“Blondie?” He faltered, the briefest stumble of his feet between the doorway and the toilet. Most people wouldn’t notice it, but I’d spent enough time analyzing the way his body moved and worked that I caught the hesitation.
“You know a blond guy with a snappy stabbing hand?”
Golden knelt in front of me and pressed the bag against the gauze on my side.
“More than one,” he answered, winding the tape around my stomach to secure the bag over my wound. “Come on, get in.”
He traced his fingers around the seal of the bag, then held out his hand for me. Golden helped me to stand and eased me into the tub. As the hot water sluiced around my thighs and the makeshift protection he’d fashioned over my stomach, I realized for the second time I was naked and Golden had been eye level with my junk while he patched me up.
Even in as much pain as I was, I didn’t hate that idea. My cock gave a brief jerk against my leg before floating in the water as I settled against the basin of the tub. Golden reached across me and picked up a bottle of body wash, squirting some into a black washcloth before giving me an expectant look.
I raised one of my arms out of the water and he cradled my wrist in his hand, washing me surprisingly thoroughly from my fingers to my armpit. He kept his hand out and I gave him my other wrist. He made a loose bracket with his fingers, moving me the way he needed so he could wash me. Golden was gentle with me, gentler than I’d ever been with him. The repetitive swoosh and swipe of the cloth up and down my arm lulled me back toward sleep, and I dropped my head against the wall of the tub with a groan.
“If you fall asleep, I’ll let you drown,” he said, letting my hand drop into the water.
“Duly noted,” I answered, not opening my eyes.
“Can you wash the rest of you?”
I cracked one eye open and found him on his knees, forearms resting on the edge of the tub, the soapy cloth in one of his hands, hovering above the water line.
“I don’t think so,” I lied. “It hurts.”
Golden exhaled dramatically and shoved his hand under the water, using the cloth to scrub at the flecks of dried blood on my stomach. He skirted the edges of the bag he’d taped against me, but as close as he was, it hurt.
Really hurt.
I gritted my teeth and squeezed my eyes closed tighter. There was no way he didn’t see my reaction, but he didn’t change the speed or the pressure with how he scrubbed at my skin.
“Lower, Golden,” I murmured.
“I’ll tear it off,” he warned.
I gave him a lazy smile. “No you won’t.”
As if to prove me wrong, he shoved his hand deeper into the tub, covering his palm with the soapy rag before grabbing my half-hard cock in a vise grip. I grunted, my balls tingling with the roughness of his touch.
Hewashedmy cock until I leaked precum into the soapy bath, then he dropped the rag and pulled the drain up.
“You’re clean,” he said, pushing up on the edge of the tub until he towered over me.
“Am I?”
“Probably not.” Golden pulled a thick, white towel off the bar beside him and held it out to me. “You’re probably the dirtiest fuck I’ve ever met.”
“I’m not sure which way you meant that,” I told him, leveraging myself out of the tub. He wrapped the towel around my waist and extended his hand to me. “But you’re right across the board.”
I stepped out of the tub and Golden picked the edge of his nail beneath the tape strip that wrapped my torso. Once he got a hold on it, he pulled, the tape unraveling and the plastic bag falling in a wet heap at our feet. The bandage seemed dry and unscathed, and we both stared at it, the silent questions lingering unasked between us in the small and steamy room.
I took a step toward him, my eyes locked on his. My hand throbbed, but I held the towel around my waist as I inched closer. Golden took a step back toward the door, his hip bumping into the vanity. I’d never seen him so off his mark. I stopped my approach and licked my lips, arching a brow at him, even though the motion felt like it ripped my face in half.
Golden chuckled, the tension immediately broken with the throaty sound he’d made.
“You haven’t seen your face yet, have you?” he asked, a red flush coloring up his cheeks. He looked down and cleared his throat. “I’ll get you some clean clothes.”
Golden cracked the bathroom door and slipped into the hall, closing the door again with a quiet latch behind him. I turned toward the mirror, letting the towel drop and bracing my hands against the vanity.
I looked like shit.
