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That voice. It sends a shock wave of pleasure through my system, making me forget the agony that I am in for a moment. Why am I reacting this way to him? I don’t even need to open my eyes to know that it’s my neighbor. His voice and my reaction to it are enough.
I slowly open my eyes, and above me are the most beautiful green eyes I have ever seen in my life. They have specks of gold mixed in. They’re stunning. He gives a slight smile before reaching for my head. I feel his fingers trace around my skull, and the pressure may be light, but the lightning bolts that pass between us aren’t. They’re powerful, and I don’t want them to stop, but all too soon, he takes his hands off my head.
“I don’t feel any bumps on your head. Did you hit your head? Where do you hurt?”
The concern in his voice is unmistakable. For a moment, I don’t answer him because I thought that it would be obvious, given what happened to me earlier, but then I remembered that Cowboy only hit me in my torso. My pain isn’t evident.
“I…I…hurt…everywhere but my,” I take as deep of a breath as I can, “my ribs. I hit my ribs.”
His eyes soften as they roam over my body. The electricity that I felt when he was touching me, I feel again now. Something is happening, and I don’t know how to explain any of it.
“Do you think if I help push you up, you can sit, and we’ll work together to get you off the ground?”
I want to tell him no. I want to tell him that I don’t need his help—that I can do this by myself. I didn’t need Zombie. Why would I need him? But I can’t deny that deep down, my pride stepped aside, and I want him to help me. It was almost like I needed it, but that couldn’t be right. I’ve never needed someone’s help—not for a long time. Why would I need it now? But want it? Yeah, I definitely wanted it. I wanted to feel his hands on me again and feel the lightning course through my body.
What’s happening?
His hand goes to my back as I start to shift myself into a sitting position. Once there. His hand applies pressure to my back, and I feel like my body is on fire. Once I am sitting, he removes his hand and then puts himself in front of me. His hands grab mine, and the burning sensation overloads me, but I don’t want it to stop. I want to keep this feeling.
“Grip my hands as hard as you can, and then on three, we lift up, okay? One…. Two…. Three”
I use my legs to get myself up at the same time that he pulls me toward him. I fall into his chest, and I feel him stumble back. He catches himself immediately, and we stay standing. He somehow manages to turn me around, and when I realize that I only have one step to go, I become completely embarrassed. He doesn’t say anything, though. He just leads me to his open front door.
“Let’s get you some water and pain meds.”
“I’ve already had some. I can’t take any more for a while.”
I feel like I should be worried that he is dragging me into his apartment, but the truth is, I can’t seem to care. I want to see what lies behind that door for me.
CHAPTER THREE
Walking into his apartment, I’m hit with a scent that I can only assume is his. My body melts. I am completely entrapped by the scent surrounding my body. I want to rub myself against him, against his walls, furniture, anything, to get the scent trapped on my skin. It’s intoxicating, and I am already addicted.
He leads me to his couch and has me sit. As he heads over to his small kitchen area, I look around and notice that the place is very sparsely decorated. From what I can see, there is nothing personal, nothing that makes it a home. It’s almost like he just moved in. I want to ask him, but when I take a deep breath, the scent that I am already obsessed with envelops me, and I lean back into the couch. I inhale as hard as I can, and my ribs protest, but I don’t care. I want this tattooed into my lungs. I want to carry this with me always.
I…what?!
I don’t have the strength to fight this right now. I know it’s something new and different, but I am too consumed by my other senses being on overload that I don’t want to take the time to dissect why. I continue to breathe and bring more of this mysterious man into my lungs.
Something about this man has awoken my body in a way like no other before. Damn it. I didn’t want to think about it, but now I can’t help it. I don’t even know his name, yet he’s trapped my mind in to only thinking about him. He’s somehow tricked my senses into being obsessed with him and the way he smells. I can only imagine how he tastes.
I get lost in thought for a moment before I feel the couch dip next to me. I turn my head and open my eyes. His face is soft, and that salt and pepper hair and beard scream for me to run my fingers through both. I swallow, and I catch his eyes drop to my Adam’s apple, watching it bob. He clears his throat and then hands me a cup.
“Here. Since you said you already had meds, I wanted to give you something to help. It’s green tea. It’s supposed to help with the pain and any swelling. I put some honey in it.”
“Thank you,” I say and reach for the cup. When our fingers touch, every nerve in my hand goes haywire. So this wasn’t just a weird thing that happened outside. This is truly my body reacting to him. My body is screaming that it wants this man.
My dick doesn’t give a single fuck that I don’t know his name.
“You’re welcome.” he smiles and gets up. I have no idea where he’s going, and I don’t dwell on it as I take a drink of the tea he’s given me. It’s only about a minute before he comes back, holding a tube in his hand. He sits back down, and I move to put my cup on the small table he has, but the stretch causes me to wince, and he grabs it out of my hand, placing it down for me.
“This is—”
“What is—”
We both attempt to talk at the same time, and I can’t help but let out a small chuckle. “You go first,” I tell him.
“This is arnica cream. It’ll help with any bruising. I figured since you landed on your ribs and from the scream you let out, you’re probably going to be black and blue. This will help.”
