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I lie there confused.
What just happened?
My back is aching at a whole new level of pain.
I don’t even want to move—that’s how much it hurts. I hear footsteps, but my face is smushed into the pillow, and I’m too sore to shift my head to see who it is.
“Fucking hell,” Kyson says before I feel his hands on me, then something cold settles on my back. The relief is slight and not enough. I hear his footsteps retreat, and he’s gone for a minute before he’s back again and says, “You need to move to take these.”
“I don’t want to,” I whine.
“You move on your own, or I move you.” I know he means it, so I shift slowly until I’m on my side. The sheet that he threw over me is still slightly covering me, and the ice pack has fallen to the side, but I can still feel it against my back. “Take these. They will help the pain and inflammation.” He holds out a couple of tablets as well as a glass of water.
“I can’t take tablets,” I tell him.
“What do you mean? I’ve watched you drink. You have no problem with swallowing things that aren’t good for you.”
“I can’t take them. They don’t go down, and then I throw up.”
He places the water on the bedside table as he grips the tablets. “Fucking hell,” he mutters before he stomps out of the room. I stay where I am, unsure of what to do.
Kyson comes back a few minutes later with a spoon and a bottle of honey. “Open,” he commands. I look at him, confused. “You said you can’t take tablets. I Googled how to make it easier. Honey and crushed tablets work, so open.” I do as he says, and he slides the spoon into my mouth, then he pulls it back out, and I swallow. He hands me the water, and I manage to take a sip before he takes it away. “I have to work, so roll back over,” he instructs me.
“You can go to work. I need to pee,” I inform him.
“How do you expect to do that? You can hardly move as it is,” he grumbles, and I hide the smile that wants to appear as he looks me up and down.
“I’ll figure it out.”
“Fucking hell,” he mutters again.
“That must be your favorite phrase,” I tease.
“Only with you,” he says. Then he moves to the other side of the bed, and I feel him remove the sheet and place his hands under my knees. “Lift slightly, I’m turning you.” I do as he says so my back won’t get dragged against the mattress. When my legs are dangling from the bed, he reaches over me, ignoring my still-exposed tits. Instead, he places a hand behind my head and gently helps me up without touching my back but relieving all the pressure from it at the same time.
“You should put on a nurse’s outfit… It would look cute.”
“I can drop you,” he utters, and I can’t help the small laugh that leaves me. But I regret it right away because it hurts, and I stop to wince. “Just shut the fuck up,” he says, offering me his arm. “And stand so you can piss, and I can leave. You stink of alcohol.”
“I’d like a sponge bath if you’re offering.”
“And I’d like you to suck my cock just so you’ll shut up, but hey, this is where we’re at.”
“Maybe when I’m better, but only if it’s pretty. Some men have really ugly dicks.”
He mutters something under his breath, and I don’t pay him attention as we hobble to the bathroom. He places one of my hands on the wall, stands in front of me, and tears off my G-string. I watch in shock as it falls to the floor.
“I have a handsome cock, and you need new underwear,” he says, walking out.
I sit down and pee, and damn, it feels good. As soon as I’m done, he comes back in holding a shirt. He gives me a slight nod to indicate for me to lift my arms.
“What are you doing with me?” I ask.
“Dressing you because you are hopeless.”
“How old are you?” I ask.
Kyson gets the shirt over my arms and head, then pulls it over my breasts until it covers my torso. He steps back and looks down at me; a part of me wants to cover myself but the other part says fuck it. Here is this man, that somehow, even in all the pain I am in, I can somehow still feel my stomach flutter when he touches me, and I hate it.
