His words stay with me for a long time after he leaves. Once again, I feel like I’m being kept in the dark about something. But what?
Maybe my father hired his own doctor or team since his injuries were so serious.
That’s the only plausible thing I can come up with right now. And since Damon said we’ll talk about everything when I’m better, I’ll just add it to my ever-growing list of questions.
CHAPTER 19
VICTORIA
OVER THE NEXT several days, I’m starting to feel better, and my appetite has grown considerably. It’s as if I can’t get enough food shoveled into my mouth, and I can feel myself getting stronger. Even the treatments with the respiratory therapist for my lungs are helping, and it doesn’t feel like a knife is stabbing me inside my chest every time I take a breath.
I’m not one-hundred percent better, by any means, but any improvement at this point feels like a milestone on the road to a full recovery.
Damon has stayed by my side throughout it all, rarely leaving except when absolutely necessary, and it’s been nice having him so close.
Even after everything that happened, I still love him. And every day, my broken heart mends itself little by little.
After we eat breakfast together in my room, I tell him, “I’d really like to take a shower.” The sponge baths I’ve been getting from the nurse aren’t really cutting it, and I feel like a grimy mess.
Damon rubs at the back of his neck. “Nurse isn’t here right now, and doc said you’re not supposed to be left alone.”
“Then…can you help me?” I ask softly.
His eyes meet mine before he nods in affirmation.
Peeling back the layers of comforters, since I can never seem to get warm enough, Damon helps me from bed. My legs feel like jelly, and he supports most of my weight as he takes me to the adjoining bathroom.
“Dr. Warner told me the therapist is coming tomorrow,” I tell Damon. Now that my lungs are in better shape, I’m looking forward to physical therapy and getting stronger. I hate being dependent. If I’ve learned anything over the years, it’s that you can’t depend on people, because they almost always disappoint you.
I lean up against the counter and brush my teeth quickly while Damon turns on the water in the shower and tests it to make sure it’s not too hot. Then, he helps me strip out of my clothes. Once I’m naked, he slowly takes off his clothes.
His chiseled chest and abs have my thighs clenching in response. It’s been so long since I’ve touched him or felt him inside of me that my body’s immediate reaction is to jump his bones. Luckily for him, I’m too weak to do that right now.
He helps me into the shower, and I lean against the tiled wall. Damon is so gentle with me as he wets my hair, shampoos it twice and puts in conditioner. The ministrations of his thick fingers massaging my scalp has me moaning out loud.
“Feels so good,” I whisper.
The smell of peaches fills the shower as he adds body wash to a washcloth. He washes my back first since I’m leaned up against the wall. And then, he pulls me to him so that my back is resting against his front as he begins to slide the soapy cloth over my neck and shoulders. When he reaches my breasts, my nipples are so hard and sensitive as the cotton slides over them that I have to bite my lip to keep from crying out.
He continues down my stomach and to the apex of my thighs. And feeling the coarseness of the washcloth skim over my clit has me tensing up and panting. A groan escapes my lips as he washes me, grazing over my sensitive nub.
“Victoria,” Damon growls in warning, and I know he’s almost at his breaking point. His cock swells against my ass, and I grind myself back against him like a cat in heat. “We can’t do this right now, not until you’re better,” he says sternly, but I can hear his resolve starting to break.
He continues washing me, but this time he keeps his distance. And then it’s his turn, but he washes himself, much to my dismay. My greedy eyes peruse his wet, naked body as he soaps up every inch of his hard, muscular form.
Damon catches me watching him, and he flashes me his signature smirk. “You look so pretty when you pout,” he says.
Turning his back on me, he rinses off, leaving me even more frustrated when I catch sight of his incredible, muscular ass.
By the time we’re done with the shower, I’m so turned on that my mind feels foggy with lust. Damon dries us both off, wrapping me up in a towel before carrying me back to bed.
He stands a few inches away from me, his hands curled into fists at his sides like he’s forcing himself not to touch me.
Feeling bold, I let the towel fall open, revealing my naked body to him. Damon’s eyes wander over me before finally resting on my face. He looks at me with a pinched look on his face like he’s in pain.
“Please. Please touch me,” I beg him.
“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he growls before climbing onto the bed beside me. His large palm cups my cheek as his mouth finds mine. His lips are soft, and the stubble on his jaw is prickly, creating the perfect combination and sending me into a tailspin.
