I start to giggle but then stop. “Oh, it hurts to laugh,” I say, still smiling. “Are you going to feed me?” I smirk at him this time.
“Yes, ma’am. How do pancakes sound?”
“Yum. Something warm and sweet sounds perfect.”
“Coming right up.”
God. I feel like such a loser. He’s waiting on me hand and foot while I just lie here. I need to make it up to him, and I will. Somehow.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
HEALING POWERS
After breakfast,I carry my girl back into the bathroom for a shower. The shower has a built-in bench for her to sit on, so I don’t have to worry about her falling. I help her strip out of her scrubs and carry her into the shower. I strip out of my clothes and enter the shower stall.
“Sam? What are you doing?”
“I’m going to help you shower. What? Did you think I was just going to throw you in here and make you do it yourself?” I’m doing my best not to show any emotion now that she’s stripped down. My poor MacKenzie is cut and bruised everywhere. I want to punch shit, scream, and cry too. I can’t imagine what went through her head that night. All I know is there are more scars than these visible ones. I check the stitches so I’m not spraying them directly. Besides these actual stitches and adhesive ones, her arm and hand need to be cleaned and redressed. Luckily, I have everything I need for that too.
“No. I guess not.”
I turn on the water, wait until it’s the perfect temperature, and switch it over to showerheads. There are four showerheads in this shower, including a rain shower at the top, two more at various heights on the wall, and one handheld nozzle. I use thehandheld to wet her hair. I pour a dollop of shampoo into my hand and work it through her hair. It must feel good to her, because she moans as I scrub her head. I rinse her hair and grab a washcloth.
Making sure she’s not getting bombarded with water from the other sprays, I soap up the soft washcloth and start on her back. I work it down to her bottom, avoiding her injuries on the left. I let the soft spray work that area. I know the wound is glued, so I don’t want to damage that. I work the cloth over her shoulders and down her right arm and then her left to the elbow where another injury starts. I hate seeing these cuts. It makes me want to punch something orsomeone.
I do the same with her legs and then rinse the washcloth to remove any excess soap residue. I rinse her with the handheld and look down at her. Her eyes are closed, and she looks relaxed. “You okay, MacKenzie?”
“Huh?” She opens her eyes slowly. “Yes. That felt so good. I needed that. Thanks.” She smiles up at me, and I can’t help myself. I lean down to kiss her. I’m proud of myself because I’ve kept my dick in check. My focus is on her healing, but a kiss isn’t a bad thing. A kiss can help her heal. Right?
When my lips touch hers, I lose myself a little bit. As careful as I can be, I slide my fingers into her wet strands and kiss her, softly at first and then a little deeper. I’ve been so good about giving her chaste kisses, but this one is turning into something more. I need to stop.
When her tongue sweeps into my mouth, I can’t help it: I moan. Jesus, she can kiss. I pull her face up just a little bit for a deeper, more passionate kiss. She takes my breath away. She reaches up, touches my shoulders and then wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me down to her. I kneel in the shower in front of her—ignoring the tiles digging into my knees. We’re chest to chest now. My dick is rock-hard, and I know I’ve got topull back, but when she says, “I need you,” I literally whimper like a hungry dog.
“Baby, no. You’re hurt.”
“I don’t care. I need to feel you. I need to feel something other than pain and worry about the stupid Chicago Slasher.”
“MacKenzie.” I kiss her mouth softly. “If I hurt you right now, I’d never forgive myself.”
“I know.” A tear slides down her cheek. “I just want to stop thinking about it. Him. I keep seeing his face.”
“Maybe you should talk to someone?”
“I am, Sam. To you. Right now.”
“Right. Then let’s get you dry and into some clean clothes. Then we’ll talk. Okay? Tell me everything.”
“Okay.”
I carefully dry her hair and her body, avoiding her injuries. I help her back to the bedroom, grabbing one of my old T-shirts. I slide it over her head and arms and watch it catch on her breasts. Damn, I missed those in the shower. I tug the shirt over and down until it covers up the most beautiful little body I’ve ever seen. I help her scoot back into place. Her eyes are droopy with sleep.
“Do you want to sleep first and talk in a little while?”
“Probably a good idea. The shower was exhausting.”
As she settles in for a nap, I almost offer her something for pain but decide to wait until she asks for it. Those things are addictive.
“Night, babe. I’ll be in the other room doing a little work if you need me.”
