baby?” Daisy reaches a hand out to pat Westley and encounters my hand. She gives me a condescending pat and parks in my driveway.
She rounds the car to open the door for me, since I have one arm in a sling and the other wrapped around Westley, and helps me out of the car before snagging our bags.
We enter my villa with the hardwood floors she likes so much, and I flick the lights on while Daisy gets Westley settled. She turns to me, crosses her arms, and looks me up and down.
“Like what you see?” I try to pose but don’t manage much with the sling.
“You need a shower, my lovely.”
“Rude,” I respond, despite the feeling racing through me when she calls me lovely. Like someone poured hot chocolate into my veins on a stormy day. Comforting, and I never want it to end.
“You really want to stay in your playing clothes I know for a fact are covered in sweat? Not to mention your jersey is barely clinging to you.” She tilts her head and scans me again. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“I would love a shower.” Nothing beats a steamy shower after a game to wash away the sweat, mud, and sometimes blood. “I’m not sure I can manoeuvre properly, though. Or if I need to wrap this or something.” I gesture to the sling. The doctor probably told me, but either I’ve forgotten or was too distracted by Daisy holding my hand to listen.
“It’s a good thing I’m here then. I’ll help you shower.”
My throat convulses. “You will?” Is that my voice all squeaky?
“Yes,” she says with amusement tinging her voice. “You’ll be more comfortable when you’re clean and you need help doing it. I want to help. Maybe do other things too.” She bites her lip to cover her smile.
“My bedroom’s at the end of the hall.”
She turns and strides down the hall and pauses at the doorway. “You coming?”
My legs remember how to work, and I reach her in three paces and pass her to enter the attached bathroom. I flick the lights to illuminate the warm grey room and open the glass shower door, turning the water on hot.
“How are we doing this?” I ask, frowning at the sling.
Daisy puts her hands on her hips and analyses the shower. She nods and says, “Okay, here’s the plan. I’ll undress you, take the sling off while you make sure not to move your arm, and then I’ll help you shower.”
“If I’m going to be naked, you better be as well.” I eye her black rainproof uniform.
“Obviously.” She unzips her jacket to reveal a tight black tank top, but doesn’t remove anything else. “But you first.”
Daisy comes closer and carefully removes my sling, giving me strict instructions not to move the position of my arm until she tells me to, and then she grasps the rip in my jersey and tugs. Fabric rips and a tiny frown of concentration mars her face, and she huffs when the fabric stops at the hem. She yanks more forcefully and smiles triumphantly when the jersey rips all the way.
My mouth dries. “I shouldn’t have found that sexy.”
She removes the destroyed jersey from me, careful not to jostle my arm. “I’ll rip clothes off you any time.” Her eyes scan me, and her tongue darts out to wet her lips when her eyes track the hair trailing from my belly button and disappearing into my shorts.
Maybe I was hit harder than I remember because all I manage to say is, “Okay.”
She shoots me an amused look and gets to her knees. Daisy slips my socks off, and it’s more intimate than I anticipate. I swallow hard when she carefully sets them to the side and doesn’t even comment on the smell. Fingers tuck into the elastic of my shorts and she guides me out of them. Daisy pauses and glances at me as she pulls my briefs off and waits for my nod before she lifts my foot out of each hole and adds them to the small pile of clothes in the corner. She stands without looking at my limp dick.
“Get in the warmth, but don’t move your arm,” she commands, and I follow without question.
I sigh when the hot water hits my back, and my eyes fall closed. The water washes away the hospital and sweat, soothing aches and pains. When I hear clothes hit the floor, my eyes pop open, and I turn to watch Daisy. She’s down to her black sports bra and underwear.
“Do you always wear all black to games?”
“I do. It’s habit. Not really a lucky charm, but I feel weird if I don’t wear all black.” As she talks, she unravels her plait and piles her hair on top of her head in a bun.
“I didn’t peg you as someone with game day rituals.”
Some of the guys have super specific rituals, but I always just show up and play. Don’t want to rely on anything but myself and the team to win. Eating a specific food or wearing certain underwear never seemed helpful to me, but watching Daisy struggle out of her sports bra, I can see the appeal.
She manages to yank it over her head and her breasts bounce free and the bun on her head goes lopsided. She’s beautiful. Standing there, red-faced from the struggle with her bra, and hair frizzing slightly in the steam. My heart clenches.
Finally, she steps out of her underwear to reveal neatly trimmed hair and ducks into the shower to join me. I turn to the side so the water hits both of us, and she grins. “Ready to try this?”
“Let’s do it.” Anything to feel her hands on me. The comfort of her skin on mine.
It’s the first time I’ve seen her naked, and although I’m intensely attracted to her and want her in my bed immediately, there’s something about standing in the water together, feeling her hands stroke suds over my skin and knowing there’s no rush. She’s here, and she’s not going anywhere. There’s time to be frantic later. I can enjoy the slow movements of her hands now.
She grabs more soap and runs her hands down my thick chest, my rounded belly, and around to my lower back before she crouches at my feet. We shift the shower head so it doesn’t wet her hair, and she washes grass and mud off my tattooed leg. She moves to my other leg before carefully cleaning my feet, so I don’t lose balance with only one arm.
“Do you want me to wash your hair?”
I nod, incapable of speech. Having Daisy take care of me, matter of fact, with quiet questions asking what I want and being careful of my shoulder, I fall more in love with her. I feel her love with her gentle touches and small smiles, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt as content as I do now, standing in the shower with her, a recently dislocated shoulder and put on the sidelines until I recover. None of it matters when she’s here. When we’re both here.
“Are you okay sitting on the floor? I can’t reach without getting shampoo in your eyes and that’s the worst feeling in the world.” She helps me sit on the tiles and squirts shampoo in her hand.
“I don’t think it’s worse than being tackled.”
“It’s a different kind of bad. You never expect to get shampoo in your eye until it happens and you can’t see and you feel like your eyeball is being burned out.” Her fingers dig into my scalp and massage slowly through the strands.
My head falls back against her tummy and a soft groan escapes me. The last of the tension melts from me, and I nuzzle her skin as my eyes fall shut. Water smooths over my scalp, and her hand cups my forehead so shampoo doesn’t get in my eyes.
She repeats the process and taps my good shoulder. “Now for the hard part, my lovely. Up you get, and I’ll explain what we’ll do.”
I stand, and she turns my back to the water so she’s blocked from it. Goosebumps spread across her skin and her pink nipples tighten, but she doesn’t let me shift to allow warm water to hit her body.
“I’ll wash your good side first and then we’ll tackle the other.” She wiggles her brows at me until I roll my eyes at her pun and she continues, “You’re going to straighten your arm until it hangs at your side and bend over. Then I’ll do a super quick clean and back into sling position you’ll go. Ready?”
“Go for it.”
She grabs more soap and rubs from my wrist to my arm, lifts it, and rubs soap briskly under my arm, which is slightly humiliating but weirdly makes me want to kiss her. The bright lights highlight her freckles, and the damp hair around her face is frizzing more and I want to curl it around my finger and smooth it down.
“Okay, let’s try this.”
We slowly move my arm into the position she wants it with minimal pain and she washes my injured side quickly. Then I’m back in sling position and there’s only one place she hasn’t cleaned. Just thinking about it turns the comforting atmosphere hot with tension and heat spreads through me as I take in her slick, naked body.
“I don’t have to. You could try with your good arm,” she suggests and finally slides her eyes down my body to take me in.
“No, you can do it.” I wait until she looks at me again. “And then we could do the fun stuff you mentioned.”
“You feeling up to that?” She bites her lip and glances at my shoulder.
“I’m fine. Won’t be able to move much, though,” I say regretfully, but the thought of her moving above me, sinking down on me while I watch, is enough for my dick to stir with interest.
The flush on her cheeks darkens, and she slicks her hands with soap. Hands grasp me, and my muscles tighten. One hand rubs up to my head and down to the base of me, soap left in her wake, clinging to hair and skin. I thicken and can’t tear my eyes from her hands holding me, weighing me, exploring me as soap drips to the tiles. Daisy grabs more soap and rolls my balls in her hand, and I can’t control my groan. I’m fully erect now and thrust into her hand lightly, unable to stop myself from moving and feeling more of her around me.
She twists her hand at my tip and I jerk, good hand flying to her shoulder to hold on. “Oh, shit.”
My eyes land on her face with her dilated whiskey eyes as she pants into the steamy bathroom. The image she makes, all wet and soft from the shower while she jerks me off, twists my insides pleasantly, and I tense as heat rushes to my groin. I must make some sort of noise because her hand falls from me and she steps away.
“Let me get clean,” she starts breathlessly, “and then we’ll put the sling back on so you don’t accidentally hurt it while I make you come.”
“Daisy,” I groan and drop my head to her shoulder.
She turns me so the water hits her, grabs the soap and washes herself quickly, not lingering anywhere, but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy it. Her ass looks as good as it does in those tight leggings she wears. Even better, I decide with soap trickling down it.
Daisy rinses herself as I stand behind her, attempting not to touch my erection and enjoy the show. She turns the water off, steps out of the shower, and grabs a towel from the shelf. We stand on the bath mat and Daisy hastily dries herself, and I watch a missed droplet of water glide down her chest to rest on her nipple. She crouches and slides the towel up my legs and pats my body dry. She gently squeezes water out of my curls and drops the towel on the floor haphazardly; the complete opposite of how she treated my clothes. I don’t think I’m the only one affected by the shower.
“Let’s get your sling on.” She wraps the sling around me quickly and walks through the door to the bedroom.
I follow behind her, mesmerised by the sway of her hips, and barely blink when she tells me to get on the bed with my back against the headboard.
The wood is cool on my shower-heated skin, and I stretch my legs out in front of me. Daisy climbs over me and straddles my lap, and we both gasp at the sensation of our bare skin touching. She’s warm and damp and slick between her legs despite the shower.
She settles against my dick and shifts closer to me to claim my lips in a heady kiss. Our tongues tangle, and she’s careful not to touch my arm. One hand threads through my wet hair carefully and the other strokes over scars from rugby and scrapes I got into as a kid and lands low on my stomach, brushing through the hair leading to my groin.
My good hand smoothes the tiny curls that appeared on her hairline, and I kiss down her throat, swirling my tongue on her pulse point and sucking hard where her shoulder meets her neck. She pulls back and my hand drifts to her nipple, tweaking it lightly before giving the other some attention. Daisy sways in my lap, grinding down, but forcibly stops herself before I can match her movement.
“Where are the condoms?”
“Top drawer.”
She leans over and digs around in my bedside table drawer. I stroke her back and clutch her ass, massaging it and moving between her cheeks. She falters while digging through the drawer. Daisy reappears with red splashed on her face and rips open the foil packet.
Shifting back on my lap, she rolls the condom down my length, and I hold my breath at the feeling of her hands on me. She rises to her knees and sinks down on me without warning, and my mouth drops open. My head falls back and hits the headboard, but I recognise the pain dully, too focused on Daisy rolling her hips forward and back. Her slick heat encompasses me, and she tightens around me every time she slides forward. She keeps away from my chest and the sling strapped across it. She grinds against me, and I put my feet flat on the bed so I can thrust into her, slightly unbalanced without the use of my arm, but I make it work.
“For someone who said their hips weren’t up to it, you’re doing extremely well,” I say through broken breaths.
She clenches her cunt around me with a grin. “I had some good inspiration.”
I grunt when she picks up her pace and heat coils in me, ready to burst. “Really. What was it?”
“There’s this fucking handsome rugby player that let me shower with him. Really sexy with his shoulders and wavy hair.”
My fingers dig into her hip. “Yeah? He treat you good?”
“The best. I love him.” She shudders and leans forward for a messy kiss. “How close are you?”
“Very.” She clenches around me hard, and I drop my forehead to hers. “Fuck, I love you.”
“Come. Now,” she demands in a throaty voice, and when she slips a hand between us to rub circles around her clit, I let go.
My head hits the headboard again, and my fingers dig into her hips, hopefully not enough to bruise, and when my vision clears, I nudge her hand away from her clit and replace it with mine. I rub in slow circles, mimicking her, and watch her go rigid against me. Her eyes close, and a high-pitched moan escapes her.
My hand falls away from her and her eyes open, already looking sleepy. I press soft kisses across her face, my stubble scraping over her soft skin, and end at her lips. Daisy slips off me and takes care of the unsexy before returning to bed and pulling back the covers for us to get under.
“I’m surprised you’re still awake,” I tease.
“I thought falling asleep and leaving you to fend for yourself with the use of one arm wouldn’t be the nicest thing.” Her head rests beside mine on the pillow. “No promises when we get you fixed up, though,” she says, finishing with a yawn. “Then you’re on your own. Sorry, lovely.”
“As soon as I’m cleared, I’ll do all the work until you’re so satisfied you can’t even move.”
“That won’t be hard. I just did that,” she says with a laugh and kisses my nose.
“Don’t tear down my dreams, darling.”
“Sorry, sorry. I look forward to it.” Her eyes close, and I scan her face slowly, taking in the strands of hair escaping her almost completely unraveled bun, the freckles decorating her nose, and her breathing already deepening as sleep takes her.
I couldn’t be more in love with her if I tried. And now I don’t have to worry about anything else. I can enjoy being with her, feel her warm body against mine, and wake up beside her.
Westley trots into the room and launches himself on the bed and noses around the sheets until he curls up at the foot of the bed.
Nothing else matters but them. I can get through the injury, through retiring, through anything, with Daisy and her puppy by my side.
My own little family.
I kiss Daisy’s nose and close my eyes.