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Landon squeezes my hand and then leans his head on my shoulder. “Oh, well, that’s okay. We’ll just have to give you extra hugs to make up for it.”
And when he looks up at me with that warm smile and those fucking eyes, my heart melts.
Oh. Shit.
six
LANDON
I flop onto the bed,full and exhausted from our outing earlier. My dad, like usual, wrangled us into helping him load all of his shit into his van once the market was over. I managed to persuade Finn to take me out to lunch after. I was hungry and ate way too much. Now I’m stuffed and tired, and my leg kind of aches, if I’m honest. Not that I’ll tell Finn that because he’ll just worry.
“Your leg hurts, huh?” Finn says and I lean up a little so he can see my full eye roll. I really want him to get a good look.
“Stop reading my mind, Finn. That shit is creepy.”
He leans forward and starts to unbutton my pants, and I just flop back down and let him undress me.
He probably wants to examine my residual limb and make sure it’s not bruised—like he could do anything about it if it was. But he just likes to worry about me. He has a crease between his eyes that’s only gotten deeper since the accident. Sometimes I press my finger against it, willing it to go away.
“Grab that lotion I got and rub it on me,” I tease as he gently removes my prosthetic and lifts my leg a little, his eyes focused on the end.
“It’s a little red. You overdid it today.”
“I’mfine,” I say as he rubs his fingers gently over it and my nerve endings light up from his touch.
He gently sets my leg back down as I say, “That lotion is supposed to help with inflammation. Do it, Finn. Make me all better. I know you want to.”
He grumbles a little under his breath. “You’re a little shit, you know that?”
I smirk when I hear the rustle of the bag and then Finn tosses the bottle of lotion on the bed next to me.
“If I do this, you don’t tell anyone. And I’m only putting this on your legs. Got it?”
I snort and then lean up and tug off my shirt, leaving me in only my blue boxers. Life is so much better when you’re naked.
“Boxers off,” I say, and arch my hips up.
“Hell no.”
I chuckle and then just starfish myself across the mattress.
“You’re not supposed to say no to me. Need I remind you? I only have one leg. Feel sorry for me, Finn.”
“Feel sorry, my ass,” he grumps and then squirts a liberal amount of lotion into his hand, rubbing it together with his palms, and then presses his big hands into the muscles of my thigh.
I sigh emphatically as he works it into my skin, massaging my sore muscles. God, I love when he touches me like this. Like he owns me.
I groan as he works up my inner thighs and my dick thickens a little from the sensation. His fingers glide up under the hem of my boxers as he massages my groin and damn, that feelsgood. He’s never done that before and I fucking like it.
“Ugh. Just take my boxers off and rub that shit on my dick. It’s still upset about earlier,” I tease, and Finn’s hands freeze.
“Like hell,” he mutters, removing his hands, and I feel the absence acutely. Shouldn’t have teased him about that, I guess. I could be having my groin massaged if I’d kept my mouth shut.
My eyes pop open and I stare at my best friend who is watching me with flushed cheeks and a scowl.
“Please. Don’t stop,” I say, feeling like a puddle of goo and wanting this to continue for a little longer. A few more hours should be enough.
Don’t stop, Finn. Make me feel good.
