“Samantha, then?”
We share a look, and I extend a hand. We shake.
“Nice to meet you,” I say.
I walk to the old fireplace and check it. As usual, the fireplace is ready to be lit. I crouch with the silver lighter from above it.
Two minutes later, the wood crackles, and I shuffle it around for maximum warmth.
“I’ll bring you hot tea, and as you can see, there are plenty of books. Your wound should not bleed but take it easy. I bound it tight.”
An entire wall is covered with books, and she and I sweep our eyes over them.
“They kept me entertained as a kid, but they also kept me far from the public and becoming social.”
As I walk to the door, she calls out, and I turn. “Hey, is that you and a tiger?”
I follow her eyes, and I nod. It is a photo of me and my tiger. I am reminded to visit him tomorrow.
“Yes, it is. And it’s a long story, now rest.”
I pause at the door, realizing she is shivering.
Returning minutes later with one of my own shirts, I sit next to her on the bed. “Don’t think anything of it.”
“As if,” she says, and our eyes catch.
She goes to lift herself up, struggles, and winces. “Need help?”
She nods, and I help her sit properly. As she raises her arms straight up, I avoid her eyes and her body. “Up higher, you’re wet.”
As I lift her wet top off her, it is hot as fuck. I keep looking away from her naked body, and my heart speeds up. I hold her upright and I get the fresh, pressed white business shirt. I help get her arms in it, and our eyes lock.
She watches me, as if I will admire her perfect breasts. I do not, but as I do up her buttons, one by one, I start to get hard.
Our eyes hold as I finish. “Now, lie down,” I command.
She winces as she does, and I try not to imagine her butt and the white panties. I then lift the fresh white sheet and cover over her as the fire light flickers.
“Still hate me?”
“More,” she says, meaning it.
I can’t help but smile, and we stare each other out.
She raises her chin and laser-eyes me as if she wants me dead. As she smells my shirt, she raises a suspicious brow. “Smells of you.”
“Right?” I ask, playing along. “And what smell is that?”
“Bossy, commanding, and cold.”
I lift the bedcover an inch higher around her chin to keep her warm. She looks all snuggly inside. I am close to her face, and I like it way too much.
“Well, at least I’m not making you moan.”
She squints and watches me closely. I like having her in my bed, and I like it way too much.
I tussle her hair playfully, resisting the urge to kiss her nose. “Now, rest up. Hot tea is coming,” I say, commanding her.
