Ashley smirked.
“I’m good with my hands,” hesaid. “Better with my mouth.”
He wasnotgonna letup, was he?
I didn’t really want himto.
“Still flirting after seeingthis?” I asked.
“Why shouldn’t I be?” Ashleyasked, kneading my thigh with both hands now. The ointment was as rubbed in asit was ever going to be, but he didn’t seem inclined to stop.
I wasn’t inclined tostop him, either.
“If you’re under theimpression that I’m notveryinto the idea of taking care of my ownpersonal wounded soldier, I’m sorry I’ve misled you,” he continued. “I haven’tsaid an insincere word to you since you got here.”
My guts twisted as he lookedat me again, pretty blue eyes holding me in place.
He’d seen me at my worst andhe was still here, digging his fingers into the evidence that I wasn’t perfect.Ashley hadn’t flinched.
Ashley was stillflirtingwith me, and telling me hewantedthis.
Fuck.
Taking care of his ownpersonal wounded soldier.
It’d never occurred to me thatanyone might want to take care ofmebefore. Taking care ofpeople wasmyjob.
And here was Ashley, rubbingfirm, soothing circles on my thigh and still looking at me as though I wassomething worth having.
Need curled around my chest,squeezing tight.
He wanted me. He’d seen me as Iwas, he’d shared space with me for days, and he stillwantedme.
“You’ve gone quiet,” Ashleysaid.
He was stroking my leg now.Not rubbing, not massaging, just stroking.
The pain was more or lessgone. Or at least, it’d faded to the dull ache I was used to, a reminderthat I wasn’t the man I used to be.
Was it wrong that Ashleymade me feel like that didn’t matter?
And if itwaswrong,did I want to be right?
“Thinking,” I admitted. “Aboutyou.”
Ashley smiled, eyes lightingup. My heart lurched, body almost following.
“What’re you thinking aboutme, exactly?” he asked, lowering his eyelashes.
My insides squirmed. Ilikedbeing flirted with, and I was kidding myself if I pretended I didn’t like it whenAshley did it, too.
I scratched a sudden itch atthe back of my neck. What if…
Ashley’s smile turnedinto a wicked grin as if he could read my thoughts.
Either time slowed down, orAshley had the patience of a saint as he leaned in, inching closer to me as myheartbeat thumped in my ears. I smelled his shampoo first, sweet and fruitylike a strawberry milkshake, and my eyes fell closed.
No need to overthink this.Not when his hand still resting on my leg felt so good.
