It took forever for the violent paroxysms to end, and she leaned back against him, limp and sobbing.
“Feel better?” he asked, stroking her hair back from her damp cheeks.
She shook her head. “No.”
“Okay, let’s get you some aspirin and then into bed.”
She groaned, in what he assumed was assent. He helped her to her feet and assisted her up the broad staircase that led to the bedrooms.
He hadn’t ever been in her bedroom, but he was familiar with the layout of the apartment and knew which room was hers.
It was pink.
So fucking pink.
He might not know what was refined and tasteful, but he was pretty sure this ridiculous explosion of pink on pink was not it. In fact, Ty would go so far as to venture that her room was a crime against color and good taste.
He cast another appalled look around and shook his head, as if to somehow dislodge the image from his field of vision.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” The question was an aghast whisper.
This room was every pre-teen girl’s dream. Complete with a white four-poster princess bed that was surrounded by gauzy white drapes. He shook his head again and stared at the drooping woman whom he had scooped into his arms once it became apparent that she would not make it up the stairs under her own steam. She had never struck him as particularly girlie before. Feminine, yes and, well, she really loved flowers. But that was her job, nothing about her hinted at all of this frippery. It was literally the only word he could think of to describe this room. A word his grandfather had been particularly fond of, and it perfectly encapsulated the saccharine awfulness of Vicki’s bedroom.
So much female frippery.
He hurriedly lay her down on the ridiculous bed, and then stared at her limp, sprawling body, a concerned frown wrinkling his brow. Her sparkly skirt had ridden up to reveal the lace covered mound at the apex of her pale, slender thighs.
He was staring.
He should stop staring.
But damn it, it was hard not to when he could see the dark landing strip beneath the near translucent fabric of her pretty white panties. He should cover her up. But she was safe here, nobody would see her. Still, he didn’t like leaving her like this. So open. Unguarded.
He hated seeing her so defenseless. She was his responsibility. It was his job to ensure that she was never vulnerable. Not even to him.
He cast his eyes around the room, hoping to find a blanket to toss over her as she was sprawled across her quilt. And the thought of touching her again, moving her to gain access to said quilt, wasn’t particularly appealing. He could wake her. But what if she became difficult and argumentative? Worse, what if she felt ill again?
What if he found his hands wanting to linger on the incredible softness of her skin?
Snap out of it, Ty! What the fuck?
No, the best thing right now was to keep his hands to himself. He shrugged out of his jacket, his intention to cover her with it, and took a step toward her. But his foot became entangled in the gauzy drapery pooled on the floor, and he lost his balance and tripped. Landing on top Vicki’s supine body.
Fortunately, he caught himself on his elbows and broke his fall just enough to keep the full force of his weight off her.
His jacket was sandwiched between them, but he could still feel the firm mounds of her small breasts against his chest. One of his thighs had landed between hers, and he pulled his other knee up onto the bed in an effort to regain his balance.
Great, now he had one of her firm thighs sandwiched between his. He wasn’t doing himself any favors here. She moaned and shifted beneath him, and he froze. Fuck, how the hell would he explain it, if she woke up and found him on top of her like this? With a rapidly growing hard-on?
Yeah, there was no justification for it. Not when he couldn’t quite explain it to himself. He wasn’t attracted to her, it was just a primitive physical reaction to her heat, and closeness, and softness…And the fragrance of her coconut and lime shampoo, in addition to the vanilla and almond undertones of her understated perfume.
She smelled like dessert…
And Ty was partial to sweet things.
He flattened his hands on the mattress on either side of Vicki’s shoulders and levered himself up. It would be best all round if he, and his damned inconvenient erection, vacated the premises immediately.
He was off her in seconds. Hating that the scent of her shampoo, and perfume, as well as the sensual unique fragrance of her lingered in his nostrils even after he had put some distance between them. He could still feel the pert thrust of her breasts against his chest, and the tautness of her thigh between his. And worst of all, there was the recollection of the feminine heat of her clamped against his thigh. He had felt the clench of her womanhood, as she had unconsciously thrust herself against the hardness of his leg, and he gritted his teeth as he fought to regain his equilibrium. To forget the intimate details he now knew about her.