He nodded, processing that. “Bathroom. Come on.”
“I can walk.”
“I know you can. But you're not going to.” Before I could protest, he scooped me up in his arms, careful of my shoulder, and carried me toward the bathroom.
“Grant—”
“Humor me.”
I let my head rest against his shoulder, too tired and satisfied to argue. He set me down carefully on the closed toilet lid and turned on the shower, testing the temperature with his hand.
“Warm enough?” he asked.
“It's fine.”
He helped me stand and guided me into the shower, following close behind. The warm water felt incredible on my sore muscles, washing away the sweat and come and evidence of what we'd done.
Grant's hands were gentle as he washed me, starting with my hair and working his way down. When he reached my ass, he was extra careful around the plug, making sure not to jostle it.
“This okay?” he asked.
“Yeah. Feels good.”
He washed himself quickly after, then turned off the water and grabbed towels. He dried me off with the same careful attention he'd shown while washing me, then wrapped the towel around my waist.
“Think you can make it back to bed?”
“I'm not that fragile.”
“I know. But I'm carrying you anyway.”
He scooped me up again, and this time I didn't protest. Just let him carry me back to the bedroom, where he set me down gently on the clean side of the bed—away from the wet spot we'd created.
“Stay put,” he ordered.
I watched as he stripped the soiled sheets and replaced them with fresh ones from the closet, moving efficiently around the small space. When he was done, he climbed into bed beside me and pulled me against his chest.
“Better?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
We stayed like that for a long moment, breathing in sync, tangled together in a way that felt both perfect and terrifying. His hand traced lazy patterns on my back, soothing and grounding.
“Get some sleep,” he murmured. “I've got you.”
And for the first time in a week, wrapped in his arms with his come plugged inside me, I believed him.
The world went soft and warm and quiet. For the first time in a week, I didn't feel alone.
CHAPTER 20
SNOW DAY
GRANT
For a disoriented second, I didn't understand what was happening. Then awareness filtered in through the fog of sleep—the soft, wet slide of a tongue, the gentle suction, the deliberate rhythm—and my brain finally caught up to what my body already knew.
Jace.
