Chapter 10 #2
“Sorry,” she mumbled, her fingertips still tingling from touching him. That thigh had been hard, hot, and she wondered what it would feel like to have him pressed against her. In bed.
Naked.
“It’s all right.” He rolled over on his side, facing her, a sleepy smile curving his lips.
Those very same lips had kissed her senseless not too long ago. The memory of that moment lingered, filled her thoughts more often than not.
“Thanks, Jane.” He closed his eyes, drifting off already, and she leaned over, snapping off the lamp with a quiet click. “For taking care of me.”
“You’re welcome,” she said softly, a pang in her heart.
She had a feeling if she let him, he’d take even better care of her.
Chris woke up a sweaty, disoriented mess. He blinked his eyes open with a start and stared into the unfamiliar darkness. It took him a minute to realize where he was and what had happened.
Tired, even a little feverish, the leftover vestiges of his flu bug. Jane driving him to her house, ushering him inside, and into her guest bed. She’d taken good care of him, checked on him twice before she’d gone to bed and then once more, in the middle of the night.
The last time she came, he’d feigned sleep, absorbing the tender care she’d shown him.
The way she’d tucked the blankets around his shoulders, her cool hands touching his flesh.
She’d tested his forehead, her fingers surging upward to thread through his hair, and then she’d run a single finger down his cheek.
She’d touched him as if she wanted to touch him some more. Nothing impersonal about it. If he’d felt well enough, he would’ve returned the favor. Hauled her into his arms and held her close, kissed those sweet lush lips and thanked her for everything she did for him.
Yeah, he’d been too out of it to do anything but enjoy it. Savor it.
Slowly he sat up, pushing the hair off his forehead. No more aches, no more weariness. He felt like a new man.
Chris carefully climbed out of bed and switched on the lamp, blinking hard a couple of times to bring everything into focus.
He tipped back the blinds and peeked out the window, noticing it was still dark.
Shuffling into the bathroom, he turned on the shower.
A towel hung on the rack on the wall and he sniffed it, deemed it clean.
He needed a shower just to feel like himself again.
And then he was going right back to bed.
A quick and cool five-minute rinse-off was all it took. He dried himself hurriedly, found a giant bottle of mouthwash under the sink, and gargled with it to get the bad taste out of his mouth. He collapsed back into bed just as fast as he’d climbed out of it.
Then he heard the gentle knock on the door.
His voice froze in his throat. He couldn’t find it to answer and the door swung open within seconds.
The outline of her slender body shone in the entryway.
She slowly walked into the room and he realized she had no idea she was dealing with a semi-coherent naked man.
“Chris?” Her soft voice twisted his insides, making certain parts of his body stand at attention, and he prayed for some sort of control. “Are you awake?”
“Yeah,” he croaked, then cleared his throat. He sounded terrible. “I feel better.”
“Oh, good. Are you sure, though? That was really fast.” She rushed toward him, her cool, slim hand touching his forehead, the tips of her fingers like a caress against his skin.
He could barely make out what she wore, but it looked like some flannel pajama pants and T-shirt set. He wondered if she was wearing a bra beneath that shirt. His wayward thoughts were going to kill him if he didn’t watch it.
“You took a shower, didn’t you?” she asked, and he nodded. “I thought I heard you.”
“Yeah.” She kept touching him, fluttering her hand across his bare shoulder, and the urge to pick up that little hand and bring it to his mouth was overwhelming. “I feel a lot better.”
“You should go back to sleep and get more rest. I’ll leave you alone.”
“What time is it?” He didn’t want her to leave, not yet. He grabbed her by the wrist, then slipped his hand into hers.
She didn’t leave. And she didn’t try to jerk her hand from his, either. “It’s a little past two thirty.”
“And you’re up?” He laced his fingers with hers, noticing how slim they were, long and elegant and so full of grace. Gentle and soothing, they knew just how to touch to make a person feel good.
They made him feel good.
“I heard the water running and figured it must’ve been you,” she said.
He jerked on her hand, urging her closer. “Sit down.”
“W-where?” Her whisper was small. She almost sounded scared, but he ignored it.
He wanted her closer. And he would have her closer too, damn it. Despite her protests, despite how both of them continued to claim they wanted nothing beyond friendship, the chemistry between them had grown too large to ignore.
He was tired of fighting it.
“Right here, on the edge of the bed.” He scooted over, giving her room, and she sat, her body warmth seeping into him, the curve of her bottom so close, so tempting.
“Christian. You need to go back to sleep,” she urged.
“In a minute. Let me thank you first.” How did he want to thank her? Well, he could think of a few ways. But would she let him?
There was only one way to find out.
“You’re welcome.” She nudged at his shoulder again with her free hand and curled her fingers around him. Damn, if he didn’t become aroused at her simple touch. “Now go back to sleep.”
“Join me,” he murmured, and he swore he heard her gasp.
“What did you say?”
“You heard me.” He paused, squeezing her hand before he brought it to his mouth and pressed a soft kiss to the back of it. “Join me.”