I almost convince myself that the bath is over when I carry the basins back to the bathroom, but I know I’m making this personal when it’s nothing more than medical help that’s necessary. Maybe I should’ve asked one of the guys to come in and help me, but I know it will be just as awkward with another person in here watching me wash this man’s junk—I mean genital area.
I fill the basins half full, one with soap and one with clean water to rinse and grab another towel to dry him, then carry the basins back out one by one. Chickening out, I run back into the bathroom and grab one more towel. I don’t know who does laundry around here, but they’re probably going to hate me after this.
I place the extra towel over his middle. Pulling the one from his stomach up and the ones covering his legs down.
“Maintain his dignity,” I mutter as I make sure the towel covering his middle doesn’t slip.
If I were at work, I’d be more hands on than this. You really need to see what you’re doing to make sure you get everything clean, but I just can’t. This man isn’t comatose and he sure as hell hasn’t given me permission to do this.
I take a step back. Is this considered a violation? I’ve touched him way more than he ever touched me.
I swallow, pausing for another minute before recommitting.
“Just one little area left, and you’ll be done.”
I put on a clean pair of gloves, praying that he doesn’t have any cuts in the covered area because I don’t plan to look to verify. After squeezing the soapy wash rag, I lift the cover of the towel enough to slide my hand between it and his body, and I clean, my eyes clamping closed as I work, making sure to get the entire area.
“Shit,” I hiss when I feel him start to grow against my wrist.
“It happens, Cara. Just hurry.”
Why the hell am I talking to myself?
I’ve heard even men in comas get erections when stimulated, so I shouldn’t be bothered.
Once the washing is done, I toss the rag back in the soapy water and grab the one to rinse him with. When I slip my hand under to wipe away the soap, I keep my eyes on his face rather than the bulge growing under the towel.
His lips part, and then his fucking eyes open. I’m frozen with my hand clasping a damp towel that’s pressed against his scrotum.
“It’s a bed bath.” He gives me a little nod of understanding, then I notice that his eyes don’t look tired. If anything, they are brighter than they’ve been since he showed up here. “How long have you been awake?”
His throat works on a swallow. “Since you washed my face.”
“I started on your face.”
His lips twitch like he wants to smile. “Your hand is still on my nuts.”
“Oh, God!” I jerk my hand back, pulling the towel away with it. His entire penis is exposed… and fully erect from the looks of it. “Shit! I’m so sorry!”
I rush to cover him back up, ignoring the husky laugh that rumbles out of his throat.
“I just—you were covered in blood, and you have so many wounds. I was worried about infection.” He looks up at me. “I’m a nurse’s aide. I’ve literally been trained to do this. I wasn’t trying to take advantage. I’m—”
“Cara, it’s fine. I enjoyed it.”
“Did you just wink at me?”
“I tried. Did it not translate?”
“Not really,” I say, dropping the rinsing rag back into the basin. “The swelling in your face is still pretty bad.”
“What now?” he asks when I grab the rag out of the soapy basin.
“Only one area left to clean.”
“You washed everything but my—No, Cara. No way. I can admit that I thoroughly enjoyed everything you’ve done for me so far, but I draw the line at you washing my ass.”
I roll my lips between my teeth to keep from smiling, wondering just when I was able to look at this man and not fear him with every inch of my being.
Maybe it was when I woke that first time and saw his arm stretched in my direction or maybe it was the thirty minutes we spent watching each other without speaking. No matter when it happened, I’m kind of grateful that it did.
“I wasn’t able to get your back either. I’m not strong enough to roll you over, hold you there, and wash at the same time. And I’m sorry about that.” I tilt my head in the direction of his crotch without actually turning my focus to it.
“Are you apologizing because I got a hard-on?”
“I didn’t intend to stimulate your penis. I just—”
“Penis?”
“Or your scrotum. But it happens when—”
“Scrotum? Oh God, and here I was fantasizing that you—” He snaps his jaw closed. “Sorry. I wasn’t—I shouldn’t have said—can we just drop it? I appreciate your concern for getting me clean.”