Chapter 21 Shade
SHADE
Ihave a burning need to shit, but my body is fiercely resisting moving because I just got fucking comfortable for the first time in hours. There are many things I can do from this bed, like slowly lose my mind, but shitting isn’t one of them
Kai is out handling some club business, which leaves me alone with the stink of sweat, leather, dried blood, and whatever the hell else spilled on me after the crash. Even the antiseptic tang of the stuff Greer used has long since evaporated.
Also, I’m tired of smelling like this.
I’ve tried my best to distract myself, working on a plan to advance all our skills, making a matrix of what skills we already have, and who has them. But it hasn’t helped.
My ribs still ache with every breath I take.
My elbow throbs from earlier, when I nailed it on the bedside table.
My head pounds, likely because I’m dehydrated.
Although, lord knows Isla has been a pain in my ass, making sure I drink a glass every time she comes over, and leaving me a nicely filled glass with ice and more water in it next to the bed.
But what I want is whiskey, so I can drink through the misery.
The need for the bathroom wins out. Gingerly, I haul myself upright, one hand braced on the wall. Pain cracks through me, like someone is snapping my rib cage in half, but I’ve got no choice but to grit my teeth and move.
Molasses could move through the house faster than I could, as I work my way along the wall.
The bathroom tiles are cool beneath my feet as I step inside.
Lowering myself down to the toilet is reminiscent of one of those days you overwork your legs at the gym and have to cling to the sink as you sit.
When I’ve done my business, I manage to stand again, but the bathtub looks so inviting. Somewhere I can just lie and let the hot water do its thing. Getting in will be an ordeal, but maybe it will help bring me…ease. Especially if I add some of the Epsom salts Kai keeps on the side of the tub.
The head spin I get as a result of putting the plug into the hole is almost enough to scare me off.
But once the hot water is pouring and steam is curling, I can’t wait to get in.
I place a towel on the sink, so I don’t have to bend to reach it when I’m done.
I put another on the back of the tub, so my head has something to rest against.
The pain is so bad, I almost cry pulling my clothes off. But I manage to sit on the side of the tub, and with the assistance of what little core strength I can use and the sink vanity for stability, I manage to lower myself into the tub without getting my arm wet.
“Fuck,” I groan as the right side of my body slips into the heat. Relief loosens something in my chest.
Christ. It’s heaven. Pure goddamn heaven.
Never thought I’d be so glad to slip into a bathtub. It’s quite possible I’ll need Kai to help me out again, which makes me think I should have brought my cellphone in and put it on a stool within reach.
I close my eyes, allow my head to fall back, and let the bath soak the tension from my muscles. The sound of the water still gushing into the tub reverberates around the bathroom. Makes me think we should put one of those whirlpool tubs in here. One big enough for the two of us.
Or three of us?
The thought makes me smile. I like the idea of Isla stuck between the two of us. Or Kai stuck between Isla and me.
In the comfort of the hot water, my cock stirs.
I wonder what it would feel like, fucking Kai as he fucks Isla. Setting the pace for the two of them. Or Isla on her knees sucking my cock as Kai takes her from behind, both their eyes on me.
I reach with my foot to turn the tap off as water sloshes around the tub, but as I do so, I slip a little, reach out with my sprained hand, and nail it on the side of the tub.
“Motherfucker!” The word cracks out of me, loud enough to echo off the tiles.
I drop my head back, pressing it hard against the towel on the edge of the tub, breathing through the sharp bolt of pain. Came off my bike and spun around, and I still managed to hurt myself worse in the fucking bathtub.
When I see my erect cock protruding through the surface, I wince at the moron I seem to have become.
Then—
“Garrett?”
Isla’s voice freezes my blood. The door swings open faster than I can process, and there she is. Wearing leggings that hug her figure and a lemon sweater that hangs oversized on her. In her hand are some Tupperware containers of food, and her chest is rising and falling like she’s out of breath.
She stops dead when she sees me naked in the tub, and just like I couldn’t stop the wreck I had, I can’t stop her gaze dropping lower.
Her cheeks flush a gorgeous shade of pink.
Because I’m still hard, with no sign of it relenting the longer she looks at my cock.
I cover it with my hand, nudging it beneath the water, wishing she’d not seen my cock floating about like the tip of the fucking iceberg that took down the Titanic.
The last thing I want to do is make her uncomfortable.
“I thought you were hurt,” she blurts, her eyes finally meeting mine. “I heard you curse. I—sorry, I should have knocked. I should have—”
“Isla, stop. It’s okay. I’m not hurt. Just can’t be trusted in a damn bathtub.”
She lets out a shaky chuckle. “You scared me.”
I look at the containers in her hands. “Go put those in the hallway, then come straight back.”
She hesitates, then does as I say. When she reappears, there’s a shift in her mood. Less frazzled, and more curious. I can feel it all the way over here, so I motion with my good hand for her to come kneel by the side of the bathtub. “Grab that towel so your knees don’t hurt.”
She hesitates, then steps over to the sink, puts her phone on the vanity, and grabs the towel.
When she kneels beside the tub, I touch her cheek with my knuckle. She’s close enough that my cock twitches in the water again.
“I needed to get the dirt of the accident off me,” I say. “Ended up thinking about getting a tub big enough for the three of us.”
“Garrett,” she whispers.
I swallow hard. “You keep saying my name like that, sweetheart, and I’m not gonna be responsible for what happens next.”
Her throat bobs. “I could outrun you.”
I nod my head. “Yeah. You could. But do you want to?”
“I don’t—I…”
“Don’t overthink it. A yes or no will do. Would you want to run?”
A long silent minute stretches between us. I’m in no rush for the answer. The steam from the bath curls the ends of her hair.
“No,” she says finally. “I wouldn’t run.”
Looking at those soft, pouty lips of hers, I know my cock isn’t gonna cool it unless I drain the pipes. “And what if I touch myself? You being here, looking at me like you do, it would help. But I won’t do a damn thing without your permission.”
Her eyes drift down to my cock and then back to my eyes. “This doesn’t feel like us going slow.”
“You’re the one who crashed my bath, the one who’s still here. You don’t want to be here, I’ll never force you, sweetheart. But it feels more like I can breathe with you here.”
“Then, don’t stop.”
The words go straight to my cock, and I wrap my hand around myself under the water, slow and careful. My ribs stab when I move, but the pleasure burns hotter than the pain. Isla’s gaze follows the movement of my forearm beneath the surface, her pupils wide.
Her eyes return to mine. “Garrett.” Her voice is thick.
“Feels better with you here,” I admit.
Her cheeks go even pinker. “Does it help…when someone kisses you?”
Jesus Christ. My cock pulses in my hand. “Yeah.” The word comes out raspier than I expected. “Helps a fucking lot.”
She leans forward before I can say more, and her lips touch mine, soft and uncertain.
And I’m sure the world tilts.
The kiss deepens, her hand bracing on the side of the tub. I slide my bandaged hand up her jaw, my thumb brushing her cheek. Her mouth opens on a soft sigh that almost undoes me.
“Fuck, Isla. You’re unreal.” While the stroking of my cock speeds up, the kiss remains slow.
Pleasure is rising fast, sharper than the ache in my ribs.
I ease the grip on my cock, because something tells me she’ll stop kissing me the moment I come. But the feeling that I’m gonna come soon doesn’t fade.
She sighs against my mouth; I inhale her breath. Our lips brush, the barest whisper of contact, and the world stills. Her softness strengthens my hunger. She makes a startled sound when my tongue touches hers. I change the angle just a little, ribs screaming but pleasure burning.
The kiss deepens, but no parts of us touch beyond our mouths and the brush of my fingertips on her cheek.
When she pulls back for half a second, like she’s still checking if this is real, I follow her. Because I need the taste of her like I need air.
All my intimate relations have been with men. I’ve never kissed a woman, let alone brought myself to orgasm with one. I like the newness and novelty of it and that Isla is the first, and possibly only, woman I’ll get to experience this with.
I break the kiss with a gasp. “I’m close.”
“It’s okay,” she whispers. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Those words undo me, and with barely a sound, I come hard in the water, the pleasure of it ripping through me. My breath shudders as the release drains all the tension from my body.
But instead of pulling away, Isla leans in, pressing her forehead to mine. Keeping me steady until the tremors fade.
I close my eyes. “You’re gonna destroy me.”
“I barely did a thing.”
“You kissed me. That was everything.”
Her blush deepens. “Can I wash your hair for you? Help you get cleaned up?”
“I’d like that,” I say, mellow in my post-come state.
Isla helps me run fresh water to get rid of the cum, then washes and rinses my hair, and even gets a cloth to wash the places I can’t get to with a damaged wrist. She leaves my cock and balls well alone, but I take the cloth from her when she’s done to clean the places she doesn’t.
When we’re finished, she helps me stand before rinsing me off with the hand-held shower head. I’m not ashamed of my body. I’m strong. Not as ripped as some of the other guys, but solid.
“I need a clean towel,” I say, looking down at the towel on the floor that she knelt on.
“Let me,” Isla says, grabbing one off the shelf.
She helps me out of the tub, taking my weight, careful not to jostle me too badly.
Her hands glide over my shoulders, my chest, my hips as she dries me.
I struggle to let even Kai be this tender with me, but being forced to accept help is showing me that it isn’t always the sign of weakness I’ve mistaken it to be.
Once I’m dried and wrapped in an odd combination of clean sweats, a button-down shirt that is easier to get on than a hoodie, and clean socks, she guides me back to bed. Before she steps away, I catch her hand. “You wanted to be there, right?”
The edges of her lips turn up in a soft smile. “Would be easy to pretend I didn’t. But I did. I’m still confused, though. I think I need to sleep on what happened today. But yes, I enjoyed kissing you, Garrett.”
My heart does this strange and pitiful twist.
I want to cherish her, this sweet thing who was brave enough to overcome whatever she’s been working through to grace me with her lips. “I liked kissing you too.”
She hurries to the door and brings me a container. “I forgot, the food is hot. I brought forks and a serving for Kai too. I’ll put his in the kitchen, and then, I’ll get the dishes back tomorrow after I finish work.”
“You should let Kai give you an escort to work tomorrow.”
She shakes her head. “It’s way too premature for you to be this overbearing.” She kisses my forehead, and I’m pissed that I didn’t move quickly enough to catch her lips.
“Are you at least feeling safe over there, with your uncle and all?”
“No more or less safe than I’ve ever felt around him. I’m being careful. Good night, Garrett.”
I hate that she’s led the same kind of life I have. One filled with hypervigilance. “Good night, Isla.”
I crack open the container filled with a thick, rich chili and a mountain of rice. The scent of spices and tomatoes and beef fills the air, and my mouth salivates for the first time since the accident.
The bath made me feel better.
Jerking one out made me feel better.
But my good mood, that’s all down to the kiss.
From the bed, I can see out of the window, and I watch Isla walk all the way across the street as I take my first spoonful of food.
It’s a delicious as it smells and is easy to swallow.
But just as she steps inside her house, I see a shadow come out of the tree line.
It’s too dark to make out who it is or where they fucking came from.
I grab my phone and scroll for Isla’s number as I force myself to stand. The sound of a ringing phone in the bathroom makes me jump, but then, I remember she took her phone out of her pocket and placed it on the vanity and must not have remembered to pick it up.
I brace myself against the wall, then grab the Glock I placed in the bedside table.
Every step is agony, but I keep going, making my way down the stairs, because she’s inside her home, alone. And someone is outside, watching.
I call Kai, getting his voicemail. “I need you home. Someone’s watching Isla’s house, and I’m going over there.”
I type the same message to him.
I hit the bottom step wrong and nearly black out. But I stagger upright, shove my bare feet into my boots, and step out into the night.