Page 46 of Whoa


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“This cast is heavy,” I said, lifting my thigh off the counter, watching the muscles quiver with the effort.

“I’ll help you,” he replied, kneeling at my feet to gather the pants and slide the hem over the foot without the cast.

The room was silent as I stared down at his bowed head, noting the mussed-up style of his sandy-blond hair. “Your feet are like ice,” he noted when his fingers brushed against one.

I watched him fall back onto his ass and lift his feet to yank the socks right off them.

“Ben!”

“Hush,” he scolded, bunching up one white crew sock to slide it over my chilled toes, pulling it up beneath the elastic hem of the pants.

I sighed, his body heat making me tingle.

“Good, huh?” he asked, and I bobbed my head.

“I don’t think it’s going to fit,” I said when he started bunching up the other leg to pull it over the cast.

He made a rude noise and then yanked the fabric. The sounds of ripping seams filled the room. “Your pants…” I worried.

“Will fit now.” He finished, tugging them gently over my cast. True to his word, the elastic band did fit, having been stretched to do so.

He tugged the fabric, standing as he went, his body so close to mine that my heart fluttered. “I’m gonna lift you down a minute, okay?” he asked. “Just hold on to me. Don’t put any weight on your leg.”

Unable to speak, I merely nodded.

His muscled arm wound around my waist, clutching me with confidence as he easily lifted me off the counter, guiding me toward the floor. My leg muscles quivered and groaned as he straightened, and I grasped at him tighter, afraid they would buckle beneath me.

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice like a caress as his hands hovered over the swell of my hips.

When I tipped my chin back, our stares bounced between us as the air in the room turned thick once more. My heart pounded heavily, thumping to its own rhythm, and my body relied on his to keep me upright as I clutched at his shoulders, admiring the strength in his body.

“Okay?” he murmured.

I nodded, my forehead lightly bumping his chin.

His stubble was soft.

“Hold on to me.” He reminded me, then slid down my body, robbing my breath and making my hands go from clutching his shoulders to his hair instead.

“Ben.” I was breathless, tightening my grip on his hair to try and pull him back up. “What are you doing?”

The soft material of the sweats glided up my legs, sliding beneath the hideous hospital gown. His knuckles brushed over the outside of my hips and then again at the place where my waist dipped in on the sides.

His fingers lingered there, lightly playing against the skin where the waistband of his pants met my body. Beneath the thin hospital gown, my nipples puckered until they ached, and I swayed closer to his chest.

“I was helping you put on these pants.” His voice was throaty and raw. “But if you keep pulling my hair like that, baby girl, I’m gonna yank them right back down and give you a real reason to hold on.”

My stomach dropped.

I wouldn’t be eating anything else for the rest of forever. Why? I no longer had a stomach to digest anything. All I had now was an ache… and the urge to keep pulling his hair.

I let out a shaky breath, slackening the grip I was using. His eyes had darkened and watched me with hawklike precision. My legs started to shake as he trailed his fingers up both my arms to encircle my wrists and gently pull them down.

He abandoned one hand to his shoulder, but the other he lifted to his lips. I watched with rapt attention as he stared at me while pressing a kiss against my palm.

Oh my God. He’s so hot. Giddiness coursed through my veins. How the hell is he mine?

“Shirt next,” he said, reaching behind him to grab a fistful of the T-shirt covering his chest.

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