Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 104157 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104157 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Jaz entered with ointment, pill bottles, and the items for his sponge bath. “You’re supposed to be in bed, señor.”
I didn’t bother hiding my told-you-so smirk.
He slow-blinked at the items in Jaz’s hands and shook his head. “I already told you both—I’m perfectly capable of showering.”
“La doctora said you’re not supposed to be moving around yet,” she said, setting everything on the counter. “Natalia needs to clean the wounds and change the bandages. I showed her how. It’ll take two minutes—just stand there.”
“Jaz, in five seconds, I’m going to hop in the shower,” he said, undoing the tie of his sweats. “So in three seconds, I’m pulling down my pants.”
“You’re too unstable. You could fall.”
Jaz was right—he could slip and hit his head. He could barely raise his arms without pain, though he tried to hide it. He needed help, but he’d never admit it. “I’ll join you,” I said.
His eyes glimmered as they met mine in the reflection. “Join me? You mean . . . in the shower?” The teasing in his voice almost made me rescind my offer.
“I owe you,” I said. Last month, I’d been the one injured in my bathroom as he’d removed glass from my feet. “For helping me after the warehouse fire.”
Any hint of jesting vanished from his face. “I’m the reason you were hurt in the first place.”
“I haven’t forgotten.” But he’d come for me. He’d scaled the side of a building about to blow just to help me. Diego, on the other hand, had left me to fend for myself as he’d tried—and failed—to salvage the Maldonados’ drugs.
I stepped toward Cristiano, hoping my cheeks wouldn’t redden. Flirting with my husband a few nights ago had been a glimmer of fun in a dark time, and we could certainly use some fun. “You cleaned and bandaged my wounds,” I said. “Let me do the same.”
“Thank you, Jaz,” Cristiano said. “You’re dismissed.”
With a twitch of her lips, she nodded once and left the bathroom. At least this time, she didn’t argue. Or else she saw what I was also coming to terms with—things had shifted between Cristiano and me.
I didn’t recognize this forward behavior in myself, but I’d seen it before. From the man in front of me looking pleased by my demand to take care of him.
I was staking my claim.
He’d told me many times before—I was his.
And for the first time, a small voice in my head answered back.
He was mine.
* * *
Cristiano watched in the reflection as I approached him from behind. “Lift your arms a little if you can,” I said.
He raised them slowly to give me access to the bandages around his middle.
“Does it hurt?” I asked, as I focused on peeling off the gauze.
“Will you kiss it better?”
Relentless. I hid my smile. “No.”
“Then no, it doesn’t.”
I frowned at the clean, red gashes, no longer than a toothpick, but wide enough that they needed thick, dark sutures to close them. After peeling the dressing from his chest, I discarded everything in the trash. I crossed the bathroom to flip on the shower, and when I turned back, he was there, standing in front of me. “Can’t shower in these,” he said.
My eyes dropped to his pants. “Do you need help?”
“Yes.” He cleared the rasp from his voice. “It hurts to bend anywhere.”
I had no doubt it did hurt, but since he rarely shared when he was in pain, I recognized his ulterior motives. Tonight, though, I’d let him get away with it.
My fingers grazed his skin as I worked the sweats over his muscular ass. I released a breath, grateful to see he wasn’t hard. Doctor Sosa had explicitly warned Cristiano about straining himself, but if he got sex on his mind, I wasn’t sure he’d heed her warnings.
But the sight of him exposed and in need of my help stirred my desire.
The designation of husband had taken on many meanings over the past several weeks. Tormentor. Protector. Teacher. I nearly shivered knowing how it would change again soon. Lover. The thought of sex with him had always excited me, even when it scared and shamed me. But as the days passed and Cristiano began to heal, my anticipation to finally submit to his advances grew more urgent.
It couldn’t be tonight. He was still far from healed.
But for all the times he’d enjoyed making me squirm, I could finally return the favor.
I held his gaze as I drew my nightgown over my head and dropped it with his pants. His eyes jumped to my breasts. My nipples were still two pebbled points, showing off for him.
I stepped into the shower first and held out my hand to help him.
As he moved under the stream of water, I soaped up a sponge and touched it to his back.
“No wounds back there,” he said over his shoulder. “You don’t have to be so gentle.”