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“Then they won’t.”
Hope. Is it wasted? “Thank you.”
“Welcome.” He dips and kisses me deeply, and I soak up his affection, my fears chased away. Just for now. “I need to take a shower.” He gets up, pulling the condom off and dropping it in the bin by the dressing table.
I push myself up on my elbows, watching him stride to the bathroom, his arse cheeks like rocks, his back sharp, his legs long, his thighs thick. I grin mildly, just as he looks back, catching me admiring him.
“Get that fine ass in the shower now,” he orders.
My grin widens, and I shuffle off the bed, hurrying over, wincing at the constant pull of my muscles. I pass him. Yelp when he spanks my arse. “Fuck!”
“I have a bar of soap in here somewhere,” he grumbles, tackling me from behind, snaking an arm around my waist and lifting me off my feet. I yelp my surprise as he carries me into the stall, lowers me, and pushes me up against the tile, looming, his erection wedged against my stomach.
“Your bandage,” I whisper, full of lust.
“You can play nurse when we’re done.” He slips his hands behind my thighs and lifts me, pressing me into the wall. “Hold on.”
And we go again.
25
BRAD
* * *
In the shower. Without a condom. Dick. But, fuck, it felt fucking amazing. I pulled out, of course. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. And I feel guilty. Worried. It’s the biggest turn-on knowing she’s only ever known me in her body. And I have . . . been in many bodies.
I watch as she carefully wraps my arm while I sit on the edge of the bed, Pearl kneeling between my thighs. I know I said I’d never have her kneel for me. But this is nice. Being taken care of. Taking care of her. Being inside her. Jesus, it’s like nothing I’ve had before, and not just because she’s tight. I don’t have an urge to fuck like an animal to get my kicks. Weirdly, her pleasure is more important than mine. I want to take my time with her. Absorb every detail of her face, feel every tiny thing there is to feel. It should make me uneasy. Has for months. But I can’t deprive myself of her anymore. I’m at peace with how I feel. Which is . . . what? How do I feel?
“What?” she asks, peeking up at me through her lashes as she finishes.
“Nothing.” I dip and kiss her in thanks, helping her to her feet before grabbing my shirt off the bed and shrugging it on.
“May I?” She nods at the buttons, looking a little shy.
“You want to button me up?”
She moves in, starting at the bottom and slowly working her way up. I watch her with a mild smile. “Tie?”
“It’s not a tie kind of day,” I say, kissing her in thanks again. It’s a casual shirt kind of day for a casual, relaxed man. Shoot-outs, Russians, and Mexicans aside. I take my jacket and swing it on, casting my gaze down the towel wrapped around her. “I’ve been thinking,” I say, rolling over how to say this. Her head is tilted, her eyes interested. “Maybe we should think about protection.”
Her mouth opens, and I’m not sure if it’s because she was going to speak or because she’s surprised.
“I can wear a condom,” I go on. Hate it, but I’ll do it. “But, you know . . .” I shrug. Fuck me, I feel like a douche. “It was nice. In the shower.”
Her lips twitch. “Should I talk to Doc?”
I smile. “Talk to Doc.”
“Okay.” Easy as that.
I kiss her gently. “Anya’s going to ask where you were last night.”
“I’ll tell her I slept in the TV room.”
“That won’t wash forever.”
“What do you suggest?” She puts it straight back on me. I haven’t got a fucking clue. I honestly didn’t expect to be in this situation. What I do know is that I’m a grown man, and I am not sneaking around to see her. I also know the fact I’m sleeping with Pearl is going to go down like a concrete balloon. I need to think about this. And, strangely, I have the capacity to think today.
