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He confirmed that the haziness in my brain was normal. As would headaches for the next couple of days. Minor confusion or memory loss, especially regarding the incident, could be expected as well. If I began to vomit, lose my vision, or my symptoms lasted more than three days, I was to report back to the hospital immediately.
After all the paperwork was signed and my discharge was processed, Dom drove me home. He spoke to me quietly, and didn’t ask me questions beyond, “are you buckled?” and “are you hungry?”
I answered yes to the first one, and no to the second. My lack of appetite concerned him, and he was afraid my concussion was more severe than the doctors were aware of. I didn’t know how to explain to him that other than a minor ache at the center of my head, a little dizziness, and the cut beginning to itch, I was physically fine. I had no appetite because my anxiety was through the fucking roof. There was nothing he could do to make it better, though. So I figured there was no point in telling him.
He entered the apartment before I did, stepping through the dark room and turning on a lamp rather than the overhead light. “Come sit down on the couch while I get things ready for you.” He walked back over to me and took my hand, gently leading me into the dimly lit living room.
I sunk into the couch, feeling like I should ask him what he meant by ‘get things ready’ but feeling too exhausted, too anxious, and too drained to actually care. As soon as Dom disappeared down the hall, I fell back on the couch and closed my eyes.
He’s a big man. He could carry me to bed if I fell asleep here.
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed before I heard that silky laugh from somewhere above me. Warm, strong arms gripped my shoulders. “C’mon, Mace. I’ve got the bath running for you.”
I shook my head as he lifted me into a sitting position. “Dom, I just want–”
“You’ve got blood on your clothes and in your hair, Mace. Let’s get you cleaned up before we put you to bed, yeah?”
I sighed. “I honestly don’t care.”
He scooped me up bridal style and whisked me off to the bathroom. I fought the urge to demand he set me down and let me walk myself. But honestly, it felt nice to be carried by a body so strong and warm, and I was too tired to care if I looked weak.
I squinted my eyes shut in anticipation of the bright light, yet no such blindness occurred. The smell of essential oils overwhelmed my senses, and I peeked an eye open to find him standing at the doorway to my bathroom, the sound of water running in the tub. No lights were on, but an abundance of candles were lit around the sink and edge of the nearly-full bath.
His chest rumbled against me as he said, “Seeing blood all over you is enraging. I cannot stand the sight of it. Makes me want to hit someone.” A small gasp escaped me at his admission. “I’ll make it quick, but please let me clean you up.”
He set me down on my feet slowly, and I only wobbled slightly, gripping his forearm to steady myself. “You’re not going to do anything. I can bathe myself,” I grumbled.
Carrying me down the hall was one thing, butbathingme? I couldn’t allow myself to admit how nice that actually sounded.
His mouth twitched. “You’ve got to be careful with that cut, Mace, or it’ll get infected. Doctor’s orders.” He shrugged. “You’ve got no choice but to let me wash you, I’m afraid.”
I flicked my brow at him and nodded toward the candle-lit bath I now noticed was also filled with bubbles. “I’m not sure it’s the smartest idea to attempt to seduce me while I’m concussed.”
He trailed his hand down my arm until he reached my hip. “First of all, I’m not trying to seduce you. I’m trying to take care of you.” His fingers inched beneath the fabric of my top. “Secondly, I’m fairly certain if I wanted to get you naked for any sort of nefarious reason, I know exactly how to. I’ve done it before.” He began to lift his hand across my rib cage, bringing my clothing with it. He leaned in slightly, his breath hitting just above my ear. “Speaking of, I’ve already seen you naked, baby girl. And while I fucking love what I see, right now all I want to do is help you wash this shitty day away, and make sure you don’t get hurt anymore than you already are. Can you let me do that?”
All of the breath left my lungs, and I couldn’t even attempt to form a response. My body shuddered at his touch, the feeling of his bare skin on my own. His fingers paused against my ribs, awaiting my permission. I believed that he wasn’ttryingto seduce me. The problem was that he didn’t even need to try.
Once my body re-learned how to intake oxygen, I whispered, “That’s not true.” He pulled back, leaving his hand where it had been resting, and blinked at me. “You haven’t seen my boobs yet.”
His eyes widened, glistening brightly as his head fell back and he let out a laugh.
Oh, shit. I saidyet. I just insinuated that I do, indeed, have intentions for him to see my boobs at some point. “I’m concussed,” I blurted in some sort of self defense.
He only laughed harder. “Okay, fine. Leave your bra and panties on, but I’m giving you a bath and making sure we get your hair washed without worsening that cut.”
“Okay,” I drawed, thankful he didn’t acknowledge the slip up. “But you should know that I didn’t expect anyone to be seeing me naked today, so I’m not wearing my good undergarments.”
“You can save those for me later, then,” he chuckled as he dipped both hands beneath my top and pulled it over my head, dropping it to the floor beneath us. He let his eyes roam across my upper body briefly before they met my face. “Still beautiful.”
I couldn’t help the blush that warmed my cheeks.
Okay, truth be told, I didn’t own a bra thatwasn’tgood. I lived for push-ups, lace, and matching sets. I was rarely organized about anything, but my underwear and my bra always were. I didn’t feel myself if they didn’t. As Dom let his gaze fall to my chest one more time—just briefly—I could see the question in his eyes:If this isn’t your good set, what is?
I had on a black, lace, bralette that ended just at my rib cage. The netting along the straps and my waist was sheer, only two small solid black cups covering my nipples. My underwear was black silk, with a matching lace trim, something Dom soon realized as he helped me slip off my jeans. He was crouched onto the floor, one hand around the waistband of my pants while the other held me steady at my hips, assisting me as I stepped out of them. He threw them to the side and stood up slowly.
He swallowed hard as he took me in. I chalked it up to my concussion haze, but it seemed like he may have been panting a little. “I…” He cleared his throat. “I…um…I lit the candles because I thought the light might irritate you. There was essential oil under the sink. Eucalyptus to help destress, lavender to help you sleep.”
I smiled. “Why the bath, though?”
