I chuckle to myself as I remove my shirt, tucking my cuff links into my pocket so I don’t lose them. While I wait for her to come back, I stare into the dying embers of the fire and wonder what the hell I’m going to do now. I shouldn’t have touched her. Now I’ve had a taste, I can’t tame my inner beast or continue denying what’s been blatantly obvious from the moment I set eyes on Sloane.
I want her. Under me. Over me. On all fours. In every way imaginable.
And it’s problematic on many levels, but especially because she might not want me when she realizes exactly who she’s been kissing.
A heavy sigh escapes my lips, and my bones feel weary. Thoughts of earlier return, and I scrub my hands down my face, ignoring the pinch in my arm with the motion. The discovery is not a welcome development, and it doesn’t bode well.
Sloane returns, interrupting my thoughts. Her footsteps falter as she comes closer. Her eyes are like heat-seeking missiles where they roam every inch of my bare chest. Shivers dust over my flesh in every place her gaze lingers, and my dick is about ready to bust from my pants.
Tension bleeds into the air when she stops directly in front of me. Her hands shake as she places a bowl of water down on the desk alongside the medical kit. Sparks crackle in the air, and it’s taking every molecule of self-control not to strip her bare and impale her on my aching cock. I long to bury myself deep inside her and stay there for the rest of the night.
Gripping the edge of the desk, I remind myself she’s vulnerable as the tension twists and tightens, ready to snap at any second. Sloane dips the cloth in the water and wrings it out. Her head lifts, and her gaze ensnares mine. “You’re beautiful, Cristian,” she whispers, dragging her eyes over my broad shoulders and down over the ink on my chest and along one side of my body.
“I can say the exact same. I don’t think you realize how completely stunning you are.”
Heat crawls up her neck and onto her face, and she can’t contain her shy smile. I don’t move a muscle as she lifts her arm, moving it tentatively toward me. Reassuring her with my eyes, I hold myself perfectly still as the tips of her fingers trace over the ink on my arms and my chest. I bite on the inside of my cheek, trapping a groan, when her fingers explore the dips and grooves of my abs, and I’m clinging to my sanity by a thread. Sloane doesn’t explore any lower, but she must see the bulge straining my pants and know it’s all for her.
“Like I said—beautiful,” she whispers as her cheeks turn a deeper shade of red. She kisses me softly on the lips before switching her attention to my wounded arm. “This might sting.” Sloane presses the damp cloth to my skin, and my heart thumps steadily as I watch her carefully clean and dry my wound. I’m completely mesmerized by her. She has bewitched me, and I like being under her spell. The bullet only grazed my arm, so it’s not serious, but it still stings like a bitch when she dabs it with an iodine-based antiseptic. Then she applies an aloe vera salve before bandaging it. “You should get a doctor to look at it. You might need some butterfly bandages.”
“I’m sure it’s fine.” It’s not like it’s the first scar to adorn my body. I have plenty of war wounds, but most are covered by ink and not visible unless closely examined.
“Your turn.” Picking up the tub, I stab her with a purposeful look. I haven’t forgotten she’s hurt too. “I see my mother is trying to convert you to the wonders of aloe vera.” I can tell it’s from Mom’s stash because she’s been buying her products from the same local salon for years. Swearing by its healing properties, she has oodles of the stuff all over the place. I’m not surprised Mama was mothering Sloane in my absence. Nurturing is second nature to her, and I can tell she’s already very taken with Elio’s nanny.
I inwardly groan at the thought. I was supposed to keep things professional, and I’ve really fucked it up now.
“She doesn’t need to convert me. I’m already a fan.” Sloane snatches the tub out of my hand. “You don’t need to do that. I can do it myself.”
I put myself all up in her space. “Shut. Up. Sloane.” I smirk as I turn her words back around on her. “Lie down on your stomach on the couch and lift your top,” I instruct, plucking the tub from her slim fingers.
She nibbles on her lip, and my blood sizzles. “Sloane,” I growl, seconds from throwing all my self-made rules out the window, tossing her over this desk and having my wicked way with her. “Lie the fuck down.”
Her gaze dips to my mouth for a fleeting second before she pivots around and walks over to the couch. I discreetly adjust myself in my pants and caution myself to behave. Despite her bravado, Sloane has got to be freaked out over everything, and I won’t take advantage of her vulnerability. Not any more than I already have done, at least.
My mouth turns dry as she lies down and pulls her top up to her upper back. The sleep shorts she’s wearing barely cover her ass, and my fingers itch with a craving to fondle her shapely cheeks. My lips long to drop a line of kisses along her spine. Her tan skin is flawless and begging for my touch.
I’m going to hell, I think, as I drop to my knees at her side. Soft warmth from the dregs of the fire heats my back. Sloane’s trusting eyes meet mine as I move closer to examine her side. Discoloration is already showing from the top of her ribs down to her hip bone, and she’s going to be black and blue tomorrow. Remorse is instant. “I’m so sorry.” I unscrew the lid and plunge my fingers into the cold gel.
“Don’t be,” she quietly says. “You protected me, and I’m grateful. I’d rather a few bruises than a bullet.”
“I would never let that happen,” I say, bringing my fingers to her skin.
She flinches when the gel hits her flesh. “Fuck, that’s cold.”
“Mama likes to keep it in the refrigerator, though I’m not sure it makes any difference to the effect.”
“My mom always kept it in the refrigerator too. She used to put it on me when I was little if I got sunburned,” she says, her gaze instantly tearing up. “The coldness was always soothing.”
“I’m glad you have lots of good memories of her,” I say as I gently coat her bruised skin.
“She was the best mom.” A tear rolls down her face, and my heart hurts for her.
“I think you should speak to someone,” I suggest, mopping up the tear with the pad of my thumb. “I can get the name of a good therapist, and I’ll cover the cost.”
“Thank you for offering, but it’s too soon,” she whispers before turning her head to the opposite side, away from me.
We don’t speak as I continue to cover her sore skin with the aloe gel. My fingers edge low, brushing against the waistband of her sleep shorts. She squirms a little as I carefully rub the gel in. I could do this all night. I’m addicted to the feel of her velvety-soft skin, and my hand is tingling every time I touch her. Moving my hands back up, I work the gel in with soft strokes so I don’t hurt her. When my fingers brush against the underswell of her breast, I snap myself out of it and yank my hand back. “I think that should do,” I croak, putting the lid back on the gel and jumping to my feet. I adjust myself again in my pants, willing my hard-on to back the fuck down.
“Thank you.” Sloane curls her arms around me from behind, and I close my eyes, savoring the feel of her warm body pressing against mine. My hands cover hers at my stomach, and we don’t say anything as we embrace. I don’t know how long we stand there like that, but when she yawns, the spell is broken.
