He needs juice, and I need a cold shower.
Setting the bottle aside, I extend the glass in offer. “I got bread, too. I’ll make you some toast.”
He sits up and accepts the juice with a cursory sniff. “Are you hungry?”
“No.” I pick up the bag with bread and butter, and turn in search of a toaster. “Not hungry.”
Swallowing the juice much slower than I did, he nods and watches me move about, but as I pass by, he sets the glass on the bedside table and throws an arm out. Snagging me around the hips, he pulls me between his legs and looks up into my eyes. “Did you sleep last night?”
When the backs of my eyes itch, I shake my head and look at the ceiling to combat the treacherous tears. “No. I’ll sleep later.”
“And you’re not hungry?”
“No.” Memories continue to batter at my brain. Blue lips. Heaving chest. Seizures.
“Do you have to pee?”
I lower my eyes and meet his. “No.”
“Alright.” Snapping the button on my jeans, he yanks them down my hips before I can form a response. Or hit him. Or shoot him. He taps my thigh and helps me step out of the denim, then stands and peels my top up and tosses it aside. “Sleep with me, beautiful.”
“Kane…”
“Real sleep.” Chuckling, he hooks me around the waist and pulls me to the bed. Helping me between the sheets, he climbs in behind me so our naked legs tangle and his belly touches my back. Before pulling the covers over us, he moves up onto his elbow and studies my healing ribs. “These look good. You’re out of the woods. Did you put cream on them yet?”
I shake my head.
With a crooked grin, he drops a kiss on the flesh just below my bra. “Sleep now, baby. We’ll dress our wounds later.”
“We can’t sleep, Kane. We’ve gotta–”
“Can’t fight a war if we’re weak. Gotta be strong. That means sleep when we’re tired, and eat when we’re hungry. You aren’t hungry. I’m not hungry. So we sleep.” Tucking me under his arm, he curves his legs around mine and rests his palm between my breasts. “Sleep, baby. You saved my life. Your debt is repaid.”