She gives me another nod, this one more urgent. I get up and gather the alcohol swabs and a Band-Aid. I’ve had so many IVs and given a few myself, so removing hers is nothing. She doesn’t even flinch as I clean the tiny puncture wound and place the waterproof bandage over it.
“How are you feeling?” I ask, needing something to focus on besides the creamy pink of her inner thighs.
“Fine. But I feel kind of gross. I want to take a shower.”
“I’ve been giving you sponge baths since I brought you here, but taking a bath would be good. You don’t have any open wounds now, and if you soak in some Epsom salt, it will help bring down some of your bruising.”
I look up to find her smiling at me. No guile, no subterfuge, nothing but pure light. And damn, how I’m going to take it for myself. “How do you know that? About soaking in the salt, I mean.”
“You met me at the casino when we had a fight. You’re too young to know that I used to be a fighter. My father thought it would help beef me up.”
She raises an eyebrow at that, pointedly staring at my shoulders and arms.
“This was when I was nothing more than a kid. I hadn’t hit my growth spurt, nor had I taken up lifting yet.”
I secure the IV so it doesn’t leak, and then come around the bed to scoop her up into my arms. She wraps her hands around my neck. The bandages scratch against my skin, but I don’t care, not with so much of her body against mine.
She weighs nothing as I carry her to the bathroom, and I worry she won’t be able to handle me. I’m not giving her up, but I’ll have to be gentle, careful with her so I don’t hurt her. Even more so than I usually try to be with women.
I set her gently on the marble surround of the tub and turn on the water. Then I dig out the Epsom salt, pour in a generous amount, and turn to her. Her cheeks are flaming pink, and it hits me that she’s embarrassed.
I brush her fumbling fingers aside, then quickly unhook the buttons down the shirt and peel it off her shoulders. With equal practicality, despite the hard-on digging against my fly, I gently unwind the gauze from her wrists and ankles to find the skin is still bright pink. Seeing the bruises from the ropes cools the heat in my blood enough for me to focus on her.
She stares down at her wrists and gently touches her left one. I can tell she wants to know what happened, but she’s not brave enough to ask yet. Until she is, she won’t be able to handle it, nor what I’m going to do to Sal when I get my hands on him.
I gently lift her again, and she gives a little squeal of surprise. Then I slowly lower her into the water, even as it climbs higher, wetting my sleeves and shirt.
Once she’s settled in the tub, I release her, and she lets out a long sigh. “That feels good.”
The needy hint in her voice doesn’t help my erection. Fucking focus.
I grab some of my shampoo from the shower stall on the other end of the bathroom and set it on the marble. “I’m going to wash your hair now.”
She eases forward in the tub and bites her lip as she looks at the bottle.
“What? You don’t like this brand?”
“It’s not that. It’s just that my hair maintenance is complicated. The curls and all require extra care.”
I put the bottle down and kneel beside the tub. “Then tell me what to do. I’ll be taking care of you from now on, so I need to know things like this.”
She studies me, as if gauging my sincerity, then decides in my favor, I guess, since she continues. “Well, wash it, then I have to use a lot of conditioner before you brush it out. It’s not a big deal if it dries on its own or anything. It’s not like I can go anywhere with all these bruises.”
I gently nudge her back into the water, and she wets her hair. It doesn’t take long to wash it, then I follow her instructions to condition it and brush it out, careful not to pull at her scalp. Once satisfied, she nods and leans back on the tub. “I just need to let it sit for a second before we rinse.”
The way she says we sends another surge of need through me. I’m already barely hanging on to my control after digging my hands into her hair as she moaned her pleasure with every press of my fingers.
She washes her body even though I offer, and then I help her rinse. Once her skin is a soft glowing pink, dotted with bruises, I strip out of my soaking wet clothes and wrap her in a towel.