Page 32 of Unexpected Company
“No, too sleepy,” I moan, rolling onto my stomach and burying my head in the pillow.
Garrett sighs and moments later there’s the clack of the bowl settling on the bedside table, before a heavy, warm weight crushes me into the mattress.
It’s bliss. Pure, utter bliss.
“You’ll feel better once you’ve eaten,” he says into my ear, his breath and beard tickling the sensitive skin there.
For the first time since I woke up a sweaty mess a few days ago, my cock stirs, warmth blooming in my belly.
Well, hello there, arousal. Nice to have you back.
My lungs ache from breathing against the pillow, so I turn my face to the side to suck in fresh air.
“What do I get if I eat?”
He chuckles. “Sustenance, a full stomach, vitamins and nutrients?”
“Boring,” I reply, dramatically sticking out my bottom lip. I was hoping for something more enticing. Like another hour of cuddling, or another accompanied shower or the shirt off his back, which probably smells like man and sweat and Garrett.
He rolls off me, and I whine, immediately flipping onto my side to follow his movements and resisting the urge to make grabby hands at the guy I’ve been clinging to like a barnacle.
Garrett stands next to the bed and lifts the bowl of soup.
“Eat, Roman.” His voice is stern, which sets off butterflies in my chest, along with this desire to do as he asks.
I sit up, flopping my head back against the headboard with a grunt. My throat isn’t scratchy any longer and my body isn’t aching, but there’s still that distant fogginess that accompanies sickness that is making it a slow process to get moving.
Reaching out a hand, I place it over Garrett’s forearm.
“Feed me?” I ask, trying to flutter my eyelashes. It’s not a move I’ve done before, so I probably look like I have something in my eye. But hey, gotta give me points for trying.
Garrett rolls his eyes, but grins. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he fills a spoon with the chunky liquid and holds it to my lips. I part them, swallowing it down before opening my mouth. Soon, my stomach is comfortably full, and the bowl is empty.
“More food or a shower?” he asks, tipping his head in the direction of the hallway leading to the rest of the cottage.
I give my armpits a cursory sniff. Not too bad. Then I run a hand through my hair. It’s tacky and tangled, sticking to my nape thanks to all the sweating I’ve done since –
“How long was I out for?”
“Two days,” Garrett says in answer. “You got up once or twice, had a shower.” He smirks and my not feverish cheeks suddenly heat. He laughs before continuing. “I got some water, paracetamol and soup in you – with a lot of moaning – and then you slept on the sofa for a bit while I worked. Last night, I brought you back to bed.”
He did all that for me? My throat goes tight and I blink away a sudden wash of tears. Being sick has obviously made me emotional. Or maybe it’s that no one has taken care of me since my mum died. My aunt was fine – she did all the things she needed to do to make sure I grew up healthy – but she wasn’t a caretaker. She didn’t hug me or tell me she loved me. And she certainly never sat with me for two days when I was running a fever.
Garrett dabs the skin on my cheek, catching a stray tear on his thumb. He looks at me with bright hazel eyes, flecks of gold sparkling in them, but he doesn’t question my sudden wave of emotion.
“So what will it be, Short Stack? Food or shower?”
“Is an orgasm on the menu? Because if it’s not, it should be,” I reply playfully.
He laughs with his whole body; the sound rumbling from his chest. I fucking love it.
“I’ve missed your sass,” Garrett jokes.
Experiencing a bolt of energy, thanks to rest, food and the man in my bed, I flick the blanket off me, then swing my legs over the side. The room is warm, and I’m cosy in my oversized hoodie and fleece leggings, but I’m barefoot and the hardwood flooring is cool beneath my feet. I sway as I press to stand, getting my bearings after being out of it for so long.
Rounding the bed, I part Garrett’s legs and slide between them. His hands find their way under my hoodie, settling on my lower back.
“I’m going to shower, after which we’ll watch a movie.” I bend down and plant one promising kiss on the side of his neck. “And then there will be orgasms.”
