Page 22 of Shatter
An erection punched out at my hips, and I shuffled my lower body a little further away before Mr. Feelgood could get any bright ideas. Yes, I had a name for my dick, no big deal, everyone does it.
Her mouth was soft and pliant against my own. So different from the kiss I had taken only the night before last. Shit. I should never have used her like that.
Focus.
Before either of us could get carried away, she pulled back, the barest hint of a smile tugging at her cheek. I fisted my hands to keep from reaching for her, knowing this had to be on her terms. She was right, of course. Too much of our history had been about me. Everything I had told her last night was true, but I knew Darcy would need action to prove she could trust the words.
“Thank you for looking after me,” she said, studying my face for another moment before rolling over and throwing back the sheets. Her first attempt at getting vertical didn’t go as planned, and I lunged across the mattress as she caught herself on the bedside table. Easing herself back down to the bed, she gave a half-hearted chuckle. “Guess I’m not as steady as I thought, huh?”
She managed to keep her feet on the second try, and before she made it across the bedroom, I was up and at her side to help her into the bathroom.
“This is unnecessary,” she griped as I took her elbow and guided her to sit on the toilet seat.
“I’m just taking a shower. I don’t need help.”
The images of Darcy slipping and caving her head in on the tile flashed through my mind in a montage of blood and pain. Yeah, that wasn’t happening on my watch. Instead of getting into it with her, I reached into the shower and cranked the water on to warm.
“Kane.”
“Darcy.”
She glared at me in a way that would have been terrifying if it weren’t so damn cute.
I shouldn’t have enjoyed getting a rise out of her as much as I did, but seeing her fire come back after yesterday was a relief. Didn’t mean I was going to let her kill herself on the tile, though.
“You can barely stand. In fact, you passed out last night. No offense, but there’s no way I’m leaving you alone right now. I’ll close my eyes, Scout’s honor, but I’m not leaving this room.”
“I can’t believe that you were ever a Scout,” she said, eyeing the falling water behind me. Instead of answering, I tested the temperature, and finding it acceptable, made a show of squeezing my lids down tight, gesturing blindly toward the shower.
After a moment, the sounds of rustling fabric accompanied a put-out sigh. The grin that spread across my face was unstoppable, but I was determined to keep my promise. This was progress. This was trust. No more fucking up for me.
She passed so close to me that I could feel the warmth of her skin, and her moan as she stepped into the water was downright sinful.
With my eyes closed, my other senses felt magnified. I could hear the fall of water change cadence as she moved around under the stream, could smell the subtle floral fragrance of her body wash. Insisting on staying in this room was a form of self-torture. I knew it from the outset. So close to everything I wanted, and still, she remained completely out of reach. I drummed a quiet beat on the jeans I had worn to bed, in deference to Darcy’s modesty — I really was trying here — and tried to focus on anything except for the fact she was really naked right now.
“Kane?”
Her voice was soft, hesitant. I hummed in question.
“Could you… would you mind washing my back? I’m… I think I’m a little less steady than I thought.”
“I won’t look,” I promised, stepping into the humid space of the shower stall with her. As I held out my hand, I caught a rough ball of netting as it landed with a slap, wet soap running down the back of my hand and dripping onto my bare feet. With my other hand, I found her shoulder, my fingertips resting on her clavicle while my thumb stretched all the way down to the pointed wing of her shoulder blade. She was so small. So perfect. Using her shoulder as a guide, I swept the sponge thing she had given me down her neck, and over the back of her rib cage. This couldn’t end too soon. I needed it too much. Using long, slow strokes, I worked from top to bottom, brushing the dimples at the base of her spine. Her breath left her on a soft exhale, and it occurred to me that my self-imposed blindness was a blessing. My skin was hypersensitive. The warm stream of water soaking into my clothing was nothing I needed to worry about as she turned in my grip, presenting her front. I paused, unsure what she was after, until she took my wrist and guided it down her sternum, her breath catching as I brushed the underside of her breast. Fuck. I was painfully hard beneath my wet jeans, but this wasn’t about me.
I continued my long slow strokes down onto her belly and over her hips before dropping to my knees before her and taking one foot in hand, urging her to lift her foot onto my knees. Paying the same attention to each leg, I felt my belly swoop as her breath began to come in short pants. Fuck, I wanted to see her. Just open my eyes and look up at her gloriously wet body from where I knelt. I wanted to close the distance between my face and her pussy and see if it tasted as good as I had always dreamed. Of course it would. This was Darcy.
But without seeing her face, without expressly hearing the words, I couldn’t be sure this was what she had in mind. Plus, she was sick, for fuck’s sake. As the metaphorical cold water splashed over me, I retreated from the moment, even as I stayed put. I was thinking about myself again, not about Darcy, and that wasn’t fair. As much as I craved the closeness and intimacy, was Darcy ready? Or was I taking advantage of the situation. The fact I couldn’t answer that was enough to force me to my feet and reach for a towel to get her back to bed.
So she could heal properly.
Darcy
My head poundedas I pulled on the bra and panties Kane had so thoughtfully left on the basin for me. The headache had nothing to do with sickness and everything to do with the orgasm denial Kane had just pulled. Bastard. He had been true to his word, keeping his eyes tightly shut as he gently wiped my body clean, and the sight of him on his knees before me had made my clit pulse with need. So close. I had been a heartbeat away from begging when his shoulders had slumped and, before I could gauge where he had gone in his mind, he wrapped up the encounter and ducked out the door with a promise of coffee. Fuck coffee. I didn’t want caffeine right now, I wanted to ride his face until he made me scream. My mood thoroughly soured, I stomped into my bedroom and stalled out. I hated him, but I wanted him.
I did still hate him, right?
My waning resolve made me nervous, and maybe a bit hopeful?
I was definitely pissed at him right now, though. I rubbed my thighs together and felt my clit throb, begging for the attention it felt it deserved. I couldn’t go through the day like this; I would be a raging bitch unless I got some relief. I eyed the door. It was slightly ajar, but I doubted Kane would come and check on me.
