He made me dinner. Becauseof coursehe did.
At least my casserole had covered his first day of recovery. Not that he’d recovered much then, either, insisting on that parole meeting. Thankfully, his boss had taken one look at him and sent him home.
I dried my hands. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I wish everyone would stop asking me that.”
I smiled. “You might have better luck with that when your face isn’t sporting black-and-blue highlights.”
“Ha. Good one.”
He rubbed his fingers gingerly over the bruise on his jaw. He’d have a solid week before the marks faded, but theywouldfade. He was lucky it hadn’t been worse.
I tossed the dish towel on the counter and came into the room. “How about you let me check you out?”
“You can check me out anytime, Doc.” He waggled his eyebrows.
I snorted. “Okay, can you sit up?”
“I can do you one better.” He pushed himself upright and stood. “See? Fully functional.”
“Uh-huh.” I reached for the hem of his T-shirt and lifted it up to check the bruising on his ribs. “How’s your pain?”
“I’m suffering, but it’s got nothing to do with the fight.”
“Huh?” I glanced up at him and caught his expression—eyes hot and intently focused on me—then glanced down at the rock-hard erection pressing against his jeans. “Oh. You know we shouldn’t…”
He groaned. “Come on, Aiden. I rode my bike today. If I can ride it, I can ride you.”
I sucked in a breath at the image that put in my head. There was no way, though. Knight’s body was still healing.
“C’mon, Angel,” he coaxed. “Kiss my boo-boos and make them all better.”
That startled a laugh out of me.
Knight drew his shirt up farther, tugging it over his head. If he could do that, he was moving pretty decently. I couldn’t resist leaning in to press my lips to his ribs.
He buried a hand in my hair. “Feels better already.”
I kissed down to his hip, sinking to my knees, and nuzzled into his lower navel before looking up at him. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”
“Baby, if I was any more up, my cock would break in two.”
I snorted a laugh. “Well, we can’t have that. My Hippocratic oath is to do no harm.”
“Exactly.” He grinned at me. “It’s your duty as my doctor to make me feel better.”
I stood up. “Okay, let’s take this to the bedroom so you can be comfortable. I want you to let me do all the work.”
He chuckled. “Well, if you insist…”
I nudged him toward the hall. “I do. No straining yourself or worrying about me, okay? This is all for you.”
He sent me a look over his shoulder, brow furrowed. Okay, maybe that had been too much. But I’d been off-balance ever since he stumbled into the house after that attack.
I didn’t like seeing him hurt. Didn’t like the way he tried to shrug it off like his pain didn’t matter.
He deserved care and comfort, but he wouldn’t ask for it.
