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He waited for me to catch up standing in my path on the trail. He chucked me gently on the chin, “I guess if I get my baby girl a sundae later she’ll do her best to keep up?” He winked. I was a goner. The smirk on his face blindsided me into tripping on a log.
“Smart ass.” I stopped mid-stride on the trail to scold him.
He glanced back in my direction. “Yeah, but I’m your smart ass. Now be careful.” He pointed toward the uneven terrain.
I shook my head rationalizing when I might have the golden opportunity to pop off and smack him. He was the worst and best sort of distraction for a dreamer like me. I spent the next ten minutes fantasizing about the ways I’d get even with him.
“Whit!” I screamed out his name inelegantly tripping over my stupid feet.
“Whoopsie Daisy!” He turned back for me quickly, just not quick enough to catch my fall as I landed much harder on the ground starting with my knee and then bruising the side of my butt in the process.
“Oww. Shit. Fuck. Oww.” I groaned trying to breathe the pain away.
“Are you all right?” His face froze in an equally horrified and concerned look.
The only answer I gave him began with a pained moan followed by a hiss when the sting of my injury penetrated my senses. Worry etched deeply in his face along with something that looked like regret for maybe teasing me a moment earlier.
“Damn.” I looked down to see torn skin and blood welling up to the surface. Ugh, I hated blood and it made me woozy. I was going to milk this for all it was worth. After all, I was bleeding and he dragged me out here.
“Ugh. Blood.” I couldn’t fake the woozy dizzy spell feeling it pulse at the wound site and bleed profusely.
“Sit still.” He kneeled down putting a rolled up shirt behind me.
“Oww, it stings.” I wiped away tears.
He carefully turned my leg, but stopped when I cried out.
“Shit, don’t move and let me look.” Whit dove right into Boy Scout mode tearing his backpack off his back. His muscled flexed and I fixated on how his body clenched as he rooted through the medical kit he carried.
“I am the worst klutz.”
“Not sure I can argue that one.” He looked up from hooded eyes attempting to joke and reassure me before he maneuvered the flesh around making me wince. “Damn you sliced your knee open real good. Stay still.” Whit rifled deeper in his backpack.
“It’s bleeding. Gross.” I hated the sight of blood, hence why I was not a pre-med major. I’d had enough with the biology classes in high school and stayed safely ensconced in the liberal arts.
“Bit of a gusher, but good thing I’ve got crazy glue and both peroxide and antiseptic.” He’s ripping off wrappers and uncapping a container that looked like it had seen better days.
“Whoa! Whoa there Boy Scout. I don’t know about glue.” I slapped his hands off my leg, but he grabbed my wrists holding them away from my knee. It looked like a chainsaw hacked into it from the little I peeked between my squinted eyes.
“I’ve got to clean it first you big baby. Remind me, are you allergic to anything?” I shake my head no. He grunted pulling out supplies and snapping on latex gloves.
“Gloves?” I’m wondering if he’s part mad scientist or if this is his thing. I didn’t have any medical doctor fantasies, but he got right into it bending his head over my leg and here I was having a near panic attack with racing lascivious thoughts of him kissing my wound and making his way between my legs dead center nipping along the way. Yeah, my knee wasn’t the only thing gushing and throbbing in sync with my heartbeat.
“Stop wiggling.”
I huffed. “Stop being stupid hot.”
“This is turning you on isn’t it?” He tried to not laugh and I motioned to kick him with my good leg. Pain zinged the longer air breezed over the cut.
I coughed and groused sarcastically. “I think blood play is where I draw the line.”
His eyes darted up, “Noted. I don’t want this wound to get infected.”
My face blushed hot and a chill wracked my body.
He ripped open an antiseptic pad warning me, “This is the worst part.”
“It’s gonna sting. It always stings.” My body tightened in resistance. I bit my lower lip anticipating the pain more than anything. Whit hadn’t touched me yet and I was ready to burst into to tears like a baby sniffling loudly and hiccupping to keep it contained.
