Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Kane
Droplets of water trail down my body as I carefully dry myself off. Everything is healing, but I have no intention of vigorously rubbing a towel over certain parts of my skin until things are completely healed.
Discarding my towel on the vanity, I start the process of unwrapping the garbage bag from my cast.
Showering with it is a pain in the ass. I’m counting down the days until I get this damn thing off just so I can shower like a normal person again.
I nearly fall on my face, not once but twice. Eventually, I’m able to tug on a pair of boxers and sweatpants. I know Abby or one of the guys would help me, but I want to do this on my own.
Having her here this week has been a blessing and a curse. I usually hate having people dote on me, but having it come from her has made it more tolerable.
She hasn’t smothered me, but she has been there whenever I needed her… or just wanted her next to me.
Having her this close is slowly starting to drive me mad, though. She’s right here, but I can’t let myself have her. It’s the sweetest torture.
I grab the bottle of healing ointment from the counter. I don’t need to wear the bandages anymore, but I’m supposed to keep applying the ointment for another week or so.
Despite my best efforts, there’s no way I can reach some of them.
With the tube in hand, I peek my head from my bedroom and into the hallway. I hear distant voices coming from downstairs.
I open my mouth, ready to ask Linc or Wyatt to come help me, but Abby’s name comes out instead.
Who am I kidding? I would rather have her hands touching me than either of the men I consider my brothers.
“Yeah?” she yells back from what sounds like the bottom of the stairs.
“Can you come help me?”
“Coming,” she says.
“Yeah, you are,” Wyatt yells after her.
“Fuck off,” she yells back when she reaches the top floor. She’s smiling when she turns to face me.
Her steps falter ever so slightly as she takes in my bare chest. She swallows, stepping right in front of me.
“What can I do to help?” She’s trying to keep her face blank, but it isn’t really working.
There are a lot of things I want to tell her I need help with, but none of them would be very appropriate. I settle for handing her the ointment and keeping my mouth shut.
“Have a seat on the bed, sir. I’ll get you all fixed up,” she says with mock professionalism.
I fight the urge to roll my eyes, but I do as she says, sitting on the edge of my bed. She crawls onto the bed behind me.
Her touch is gentle as she applies the gel to my side and shoulder. With a little shimmy that’s honestly adorable, she moves off the bed and stands in front of me.
Her eyes are focused on the marks along my chest and abs, but I am solely focused on her. I can’t get my eyes to move anywhere else. I don’t even try.
“Done,” she says, screwing the cap back into place and setting the ointment on my nightstand.
I grab the fabric of my hoodie she’s wearing and pull her between my legs. I love that she’s been wearing it for the last two days.
It’s a dangerous thought, but I could really get used to seeing her in my clothes.
“Thank you,” I say quietly.
“You’re welcome.” She trails a finger down my chest and abs, just to the side of the scrapes she just took care of. “They’re healing quickly.”
“Yeah,” I say, unable to think about anything other than the single point of contact her finger is making with my skin.
If she keeps going any further south, she’s going to encounter an entirely different problem… one that’s twitching to attention between us.
My hand slides around to the small of her back, pulling her even closer to me. My damn cast is the only thing keeping her chest from pressing against mine.
She rests her forehead against mine, and her hand glides up over my chest to the nape of my neck. Her fingers slide in and out of my hair.
We stay there, locked in the silent moment. The need to press my lips to hers is almost painful. I want her so much. My body feels like it’s vibrating.
She breaks first, pressing her lips to my cheek. She lingers there, her perfect lips grazing over my skin.
Fuck. I can’t take it anymore.
My hand moves up to cup the back of her neck, and I pull her mouth to mine. My lips collide with hers, and it feels like everything within me settles while simultaneously coming to life.
She moans against my lips, and my dick starts to harden in my sweats.
I’m vaguely aware of other noises in the house, but I can’t focus on anything other than the woman in my arms, or just arm, I guess. Damn cast.
Oliver isn’t here tonight, so I really don’t care what’s happening outside of this room right now.
“Well, fuck.” The words come from outside of our little bubble.
Abby pulls her lips from mine, turning to look at the doorway where Linc is standing. She doesn’t move away from where she’s trapped between my legs. I’ll take that as a good sign.
“You owe me ten bucks,” Wyatt says, holding his hand out toward Linc when he steps into the room beside his brother.