Chapter 15 Lane
FIFTEEN
LANE
“You overdid it today.” It’s not a question; it’s a damn statement.
Telling Birdie to sit her ass down and relax in front of her friend wasn’t going to happen.
I gave her a look, she’d slow down, and when I wasn’t looking, she’d go back to unpacking Tully’s boxes with her.
I grumbled under my breath. My brother Dean would laugh and say something about all women being stubborn.
“Maybe a little, and I know you didn’t want me to.
Usually, I’d agree with you on this.” Birdie is standing too fucking far away from me, and since I can rectify the situation, I do.
Rocky is lying in the dog bed I placed near the window in our bedroom.
When Dean and I were finished at Tully’s, we loaded what was Birdie’s and brought it to my place.
What I didn’t expect to find was not one, not two, but three dog beds for Rocky.
Apparently, he likes to be anywhere his momma is, which means we have a dog bed in our bedroom, the living room, and a spare that she said will probably go in the corner of the kitchen.
“Well, Tully worked her ass to the bone. Stayed back to pick up the pieces of my catastrophe, took care of my boy, picked up her whole life to move here, and did it all with a smile. There was no way I was leaving her to unpack and get settled in alone.”
“I get that, but you had me and Dean there. We would have done whatever was needed, babe. I can’t protect you when you go rogue.
Now you’re limping, holding your damn side, and tomorrow, you’ll be hurting all over again.
” I may not be able to heal Birdie overnight, but I can damn sure help relieve some of her aches and pains.
“I have zero plans tomorrow except to have your mom and my mom over. I have ideas for their websites. Plus, with them here, maybe I won’t bother you nearly as much.
” The tips of my fingers pull at the fabric of her tank top, urging her closer to where I’ve moved.
The master bathroom was one of the areas I told my mom to design.
She’s the reason there’s a giant soaker tub.
Mom said I’d thank her one day, and that day is going to be today.
“Babe, you’re never a bother. You need me, you call me, you text me, you shout my name from the rooftops. I am there.” None of this bullshit where Birdie thinks she’s a burden. I’ll be goddamned if that’s ever the case. “You hear me?”
“I hear you, Lane.”
“Good. Now, I’m going to get you in the bathtub.
You’re gonna soak while I make us some dinner, and by no means are you going to unpack those boxes in the living room.
I’ll put them in the appropriate rooms, and we’ll get to them tomorrow when I’m through with work.
” I lift her shirt up. She knows what I’m about to do, and while only last night and through the night I had no problem taking her, tonight is a completely different story.
My cock can wait, and no way am I going to let it do the thinking when she’s not feeling her best.
“Stay put. I’m going to start the bath, then I’ll help you.” I reluctantly move away from her, head to the tub, and turn the faucet on.
“Okay,” she replies. The hot water rushes out immediately, and while I know Birdie likes to boil her skin in the hottest water possible, there’s no way she can ease herself into the bath.
I use my wrist until it’s at a happy medium of hot but not too hot.
“I only have one problem. I overdid it. I agree with you entirely, but getting in and out of the bathtub might pose a problem. My arms feel like jelly, and my legs do, too.” I’m back to her the second I’ve got the bathwater running and her shirt is barely off her body when she delivers this last set of news.
“Jesus, Birdie, what am I gonna do with you?” I continue undressing her, working the button and zipper of her jean shorts, watching as she does a shimmy until they slide down her legs, lying in a pool of fabric at her ankles.
“Well, I’d say anything you want except for tonight.
I wouldn’t be able to give myself to you completely.
Even I know my limit.” I arch my eyebrow up.
Birdie does not, in fact, know her limits, or she wouldn’t be standing here hurting while I undress her.
“Okay, fine. Rain check?” She goes to slip her hand behind her back to unclasp her bra.
“Fucking quit. I’ll undress you, help you in the bath, help you out of the bath. Stand there and be still for me, would you?”
“Sir, yes, sir,” she jokes. My hand takes over, flicking the clasp in one go. Her tits shake with her laughter, and my eyes leave hers to watch as more of her body is presented to me.
“Birdie, damn it, woman. You are doing nothing in the way of helping my dick stay in my pants.” I drop the red lace bra to the floor and watch as her thighs clench together as I breathe in her scent. Fuck, this is going to be a lot more difficult than I planned.
“You act like I can help the fact that my body reacts to the merest touch of yours.” I pull the remainder of the lace down her legs.
It’s a fucking match to her bra, and there she is, soaked.
Wetness is coating her bare pussy. I lick my lips, close enough to take from her yet holding myself back in order not to hurt her.
“Same goes, Birdie, same fucking goes. Come on, time to get you in the bath.” I’m going to need a minute to calm my shit, or I’m going to strip down and get in with her.
My hand clutches hers, and I catch a glimpse of us in the mirror.
Birdie is naked to my clothed, she’s soft to my hard, she is fucking magnificent, and she’s all fucking mine.
“I think I can get in on my own. Getting out will be the hardest,” she tells me after a few short steps. We’re already in front of the tub, and I shake my head.
“All the same, I’ll help you in, just to be on the safe side. Now isn’t the time to be independent, baby. Let me help you so you don’t suffer.” My hand slides from hers to her elbow, holding it in a firm and steady grip.
“One day, you’re going to be in a similar position, and just wait and see how you act.
You’re going to hate every second of me taking care of you as well as not allowing you to do anything.
” She lifts one leg up, her toes meeting the water first, making sure it’s to her liking before placing her foot completely in the water.
“Highly unlikely, but sure, we’ll go with that.
” She grumbles in the back of her throat, and I smile.
I’d be the worst patient there is, which is why I plan on not doing anything to turn me into one.
I wait until she’s completely submerged and the water is up to her shoulders before I turn the water off.
“You need anything before I get dinner started?” I ask.
Her eyes are closed, head tipped back, and I make a note to get her some shit like a pillow or something, maybe one of those bathtub trays Mom has in hers, and whatever else.
“My phone? I want to check on Tully.”
“You got it.” I’m bent at the waist, moving a tendril of her hair and placing a kiss on her forehead. I’ve got to get shit done, and staying here in the bathroom with her won’t accomplish cooking dinner, that’s for sure.