Page 79 of Saving You

Oz nodded, then gestured for Ridge to get under the water before him. He watched as the stream began to flow overRidge’s cut body. His hair plastered to his head, tiny streams running down his cheeks, over his shoulders, down his abs.

Oz didn’t look lower than that. Not yet. Instead, he stepped past the door and let Ridge close it for him.

The water was a godsend on his aching skin. It stung where he was scraped up, and there were more places than he remembered the nurses getting clean. But it felt good to wash away the last remnants of that afternoon, and Ridge’s hands were very tender and very careful with him.

He used his palms instead of a loofah, lathering thick soap between them and then gently washing Oz from neck to toes. When Ridge was on his knees, going for the backs of his thighs, Oz couldn’t help it. He thickened and throbbed at the sight of his boyfriend like that. He could picture his mouth opening, his tongue heavy and warm surrounding his cock.

‘Baby,’ Ridge signed, fingers brushing his chin. ‘Do you want me to make you come?’

Oz swallowed heavily. ‘I don’t know.’ That was a lie. ‘Yes,’ he amended, ‘but I’m afraid it’s going to hurt if I tense up.’

Ridge nodded and bypassed his dick entirely as he stood up. He rinsed his hands, then eased Oz under the spray and, with wide, sweeping motions, helped the water rinse the soap down the drain. He didn’t bother with his hair, which Oz was grateful for. Instead, he reached past and turned the water off, then grabbed a towel and began to gently pat him dry.

“Hurts,” Oz said aloud when Ridge dabbed over the worst of the scrapes near his hip. The road had trashed his skin above the waistline of his jeans.

Ridge grimaced and pulled the towel back. ‘Sorry. Let’s get you in bed.’ He wrapped the towel around his own waist and led a mostly dry, very naked Oz out of the shower and through the door, into the bedroom.

Oz was comforted by the scent of Ridge on the clothes he handed over. He let Ridge put his arms through the holes of the T-shirt, and then he shimmied into the sweats, letting his dick and balls hang free inside them. He supposed if Ridge was going to put his mouth on them, he didn’t much care if they rubbed all along the inside of his pants.

The thought made him grin as he sat down, and he got a kiss for that right before Ridge slid the sling back on him.

‘Why are you smiling?’

“Commando,” he said aloud.

Ridge rolled his eyes and laughed. ‘Easy access.’ He burst into a bigger peal of laughter when Oz’s eyes went wide. ‘Only if you feel like it later. I’m going to get my good bottle of lotion and some food. You get comfortable.’

Oz nodded and let Ridge help him back to the pillows. He rested his head against the headboard and closed his eyes. It would be a miracle if he didn’t doze off, but maybe that was okay too. He was allowed to rest. He was allowed to recover.

He was allowed to just be.

Oz had no idea what time it was when he woke up, but the bowl of soup beside him on the nightstand was still steaming. Ridge had to have refreshed it through because the sky outside was pitch-black, and everything was so still.

He turned his head to the side and saw Ridge propped up against the headboard, a laptop on his lap. Oz didn’t recognize anything on the screen, and when he cleared his throat, Ridge looked over, then closed it.

‘Paperwork,’ he signed. ‘Hungry?’

He was. He was famished and in pain. He wriggled to sit up, managing it with Ridge’s help, then left his legs flat so he could use the little tray his boyfriend picked up.

“This looks really good. Will you put my processors on so we can talk while I eat?”

Ridge jumped up from the bed and moved into the bathroom, appearing a second later. He attached them, and after a few seconds, noise filtered through. The room was still very, very quiet.

“Good?”

“Mm,” Oz said. He’d already taken down half the soup, and he was realizing that although he was still in pain, it was a lot less than it had been before. The worst were the stinging scrapes. They felt almost like burns, which was something he could handle. His shoulder was still throbbing though, and he wasn’t looking forward to the week he had to spend with his arm strapped down.

It was going to make work complicated.

“Shit. I have to take a short leave.”

“How do you do that? The website?”

“Um…” Oz had never had to take more than a day, and he’d only done that twice. He knew there was a protocol when it came to something like this, but his head was fuzzy. “An email, I think? My phone?” He realized right then he couldn’t remember what had happened to it.

Ridge grimaced. “Yeah. So.” That didn’t bode well. He slid off the bed and walked out of the room, returning a moment later with a clear plastic hospital bag, weighted down at the bottom with a handful of things.

Oz recognized his wallet and his keys, and yeah. His phone. Or what was left of it. It was completely shattered.

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