“It’s not even mine.”
“Right,” I take out my knife. She sucks in a breath. “Hold still.”
I slice through the offending dress shirt in one fell swoop. Then, I remove it from around her head and neck. The knife is back in its holster before you can blink.
“Ow,” Cat moans.
I freeze. “Did I hurt you?”
She shakes out her arms and hands. “No. But my arm went numb trying to get out of that shirt.”
My eyes connect with hers in the mirror. My hands have a mind of their own and are suddenly rubbing up and down on her arms. She closes her eyes and leans into me, creating a very uncomfortable situation south of the border in my pants.
“Um,” I clear my throat.
Her eyes fly open. “Right. Thanks for the assist. I’ve got it from here.”
I watch her try to unhook her bra with one hand. After three tries, she glances at me in the mirror again. I say nothing. She raises her eyebrows. I mimic her facial expression.
She sighs. “Fine. Idon’t got itfrom here.”
“Kitten, if you want me to help you into the shower, all you have to do is say the word.”
Her eyes roll to the ceiling, mentally weighing the options. As I wait, my dick grows harder. There’s no way she misses what’s going on down there. I’m about to leave the bathroom to take care of the issue when a barely-audible word escapes her lips.
“What did you say?” I step to the side to get a good look at her face.
She closes her eyes. “I said - please. I need your help.”
“All right, Kitten.”
I’m two seconds away from making another joke about it when I catch the lines of exhaustion on her face. Her mouth is pulled tight, likely from the pain in her shoulder. The vet didn’t have any painkillers for human consumption, and all Ev had in the house was over-the-counter meds. I overlooked a wariness around Cat’s eyes earlier, and just like that, my cock retreats.
This woman needs my help, not my hard-on.
I move to the walk-in shower and turn on the water to warm up. Then, I remove Cat’s bra and the rest of her shoes and clothes. I fight the urge to check out her naked body. The fact that she says nothing tells me how much pain she’s in, and the last thing she needs is me leering at her.
She grips the shower door with her good arm and hisses as she tries to step under the water.
I shake my head and shuck off my pants, knife, and shirt, keeping my boxer briefs.
“What are you doing?” Cat gapes at me.
“I’m helping you get the blood and grime cleaned off,” I lead her into the shower. “You asked for help. You’re getting it.”
She snorts. “You forgot to add anor elsein there.”
I smile. “No, I didn’t.”
Her eyes narrow, but she says nothing more. I maneuver her under the stream of water. She groans.
“Does that hurt?” I’m ready to pull her out of the shower if needed.
“No,” she shakes her head. “Feels good.”
“Okay,” I reach for the shampoo. “Let me do the hard work. You hold still.”
“That’s what he said,” Cat snorts.
