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“I still need a proper wash. Plus, my leg is itching like a bitch.” She scrunches her hand up like she’s imagining getting under the pot with her fingernails.
“Sit in the bath and dangle your leg over the side. Then I’ll pass you the showerhead.”
She gives me a mischievous grin. “You know what they say about water pressure. It’s a good stimulant.” She winks at me.
“And this is why I didn’t want to do this.” I put my hands on my hips. Without the vision she just created, I would have struggled with this next part, and she made it so much harder.I’m just helping a friend,I chant in my head.
“Lighten up. I’m having a little fun with you. A shower in the bath sounds like a good idea.” She begins to strip before I have a chance to object, and I try to look anywhere but at her. She removes her bra, skirt, and then struggles to get her thong down over the pot. Swallowing my nerves or lust or whatever you want to call it, I take pity on her and reach down to give her a hand. The pot isn’t sexy. My nails grate against the hard material as I pull the thong down. The scrap of material, on the other hand, is alluring. I can’t help but glance up at her face. She’s looking down at me and my mouth goes dry. My hand strokes down her good leg, lingering around her ankle. She closes her eyes briefly. I clear my throat, pushing down thoughts of reaching up to touch more of her. She slips out of her underwear and I put them on the side.
We smile at each other and it warms my heart. We’re friends, and I can try to keep my mind from wandering into lustful territory. Getting her in the bath is the hard bit. Her arms wrap around my waist and her breast is snug against my chest. She uses me for support while she climbs into the tub. Slowly, she lowers herself down and swings her leg over the side. The pot thuds loudly against the plastic.
While undressing, I tried not to look at anything other than what I needed to. Now she’s sprawled out like an upside-down cat, it’s difficult to keep my eye level above her neck. She catches me looking at her hardened pink nipples. I’m a bad friend. Quickly, I glance away. I grab the strawberry body wash from the shelf and pass it to her before turning on the water. I rinse her down before giving her the shower head. What I really want to do is offer to soap her down, but I turn my back to her, hoping to get control of myself. I listen to the sound of the water and her movements, waiting for her to finish. She begins to sing a song about a rubber duck, and I can’t help the laughter that spills out of me. It lifts my mood, and I’m thankful for the distraction. She takes her time, and I find myself singing along.
“Okay, get me a towel,” she says eventually.
I do and switch off the water. She dabs her tummy and then sits up. Our eyes lock again and she licks her lips. I can’t help but watch. We stay frozen, staring for a few seconds. The hairs on her arms stand up and goose pimples spread across her skin. She shivers, breaking us out of the moment. I blink a few times, remembering I’m supposed to be helping. Together, we struggle to get her back to her feet. We wrap the towel around her and she climbs out. Walking with crutches and a tucked-in towel is problematic, though. It falls down before she reaches the bed, exposing her gorgeous butt. We both chuckle because this was hard work. I guess there’s nothing I haven’t seen now.
Once she’s settled on the bed, I leave her while I get my own wash. Let’s hope I can get the visions of my best friend naked in my tub out of my head.
CHAPTER12
MALLORY
A coupleof weeks have passed since my injury happened. Lara and I have got into a routine where her helping me no longer makes me feel weak. She no longer blushes when she sees me naked, and I’ve seen her in something less than a full neck-to-ankle outfit.
I’m the first to wake up for a change. Quietly, I go to the bathroom to pee before climbing back into bed. Lara’s got her back to me and her hands tucked under the pillow. Her chest rises and falls. I can hear her soft breathing, which is therapeutic. Shuffling across the bed, I get close enough to snuggle up to her. She smells so good. Her strawberry body wash is probably embedded in my skin now, but it smells better on her. I push my nose into her hair, letting the scent fill my nostrils. It’s so soft and beautiful. I run my fingers through the strands.
“What are you doing?” Lara asks, stirring from her sleep.
“Nothing,” I say, bringing my hand around her waist. I pat her hip before leaning in to get nearer to her.
“Oh, okay. This is nice. I could get used to getting a hug in the morning.” Her hand covers mine and she taps her thumb against my knuckles. After she saw me naked yesterday, I’ve felt closer to her, but also confused. We’ve hugged thousands of times, but this one feels a little awkward. Our relationship is stronger than ever yet it feels like we’re in uncertain territory.
“It’s better than being hit on the head by a cat.” I try to deflect from the tension.
“You like Moggy, and his wake-up call is just as good.”
The cat in question jumps on the bed, meowing loudly. “His love comes with clauses. He’s thinking about his stomach.”
She strokes under his chin. “You love me for more than my biscuits, don’t you, Moggy?” He purrs, taking her attention away from me.
I thought we were friends, Moggy!I’m beginning to understand the cat’s personality, and even though he has Lara wrapped around his finger, I see both sides of him. He likes a snuggle around naptime, but now he wants a full tummy and to be let outside.
It doesn’t take long for him to bend Lara to his will. “I’m going to make a coffee.” She shimmies off the bed and Moggy follows her downstairs.
The bed feels empty now I’ve lost my two friends. Pulling myself up, I get comfortable between the pillows. I load up my laptop and go to my blog to update my status.
Extreme relaxing isn’t possible when a cat cock blocks you. Feline lovers, how do you do it? Okay, so I wasn’t actually cock blocked. One, I don’t have a penis, and two, I’m not getting lucky. I’m still with the bestie and on target to be on my next adventure in four weeks.
I haven’t seen the doctor yet, but I’m hopeful. I’ll work hard with whatever physio he plans, and I’m determined to get my mobility back.
The replies come instantly.
Friends to lovers is the genre of a good book. Are you sure there’s nothing more between you?
Kill the cat, she’ll never know. :P
Don’t harm the cat. Instead, get a tuna stash.
