But I had to give her credit. She didn’t once quit.
And though it took her a good fifteen minutes longer than it should have to eat, she didn’t stop until the last noodle was slurped up.
“My father would’ve killed me if I ate like that in front of him,” she admitted.
“In some cultures, it’s acceptable to slurp your noodles. It actually shows that you enjoy your food,” I told her.
She looked at me with a look of wonder on her face.
A look that stayed there as I picked up her bowl and mine and returned them to the sink. Once they were washed and in the drying rack next to the sink, I walked back with a wet rag and wiped up the spots we were eating at before tossing it across the kitchen and into the sink.
“Now what?” she asked.
I gestured to my medications.
“Now I take those, some NyQuil, and pass the fuck out for eight hours,” I told her.
Her lip twitched at the corner.
“What about a cough suppressant?” she asked.
I pulled out the NyQuil from the cabinet over the sink and checked the label.
“It has one in it,” I said.
She helped me line my prescription bottles up and throw away the trash.
“You have to take all of these?” she asked in surprise.
“Yeah,” I said. “Steroid, antibiotic, and an asthma medication that I’ll drop off once I start feeling better.”
“Jesus.” She shook her head. “That’s a lot of meds.”
It was.
But I was used to it.
“If you want to go ahead and get into the bathroom and change—take a shower—I’d get on that. I fucked up and wired the lights to the bathroom to the lights in the bedroom,” I admitted.
Her lips formed into a small smile.
“Guess everyone’s not perfect,” she said.
“Actually,” I shook my head. “It was my idea. The electrician advised me against it, but I saw no reason not to have the two connected. It was only as I was thinking on it later that I decided that it probably wasn’t the best idea.”
She shrugged. “Oh, well.”
Oh well was right.
When she disappeared into the bathroom and took a quick shower, I took a shot of NyQuil straight from the bottle, dosed myself on the rest of my medications, collected my clothes to change into and waited for her to come out.
It took a lot not to collapse onto the bed and go straight to sleep.
But I was glad that I was sitting where I was when she came out in what I originally thought was only a t-shirt.
I nearly swallowed my tongue and felt things lower start to stir at the sight.
She was wearing a plain white t-shirt. Her hair was down and wet around her shoulders in a tangled mess, and she looked all wet and pink from the shower.
“I forgot my brush,” she said as she brought the hem of her t-shirt up and wiped away a droplet of water that ran down her forehead.
I looked down at her lower half and groaned when I saw the short shorts that were covering her ass.
“I have one in the cabinet in there,” I said.
She immediately turned around, giving me a great view of her ass.
And her panty lines.
She was wearing those cheeky underwear that went up over the curve of her ass. And the shorts were so tight on her butt that I could see the little lace indentions of her underwear.
My dick got harder.Chapter 10
Read books and do squats. Grow your mind and butt.
-Coffee Cup
Royal
When I made it back into the bathroom for the brush, I was hyperventilating.
There was no way in hell I was going to be able to sleep next to that man tonight.
I’d been having a hard time since I’d gotten onto the back of his bike, but seeing the look on his face as I’d walked out of the bathroom? Yeah, it was almost impossible for me to ignore that.
I felt a presence with me in the bathroom, and I looked up into the mirror to find him walking inside.
The bathroom wasn’t small, per se, but it also wasn’t big enough for two—at least not when it came to Justice’s shoulders.
But he came inside anyway and walked over to the shower, reaching inside with one hand and cranking it on with a flick of his fingers.
He didn’t turn it on low like I expected, either. He turned it on high.
“You like your water hotter than hell, too?” I asked curiously.
He turned and set his clothes down on the back of the toilet. “I like it on normal temperatures when I’m not sick.”
My lips curved up into a smile.
“That’s understandable,” I said. “I just haven’t seen a man that enjoys it that hot.”
I loved it hot. The hotter, the better, actually.
“I don’t think many do,” he said. “It feels like it’s melting my skin off.”