CHAPTER EIGHT #2
Jessie bit back a smile, knowing even the tiniest giggle would land her in trouble.
It wasn’t that the scene was hilarious, but it was certainly novel.
This was hardly their first shower together—but none of them started with him tangled in his clothes.
Hell, if anything they usually couldn’t get their clothes off fast enough.
“Hold still,” she ordered, carefully peeling the shirt off his frame. She did her best not to touch any of his sore spots, but since half of his body was a walking bruise, that was impossible.
Malcolm hissed through his teeth, kneeling over to catch his breath. “Sweet Georgia Brown, JJ,” he gasped. “These are your kid gloves?”
Jessie poked his side, the only square inch she could find that wasn’t covered in bandages or welts. “Do you want me to call back Estelle? Because I know she’d be back here in a heartbeat with a rubber ducky and bubble bath.”
Malcolm snorted, deflating slightly. “No, ma’am,” he said on a sigh, easing down to the side of the bathtub.
Jessie ripped off a piece of tape and held a sheet of plastic against the biggest cluster of bandages. “Hold still now,” she whispered, carefully covering the spot before moving onto the next.
For a moment, the bathroom was filled with the sounds of ripping tape and muttered curses when Jessie wasn’t tender enough. When he was covered in more plastic sheeting than a Slip ’N Slide, Jessie clapped her hands together and beamed. “I think you’re ready for a shower.”
Malcolm held out his hand for her to assist him to his feet. “Make the water hot enough to melt this tape off my body,” he begged.
“Aye aye, Lieutenant.” Jessie saluted before turning on the water.
Behind her, the rustling of fabric alerted her that Malcolm was now in his birthday suit. She thought very unsexy thoughts as she turned to face him. Keeping her gaze locked over his shoulder, she gestured into the shower. “Ready.” Her voice was as squeaky as a Smurf’s.
Malcolm rolled his eyes, although he had cupped himself for the illusion of modesty. “JJ, I swear. This is probably the least sexy thing we’ve ever done. The least you can do is look at me.”
“Nope, don’t need to,” she said, eyes squeezed shut as she pawed her way to the side of the bathroom. She kept one arm out so he could steady himself as he stepped under the jet.
He let go of her grip, sliding the curtain shut and leaving Jessie a moment to collect herself. Malcolm was naked, mere inches away, and she couldn’t—and wouldn’t—do anything about it.
“I can hear you thinking.” He laughed from the shower. “Can you hand me a washcloth?”
“No,” she blurted before recovering. “I mean, sure.” She fumbled through his linen closet, retrieving a washcloth and clean set of towels. She neatly stacked the towels on the counter before pinching her eyes shut and thrusting the washcloth behind the curtain.
“Oof,” Malcolm exhaled as she punched his chest. “Thanks, I think,” he said, clearing his throat. “I appreciate you testing my balance, but maybe next time just hand it to me? The hit in the solar plexus wasn’t required.”
“Oh hell.” She drew back the corner of the curtain and winced. Malcolm leaned against the wall of the shower, rubbing at the spot where she’d punched him. “I’m really sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
Malcolm snorted. “That actually makes me feel better.”
“Ha ha.” Jessie kept her gaze locked on his profile, temporarily mesmerized by the water running down his handsome face. He smiled, a real smile that popped his dimple and gave her butterflies. In that heartbeat, they were teenagers again.
“Room for one more if you’re interested,” he said with a wink, the glint in his eyes unmistakable. Yeah, definitely teenagers ...
At first, Jessie couldn’t speak. Her tongue was glued to the roof of her mouth as if she’d devoured a peanut butter sandwich without milk. “Malcolm,” she warned, voice low.
“JJ,” he replied. His baritone sounded as rough as gravel. It could have been the smoke inhalation, or simply years of history and lust simmering between them. The shower wasn’t the only thing steaming up the room.
“We can’t, you’re injured.” It was a lame excuse, even to her own ears.
Malcolm cocked his head. “Not all of me.”
Jessie couldn’t say she wasn’t tempted. Their chemistry always ran hotter than a five-alarm fire.
Attraction had never been their problem.
Their problem was all about timing, ambitions, and, on Jessie’s part, a little fear.
She could pull back that shower curtain and share a steamy moment with her ex. It would be easy, perfect even.
Yet when the bubbles rinsed away and she had to leave, the heartbreak cycle would continue. Right now that wasn’t what Jessie wanted, and she knew it wasn’t what Malcolm needed.
Yanking the shower curtain closed, Jessie braced herself on the edge of the sink. “Let me know when you’re ready to come out,” she said, shoulders sagging.
A moment later the shower turned off and Malcolm stuck his hand out for a towel. She handed it to him, careful not to touch him. Even if only one skin cell grazed him, Jessie would melt into a puddle of want.
“I’m decent,” Malcolm said as he pulled back the curtain. “But I need a hand stepping over.” Jessie put herself in nurse mode as she helped him out of the shower.
“I’ll dry your back,” she offered, picking up an extra towel and carefully patting the skin around the tape dry.
As she toweled him down, they faced the bathroom mirror, fogged up with steam. Jessie took her time making sure he was dry before carefully peeling away the tape and checking his bandages. By the time she was done, the mirror had cleared and she could see their reflections staring back at her.
Malcolm, damn him, looked incredible. He’d always been tall and lean, but years on the force had carved him into a walking marble statue.
His dark skin glistened, and Jessie stood awe-struck as a single bead of water trailed from his collarbone down to his stomach.
Did he have eight abs now? What the hell was going on? !
“I should ...” Jessie dropped the towel, unable to breathe.
Malcolm spun around, bringing his good arm up to rest on her shoulder. “You should what?” he asked, angling his head so he could meet her blue gaze.
“I don’t know,” she said, a chuckle escaping on an exhale.
Bringing his hand up, he cupped her cheek. He swiped his thumb over her bottom lip, and Jessie shuddered. This was hardly their first time getting too close for caretaker comfort, but Jessie couldn’t step away. Malcolm felt like a magnet, pulling her closer like a force of nature.
“JJ.” He exhaled her nickname, his breath dancing across her lips. “Please.”
That one word had maximum effect, chipping away any shred of resolve she had left.
Jessie closed the distance between them, their lips crashing together.
In a heartbeat, time stood still. Gone was the past, their worries of the future, all the words they should have said; they were just Jessie and Malcolm.
Malcolm angled her closer so he could deepen the kiss, and she felt him through his towel.
All it would take was one little tug and he’d be standing there naked in front of her.
God, she wanted that, more than her next breath.
Yet common sense won out as soon as she leaned closer and pressed on one of his bandages.
“Oh!” he exclaimed, wincing in pain.
The mood shifted, desire evaporating. “Oh my God, what hurts?”
Malcolm gritted his teeth, flexing his hand over his side. “Nothing, I’m fine.”
Jessie shook her head, angry with herself for prioritizing her libido over his injuries. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have—”
“Don’t!” Malcolm’s tone was sharp. “Don’t you dare apologize for that. I would gladly kiss you until my limbs fell off, JJ.”
“Graphic,” she said, wincing at the visual.
Malcolm chuckled. “I thought it was sort of morbidly romantic.”
Jessie tossed her head back. “Agree to disagree.” She held out her hand and motioned toward the door. “Now, why don’t we get you ready for bed?”
And with that, they shuffled off to the bedroom. Jessie got him a glass of water while Malcolm attempted to get redressed. When she came back and found him with his underwear on and a sock stuck on his toes, she bit back a smile.
“Little help again,” he muttered, although this time there was no snark in his tone. He simply looked exhausted.
“Hold on,” she replied, placing his water by the bed. In a deft motion, she had his socks on and helped him lie back on a stack of pillows. “Let me grab a pair of sleep shorts from your closet.”
“No!” Malcolm shouted, so loudly, Jessie tripped over her own feet. She whirled around, eyebrow arched in question. “I mean, the closet is a mess. I’ll sleep in my boxers.”
Jessie eyed the closet curiously, but did as she was told. “Okay, but no funny business, mister.” She plopped down on the edge of the bed, sweeping a hand over his face. “How’s the pain level?”
Malcolm flinched as he rested back on the pillows, but quickly enough found a comfortable position. “Not bad,” he replied, wiggling back. “You’re sleeping in here,” he ordered, but Jessie wasn’t about to disagree. Wild horses couldn’t pull her from Malcolm’s side.
“I will, but I meant what I said about funny business.”
He closed his eyes and patted the mattress beside him. “I don’t remember anything funny about the last ten minutes.”
“No argument here,” she teased, turning off the bedside lamp. “I’ll be right back.” She hurried down the hallway with her own pajamas, eager to get cleaned up before bed.
By the time she returned, Malcolm was already asleep. Carefully, she pulled back the covers and slid next to him. Resting her hand over his pecs, she finally relaxed when she felt the steady rhythm of his heart.
The kiss was a mistake, she knew that. And sharing a bed during his recovery was only muddying the waters of their relationship. Jessie didn’t care. All she cared about was that Malcolm was safe, he was alive, and he was by her side. They could figure out the rest of it in the light of day.