“Thank you for this,” I clear my throat and sit down next to her.
She merely smiles at me before she moves, going down on her knees in front of me.
My eyes widen. Images from the night before, of her in the same position, flood my mind. Back then I was hurting too badly to focus on that. But now…? My mind is clear enough that the mere sight of her on her knees gives me…strange ideas.
“It looks so much better than last night,” she murmurs softly as she takes in my wound.
“It’s all because of your sewing skills.”
She laughs. “I suppose, though it’s my first time sewing flesh.” She glances up at me, her expression suddenly growing serious. “Although I do hope I will not havetoomany opportunities to do so in the future.”
The warning is clear. I give her a silent nod.
She sprinkles some medicinal powder on my wound to speed up the healing before she changes the dressing and wraps thebandage all around my torso. Her focus is entirely on tending to my injury.Myfocus is entirely on…other things.
How can Inotget those thoughts when she’s so close to me, her sweet, floral scent invading my nostrils? When the heat radiating from her body is so inviting? When her breath, fanning over my now-clean skin makes me break out in a sweat again?
How cananyhealthy male resist intrusive thoughts when the object of his fantasies is so close? It’s impossible.
“Done,” she exclaims with a smile.
“Uhm, yes. I… I should get dressed.” I suddenly stand up, looking for my shirt. Where did I put it?
“Your hand,” Moe says in a low voice.
“Huh?”
“The shirt is in your hand,” she adds.
Mortification floods me as I tighten my grasp over the shirt in my hand.
“Right. I knew that. I was just?—”
I was just what? Imagining you doing other things on your knees?
I squeeze my eyes shut. My cheeks are flaming.
“Right,” I repeat. “I’ll get dressed. You should, too. I promised you we’d go out today,” I ramble on—anything to get a small reprieve from the growing situation in my nether regions. “I’ll take you to Mesquine District to try their famous desserts,” I continue as I all but push her out of the room.
“What? But I thought you were just saying that because you were feverish.”
“No. We’re going. Meet me in the living room in ten minutes.”
I shut the door after her and take a deep breath. Closing my eyes, I try to think of unpleasant things so I can quickly resolve the situation in my pants—it seemed to work in the past.
When I feel ready enough to meet her again, I put on a shirt and a thicker sweater since my coat is now in tatters.
Moe was quick too. She’s changed from her loungewear to a pretty light blue walking dress and a burgundy cape on top of it.
Her hair, usually in a neat bun at her nape, is now flowing freely down her shoulders.
I stop in my tracks. Perhaps the thought exercise from before didn’t completely work since I feel the stirrings of desire take hold of me again.
Damn it! Why can’t my body obey me for once?
She gives me a shy smile and I all but spill in my pants, right then and there.
“You didn’t have to,” she murmurs. “But thank you. I’ve always wanted to see the Mesquine District.”
