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“You’re staring,” he lies flat on his back. “It’s distracting.”
Eye roll. “You’re poorly, just shut your eyes.” Or not, maybe I can keep him awake. That would be selfish though.
“Stop staring.”
I’m making sure you’re still breathing.
“Okay, sorry,” I mutter and fluff up the pillows where the towels were moments before. I lean back against them, cringing at the heat coming from him. He’s ill. That’s for sure. “Maybe I should call a doctor?”
He doesn’t respond. Why isn’t he responding?
Okay, I can hear him breathing. He’s sleeping that’s all.
My twisted mind is relieved when he starts shivering after twenty minutes or so. It’s a sign he’s okay. Sick as a dog but still alive. That’s good.
I should leave, why am I sat here? I just can’t bring myself to leave.
Just another half an hour, I’m overreacting, he’ll be fine.
His short breath becomes slow and steady after forty minutes. I relax minutely until I hear him take a shuddering one. What is wrong with me? He’s fine!
But just in case he isn’t, I should check his pulse.
My two fingers almost sizzle against his skin, that’s how warm he is. The feel of his artery pumping against my fingers does little to soothe my inner turmoil.
I should call a doctor.
I’ll do it in the morning.
But what if he’s not here in the morning? I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.
I stare at his peaceful face in the dark and gently move his hair from his brow. His hair is amazingly soft. Not like Caleb’s, his was great but it resembled the feel of knotted silk. With Nathan’s my fingers just slide straight through. He conditions.
I move my hand down to his chest and savour the feel of his heartbeat. I want to hear it. Is that weird? Probably.
He’s too out of it to care.
Shuffling down the bed, I move my hair to my opposite shoulder and place my cheek on his chest. His chest is solid yet soft, with only a light dusting of hair. It’s a nice chest. He doesn’t move and his breathing remains steady so I know I haven’t disturbed him.
Thump, thump, thump, thump.
Blowing out a soft sigh of grief and relief, I curl my legs and rest my arm across his abdomen, my hand fisting near my mouth.
I don’t want to move from this spot. I will in a second.
Just a minute or two.
Chapter Nineteen
So warm. Too warm.
Why’s my back damp?
Hot breath tickles my neck as I blink the sleep from my eyes and scan my surroundings. This isn’t my room.
An arm tightens around my waist and a soft male groan accompanies the movement. The air rushes from my lungs as I realise where I am and what I’m doing. I’m spooning with Nathan.
I’m spooning with Nathan who is roasting hot and covered in a thin layer of sweat. Why doesn’t this gross me out? Maybe because I’m relieved to see that he’s alive.
“Nathan?” I say and try to roll onto my back but his arm holds me even tighter, I feel his nose against my neck and his forehead against my ear. His leg locks between mine, his thigh sliding so high I can feel the heat against a place I shouldn’t. “Nathan?”
“Umm,” he hums against my neck, sending a tremble through my entire body.
“Are you okay?”
His only answer is to run his nose up and down the back of my neck. Fingers that were wrapped around my ribs, trail over the swell of my stomach before flattening directly below it. Gasp. His hand is far too close to my… oh god. He didn’t…
“Gwen,” he mumbles and I feel him grind himself against my arse. My mouth drops open, I’m frozen on the spot. What’s happening? Well, whatever is happening there’s now solid evidence of it pressed against my arse.
“Oh my god,” I mime, not making noise when in reality I should be running and screaming.
I feel him tense behind me and squeeze my eyes shut. It takes everything in me to relax my breathing and my face. “Gwen?” I’m shocked when he doesn’t instantly move his clearly throbbing, well-endowed length from my backside. Instead he moves his arm back to its original spot above my stomach and collapses back onto the pillow with a groan. “I know you’re awake.”
Oh shit. I still feign sleep.
“I should move away but…” he snuggles in tighter. Gulp. “Your warmth is comforting.” And your warmth is disorienting and scalding.
He lifts up again and leans over me, pressing me deeper into the mattress. His groin still hasn’t left my arse, if anything it’s pressing harder as he reaches for the water bottle on the bedside table.
I gasp when he grinds once, then twice and quickly shift away from him, only to meet a boyish smile I’ve never seen on his face before. “What’s wrong Gwen?”
