“We are. Why, do you want me to take you to the small town nearby and let you stay in a hotel?”
“You would do that?” I gasp in surprise.
He smirks, giving me the answer and I should be upset but a part of me is relieved. Relieved about this whole forced proximity situation as ridiculous as that sounds. Maybe it’s because I don’t feel like my normal self out here. Instead I feel like I’m going to have to give the old Meadow the backseat if I’m going to survive.
The old Meadow would have a meltdown at the thought of being forced to stay here and she would have bickered and bitched at Dom, until he gave up and gave in. But the new Meadow, doesn’t dare to do anything like that.
I’m not stupid. I know I won’t last long out here for long without Dom. He’s my lifeline now, my security. But...he still has a damaged shoulder and I watch when he sits down on one of the chairs, ripping his shirt off and I let out a squeak.
His eyes sharply fly to mine and I want to die. What was that? I just sounded like a little mouse and you would think I’ve never seen a man with a bare chest before. Which by the way I have, although I have never really seen anyone who looks like Dom before.
There is nothing soft or lithe about him, his muscles the kind that could grab a girl like me and tear her in pieces, then mold her like clay until she is the way he wants her to be. And his skin is a deep bronzed color, like the sun and nature loves him.
“I need a nurse,” he rasps in his smoky voice, watching me with intent as if he wants to see if I’ll accept the challenge. I nod palely and his chin lifts, “What? I know you’re not squeamish.”
I’m not, but his wound isn’t the problem. I’m nervous about standing so close to him, touching him and I shiver when I realize that Dom has never ever touched me or I him. Even when he pulled the blanket over me in the car, he made sure not to let his fingers brush my body.
And now I’m supposed to get in his space and look after him while he’s hurt? On top of it we’re in a tiny cabin where nobody can find us, cocooned like it’s just the two of us left in the world. That’s so...intimate.
“First we have to clean the wound, I t...think,” I stutter, looking at him with wide eyes and the way he watches me reminds me of a wolf, who’s paw is stuck in a trap. Any second now, it feels like he could lunge at me and give me a thorough...
Lick.
With jerky movements, I take the cloth and rubbing alcohol that Dom brought out of one of the cupboards and I apply some alcohol on the cloth, moving it to Dom’s shoulder. “This is going to sting,” I say but he just grunts in response and when I press it against his wound, his teeth clench but he doesn’t complain.
I glance at him, disturbed by the way my body responds to his silent strength. And when he pushes his legs apart to give me better access, I step inside between them without hesitating. “Are you sure you can handle this?” I ask. “What if you get, what it’s called...skeptics something...?”
“You mean sepsis?” he finishes, raising a brow, then shrugs. “Doubt it. I would have to get an infection for that and judging by how good you’re cleaning me up, I think I’ll be fine.”
“Oh...” I murmur, “um, I’m just doing my best.”
His gaze meets mine as if to say, I know. And there’s gratitude in his eyes which makes me squirm a little because it seems only fair that I help him out since he saved my life. My heart knocks in my chest when I remember the look in his eyes when he saved me from those men.
Bloodthirst, violence and savagery dripped from his being, like he had turned into someone else. I thought he looked like a god who could pulverize the whole world between his fingers. He seemed so powerful, so focused and so intent on causing as much damage as possible.
It confused me because once when I had to accompany my father on one of his stupid campaigns, a man with a knife ran up to my dad, screaming something about toxic waste and he probably would have stabbed him, had Dom not been there.
He took care of it, quickly and efficiently. But he was neutral, worked with precision, operative but detached. There was no anger, no emotion. He was a completely different man when he saved me.
“But,” Dom adds, taking me out of my thoughts “if I get insomnia or start hallucinating, feel free to scream at the top of your lungs and run as far away from me as fast as you can.”
“Don’t even joke about that,” I say between my teeth, pressing the cloth a little harder, expecting him to hiss at least but I guess he’s not pretending to be hard-hitting. He just is. Silently cutting up some more cloth, I wrap it tightly around the shoulder with a thick padding as a buffer and I really hope this will help.
“Better?” I breathe and he stand up, towering over me and his chest is smattered with hair and he’s huge and suddenly I feel like I’m his shadow. He’s 6.4, overpowering and he doesn’t need to dominate me. He just does it anyway automatically.
“Better,” he rasps, lifting a hand and I don’t know what to do, so I just freeze, staring at him without blinking when he strokes his knuckles down the side of my throat. I feel that touch all over my body, like he suddenly just turned on some electricity that was lying dormant in me.
If he wants to, he could slide his hand lower, down my V-neck sweater, feel the rest of my skin but he doesn’t. Instead he walks past me and over to a small closet, taking out a checked shirt and a pair of denims and he kicks off his dress shoes.
Then without warning, he shoves his pants down and I abruptly turn away, yelping, “You should have told me you were undressing!”
“Why?” comes his natural answer. “There’s no room for shyness out here, trust me.”
My cheeks heat when I get a flash of his boxer briefs, sneakily wishing I’d get a peek of the front at least and I turn around, just a little, just to get a glance at the corner of my eye, only to notice that Dom is already dressed and holding out some rags for me.
“What’s that?” I ask suspiciously.
“Clothes. Put them on. Your own are soiled.”