Nursing the Flame, page 9
“Stop it.” She lightly pushed his hand away from the handle before he could pull it. Exasperation flashed in her eyes. “You can’t be serious right now.”
Frustration and anger heated his blood. “I don’t want to be dependent on someone.”
“Well, that’s understandable. But the bad news is you’re going to be for a while.” She placed her hands on her hips, standing in front of the chair so he couldn’t get up if he wanted to.
“You’re pushy. You should go.” He couldn’t help but glare at her.
“You’re surly. I’m not leaving.” She met his glare, her blue-eyed gaze unwavering. “I know how much this must suck, Reggie. But accept my help or I’ll call your mom and sister back.”
He swore under his breath and shook his head. “The pills are in the kitchen.”
She nodded and disappeared into the kitchen, returning a moment later with the prescription bottle.
“You’re lucky you have such a caring and sweet family.” Her expression softened. “Not all of us are so blessed.”
He knew she didn’t talk to her parents much—and had no siblings—but hadn’t figured out why. With a low grunt, he muttered, “Why aren’t you closer with your parents?”
She shrugged and shook her head. “They were busy surgeons who didn’t really want kids. They admitted I was the result of an unplanned pregnancy, and they decided to just give it a try. I mean, they’re not bad people. They did all the parenting things and kept me safe. They just weren’t overly affectionate with each other or with me. Once I hit eighteen, I left home and moved to Seattle. Honestly, I think they were relieved.”
Disbelief and anger mixed with the pain raging through him. “I don’t know . . . not being affectionate isn’t what I’d call doing the right parenting things. Seems pretty important to me.”
“I agree. Anyway, I’m kind of mortified I admitted all this right now—while you’re already miserable.” She grimaced. “But my point was, not everyone has such caring siblings and parents.”
“You’re right,” was about all he could manage through the grumpiness and pain. While he took the pills, she stuck close to watch.
“It is what it is. Anyway, try and stay on top of the pain,” she said softly. “If you get behind, you’re playing catch-up and miserable.”
He didn’t bother to reply because he didn’t trust himself not to say something harsh or sarcastic. She was right. He was surly. And discouraged.
The fact that she was here to witness it just made it all worse.
“How about I put on a show?” she offered. “A movie? The news?”
“You should put on that show, Go Home.”
“I’ve never heard . . . oh, wait, that was a joke. Cute.” Her smile turned sympathetic as she grabbed the remote next to him to turn on a show.
Damn it. He didn’t want her sympathy.
She made him watch some stupid game show on Netflix that was just weird. The contestants had to guess if something was a cake that looked like a cake or a purse. When it was over, he wasn’t sure if he was relieved or bummed.
He’d started to get into it. And fortunately, the pain meds had kicked in.
“That was fun, right? I can’t bake a cake for shit. Store-bought all the way.” She smiled. “Is the pain better?”
“Yeah.” He grunted.
“Good. So I think the next thing I want to help you with is”—she sucked in a quick breath and blinked—“taking a shower.”
*
Maybe she should’ve eased into that one.
Oh Lord, Reggie looked like he was going to have a stroke. His brows furrowed deeply and his eyes rounded. Had he stopped breathing?
Amber forced herself to stay calm. Unwavering.
“You’re not helping me take a shower.”
“Would you rather I call your mom or sister back? Or I can call Nicole if you—”
“No.” The vehement word was a mix or horror and frustration. “Nicole broke up with me.”
Shock ripped through her. She struggled to reply. Finally, “You can’t be serious. There’s no way anyone could be so awful.”
But Reggie’s expression didn’t change, and it sank in that he wasn’t lying.
“She dumped me after the party, before the fire injury. Let me think how she phrased it. Okay.” He adjusted his glasses. “I move slower than a turtle, and she’s done wasting her time on a guy who won’t even put out.”
Reggie hadn’t slept with her?
The thought was kind of shocking. They’d been together for four months.
“I’m so sorry. She sounds like a major bitch.” Amber lifted her finger and her tone brightened. “Which means my first impression of her was right.”
The first hint of a smile twitched at his lips.
Stay on track. His relationship status isn’t your concern here.
“Anyway, you can’t do this alone, and I know it’s been several days, at least since you’ve had a proper shower.” She sighed and tried to gentle her tone. “Your mom put a shower chair in there. We’ve got this.”
“You’re not seeing me naked.”
“Well, it’s going to be a challenge, but we can do this. I’ll avert my eyes until you drape a towel over your lap,” she said primly.
The way his jaw was clenched so tight must’ve hurt. They held the stare, neither looking away.
“Fine,” he bit out. “But I’m only agreeing because I stink like something the cat dragged in.”
She hadn’t noticed, really, because she was still emotionally overwhelmed at seeing him like this. Wounded and hurting. In so much pain. And angry.
Knowing there was a limit on the help he’d accept, she handed him his crutches and watched as he used them to lift himself from the chair.
His impressive biceps strained under the white T-shirt, but he made it look easy enough. But she knew it wasn’t easy. He was just good at pretending it was.
By the time they arrived at the bathroom, he had a sheen of sweat on his forehead.
“Why don’t you sit down and get your shirt off? I’ll grab a garbage bag to cover your leg.” She glanced at his baggy shorts. “I can help you with your shorts and underwear if you need it.”
“There’s no underwear at the moment, and I don’t need the help.”
Don’t visualize what’s under those shorts, Amber. Don’t do it.
She went to find a garbage bag in the kitchen and located some beneath his sink. By the time she came back, Reggie sat on the shower chair with his glasses and shirt off. A towel was over his lap, but he struggled to get his shorts past the brace on his broken leg.
“Here.” She sank to her knees in front of him. “Let me help get that off.”
“God, could this get any more humiliating?” He slammed his fist against the shower wall.
Her breath caught, surprised at the emotional outburst. Though, she probably shouldn’t have been.
“I know it must make you feel incredibly vulnerable.” She gently maneuvered the shorts over the brace. “And it sucks. But this is only temporary.”
His eyes closed, and his mouth compressed into a tiny line. The frustration he clearly felt showed up in the tremors she could see in his body.
She did the only thing she could to lighten the mood.
“So just pretend I’m about to suck your dick or something.” She flashed an encouraging smile. “Then it won’t be as awkward.”
He froze, and the towel on his lap lifted slightly.
Oh god.
She hadn’t expected that. Maybe she should’ve, though, with her blatantly erotic joke.
Moving on quickly, she grabbed the garbage bag and eased it as carefully as she could over his braced and wrapped leg.
Still, she wasn’t a pro at this and knew when he winced, she’d hurt him. Guilt and regret hit.
“I’m sorry if I’m hurting you.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’ll get better each time, I swear.”
“There isn’t going to be a next time.”
There absolutely would, and they both knew it. But she didn’t waste her breath arguing. Instead, she rose to turn on the shower.
She tried to keep things as clinical as possible as she washed and conditioned his hair. Then tried to ignore the way the bar of soap left bubbles over the curls on his brown chest.
And she really tried to ignore the definition of his abdomen and the six-pack he had there, and the way the towel on his lap kept seeming to lift higher.
“I’ll let you handle the lower parts,” she muttered, handed him the soap, and turned her back.
Maybe he could’ve handled most of the washing and soaping himself, but she hadn’t minded helping. And he certainly hadn’t protested.
But she was glad when he made quick work washing his privates.
“You need to leave after this.”
Oh boy.
Reggie was in no shape to be left alone tonight, no matter how much he clearly wanted to be. It was his first night alone at the house by himself.
She kept her expression and her words calm as she dropped the bomb.
“I’m sleeping over. My bag’s in the car.”
“No, you’re sure as hell not,” he ground out. “I don’t need a nurse.”
“I’m not your nurse, thank god, because you’re a grumpy-ass patient. But I am your friend.” She hesitated on that last bit. Because it was clear, there was more than friendship between them.
She rehung the showerhead and turned off the water. Before she could step away, he shot a hand out to capture her wrist.
His long fingers tightened, tugging her close, so her knees brushed his naked ones.
“The only time I let a woman sleep over at my house is when my dick was just inside her.” His words were low and confident. “And even then, that’s not a guarantee.”
Her knees went weak and the breath in her lungs locked. Heat washed through her as her imagination took his words and ran with them.
His calloused thumb brushed over the inside of her wrist.
“Well, that might just be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me.” She attempted sarcasm.
He ignored it as his gaze darkened. “Unless that’s what you’re hoping for by staying over. Do you want that, Amber?”
Heat spiraled through her, and her thighs clenched. It was hard to get a good breath in between his words and the humidity in the bathroom.
Who was this man speaking to her so shockingly? Part of her refused to believe it was really him—Reggie, the nice guy. Maybe it was just the painkillers talking.
But then she thought about that moment in the alley. How rough and dominant he’d been, pinning her arms above her head as he ravished her mouth with that kiss.
She had a sense of how Reggie would be in bed, and it was anything but sweet and boring. Maybe his nice guy persona changed in the bedroom.
“I’m going to blame that charming little offer on the drugs you’re on.” She gave him an out, even if she didn’t quite believe it.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, but she ignored it.
“Is that what you want to believe? That it’s the meds talking?”
He was pushing her. Did he want her to blush and pull away? To get flustered and change the topic?
But that wasn’t her style, and he wasn’t backing down, so she gave as good as she got.
“No. I don’t want to believe that,” she said softly. “What I’d like to believe is that if your leg wasn’t broken, you would get up and throw me on your bed and do exactly what you described.”
His nostrils flared like she’d waved a red flag at him.
She twisted her wrist out of his grasp, but didn’t go far. She placed her hands on his shoulders and leaned down.
“But even if you were completely healthy, we both know you wouldn’t do it, Reggie.” She let her words turn mocking. “You won’t sleep with the girl bro.”
His eyes narrowed. “You have a boyfriend.”
She wasn’t sure she’d call him a boyfriend—more like the man she was half-assed dating.
“Sort of,” she admitted after a moment. “We haven’t even slept together.”
His chest swelled and his eyes narrowed. “Really?”
She let go of his shoulders, because it was hard to think while touching him. Hard to not want to explore the plains of his chest and lick off those remaining droplets of water.
“I know that might be surprising when most people fall into bed after the first date.” She folded her arms over her chest. “But we never went further than me letting him grope my breast after the barbecue the other day, and it felt about as sensual as I imagine a mammogram would be. So I stopped it there.”
Something flared in his eyes. “Why are you with him if he does nothing for you?”
“Why didn’t you sleep with Nicole?” she threw back at him.
“Because I have to have an emotional connection with a woman before I sleep with her. We never really got there.”
“In four months?”
“Answer my question now, Amber. Why were you with him?”
“Because being with him is a distraction from the man I really want,” she blurted.
It was a statement that threw her pride in the trash, but it wasn’t anything he didn’t already know.
Still, the regret came quickly.
“Forget I said that.”
Her phone buzzed again.
Before she realized what was happening, he’d reached into her sweatpants pocket and plucked out her phone.
“What are you doing?”
He glanced at the phone and then lifted it toward her. “Unlock it?”
What did he want it for? She should tell him no and walk away. Refuse to indulge whatever bullshit he was pulling.
So why did she lift his wrist higher, so the phone could unlock with her face ID?
What are you even doing right now, Amber?
She ignored the panicked voice in her head and stared down at him as he pressed a few buttons, stared, and then began to type.
“Rob wants to know if you like sushi,” he said.
He turned the phone around to face her, to let her read the screen and the message he’d typed in reply: Rob, I’m not really feeling this. I think we should stop seeing each other. I wish you the best.
Her heart quickened and her mouth went dry.
“Say the word, and I’ll hit send.”
“Reggie . . .”
“Say the word.” His voice dropped an octave, and his gaze settled on her breasts. “And then take off your shirt for me.”
She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t do anything except suck in air as his words registered.
With her mind reeling, she whispered, “Hit send.”
Chapter Eleven
A thrill of pure triumph rushed through him as Reggie pressed his finger to the send button and the whoosh of the text flying away sounded.
Then he put her phone on silent and tossed it to the bath mat nearby.
Fuck this Rob guy. His first impression about the dude had been right as well. Total tool.
And now? Amber was his. She’d agreed to his terms and even now he could hear her shallow breathing and the flicker of need in her eyes.
“Are you going to take that shirt off, Amber? Or would you like help?”
She drew in a sharp breath and her breasts rose beneath her top. “You were serious about that?”
With Rob officially out of her life, he was about to remind her that a man touching her breasts shouldn’t feel clinical. And god, he couldn’t wait.
“I don’t play with this kind of thing, Amber,” he warned softly. “We had a bargain.”
“Reggie . . .” she protested, as she brought her fist to her mouth and shook her head.
“You’re nervous.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You have a tell.”
Her eyes widened and swept back to him. “What?”
“I can tell when you’re nervous or hiding something.” He smiled. “Like in poker. When you have a bad hand, or you’re nervous, you nibble on your knuckle. Just like you’re doing now.”
She pulled her hand away from her mouth, realization dawning in her eyes.
“I wasn’t even aware I did that. It was subconscious. Shit. No wonder I can’t beat you in poker.”
His hands moved to her small waist, pulling her forward in a way that avoided his injured leg. She made a small gasp.
“I’ll stop anytime you ask me to.”
Her tongue swiped across her lips. “What about your leg?”
“I don’t need that leg for what I’ve got planned.”
Truth be told, his leg ached a bit. Even with the drugs. All the movement of getting to and from the shower made it impossible for it not to.
Which was another reason he needed the distraction of what was about to happen.
“What about your little bro code rule?” Her words held an edge.
The first flash of doubt hit, but he shook it aside. Ground his teeth together.
“Fuck it. They’ll never know, so it can’t hurt them. Can’t hurt us.”
He was going to be out of work for a few months, at least. He wouldn’t have to be around them all. Wouldn’t have to look them in the eyes at the station and know he was getting it on with Amber on their time off.
When he grabbed the hem of her T-shirt and slowly started to lift it, she made no move to protest.
With him sitting and her standing, her chest was nearly at eye level with him.
Her belly came into view first. Soft, but with a hint of muscle definition. The tiny crater of her belly button made his blood pump faster.
He lifted the shirt higher until purple lace appeared.
Almost impatient, or maybe self-conscious, Amber took over. She grabbed the hem and tugged it completely over her head in one quick motion.
His breath caught at her breasts—larger than he’d realized—and the pink tips nestled in the lace.
God, those were going to be amazing in his mouth.
First, though, he was going to make her forget all about Rob’s bad attempt at seduction.
He reached up to trace his fingers over the swell of one breast. Exploring the size and each curve and dip.
So soft.
