I immediately release my hold on his waist and look down, realization dawning in my eyes. “You’ve been stabbed!”
“You’re pretty smart for a nurse.”
Under normal circumstances, I would have said something nasty at the insult, but my hands are shaking as I turn the key to my front door and usher him inside before slamming the door shut and flicking on the lights. “Bathroom. Now.”
My tone brooks no argument and he lifts a brow at it before glancing around and then following my eyes and opening the door to a small, well-maintained bathroom.
My apartment might be small but my bathroom has a bathtub, a luxury I’m always grateful for.
“Sit there on the edge of the tub. I’ll be right back.”
I leave him there and go to my bedroom to fetch the first-aid box. I bring it to the bathroom and see that the man is sitting out the edge of the tub, his face pale.
I have a stranger in my apartment.
As I put down the box and open it, I realize that I might have a reckless streak in me which might end up with me getting killed one day. Even as I think that, I’m assessing the damage to him. His shirt is clinging to him in some places and I realize that removing it is imperative.
“I’m going to have to cut your shirt off,” I tell him and he nods, tight-lipped.
I take out a pair of fabric scissors and start snipping.
I’m on my knees in front of him, my hands steady, the silence in the bathroom only broken by the sounds of the scissors neatly clipping the cloth in two. It takes me a few minutes to get the shirt off and when I do, I suck in a horrified breath. “What happened to you?”
Almost his entire torso is black and blue and I see the vicious stab wound. He’s not bleeding anymore but it needs to be cleaned and stitched up. There are scrapes and bruises on him. It’s like his entire body is mapped out with injuries and my lips tremble when I see new injuries over faded scars.
I don’t realize that my fingers are ghosting over them until I lift my eyes and meet his steady gaze. The look in them shakes me but I can’t help but ask. “Are you sure you won’t let me take you to a hospital? You might have some internal bleeding we can’t see.”
He gives me a wry smile, his thin lips curving. “I’m afraid not, mon chérie.”
I take a deep breath. “Well, you need stitches.”
He gives me a lopsided grin. “I’m not afraid of needles.”
I shake my head. “Fine. Let’s clean you up first.”
His muscles are hard under my fingers and despite the seriousness of the situation, I can’t help but admire the lean strength of him. He’s built, there’s not an ounce of fat on him.
The cotton is soaked in bloodied water and I use an entire roll of gauze to wipe off the blood and apply antiseptic to his injuries, disinfecting them. Throughout, he doesn’t so much as move but I can feel his eyes on me and it does something to me, even as my hands steadily work on him, to know that I am the sole focus of his attention.
It takes me an hour to clean each wound and injury and then I move to the stab wound. I pause at it and look up at him. His wild green eyes bore into mine and he reminds me of a dangerous untamed predator who is just watching me, pretending to be docile under my hands.
The idea of him suffering as the needle pierces his skin is unbearable for some reason and I swallow. “Wait here.”
He doesn’t say anything and I put my hands on his thighs to propel myself up, realizing only too late what I’ve done as I feel the powerful muscles, under my slim hands, tense. My head jerks up and we’re nose to nose, and I see the unmasked heat in his eyes.
“D-Don’t.” The whimper is torn from me.
He looks amused. “I didn’t do anything.”
Chapter 3
Don’t look at me like that.
I can’t say the words that are at the tip of my tongue and it takes a heroic effort to tear my gaze away from his knowing one.
I stumble to my feet and go in search of the whiskey that I got last week from the grocery store. I don’t bother with a glass and just bring the whole bottle along with me, handing it to him, careful not to meet his eyes.
“I’m going to stitch you up now and it’s going to hurt, so just take a couple of drinks of this.”
He opens the bottle and sniffs before carefully sealing it. “I’m good.”
That has me looking up and I remember where I had seen him the first time and I feel a bit of shame and irritation. “I know it’s not the best quality but trust me, it’ll help.”
His lips curl in that mocking smile. “Don’t worry about me, chéri. I’ve had worse than a needle poking at me.”
I want to ask him to reconsider and I open my mouth. Before I can say anything, his hand curls around my nape and he’s pulling me up until his mouth presses against mine, his tongue sweeping inside my mouth, tasting the bitter flavor of the beer still lingering there. His kiss is hard and my hands which had been lifted to push him away, go limp, my pussy throbbing, my nipples tightening as he abuses my mouth so lovingly.
He releases me, gently, and then stares into my eyes, his voice ragged. “How do you taste so good?”
I’m trying to get my brain cells to work but I can’t process his words. He’s cupping my face, his thumbs stroking my cheeks, his words a thick murmur. “Such a defenseless little thing. You make me want to corrupt you in every way possible.”
That gets my attention, and my hand which had been limply holding on to the needle, tightens its grip on it and I poke him with it, making him jump.
My breathing is uneven. “Do that again and I’ll shove this somewhere it’ll really hurt.”
He grins suddenly and it’s an achingly beautiful sight, making me swallow. “I needed an option aside from that poison you were offering me.” His tongue darts out as if to taste the flavor of me still on his lips and I try not to react to the sight of that.
“Sit still,” I growl, horrified at myself for what I’ve let him get away with. For someone like me who is always so careful, I’ve been acting too recklessly ever since I met this man. I should have called an ambulance the second I saw that he was injured rather than bring him home. I should have kicked him out when he kissed me right now.
I kneel between his legs and start stitching.
He doesn’t move and once I’m done, I snip the thread and then lean back on my haunches and inspect my work. “You okay?”
He nods, his eyes never leaving my face.
I stand up, careful to avoid touching him this time.
“Your major injuries have been treated. I still need to look at your face.” I shift uncomfortably. “Um, don’t touch me, okay?”
He blinks at me and I continue. “I need to, um, stand close to you to keep my hand steady.”
He gets my meaning a second later and the smirk on his lips makes my heart skip a beat. “Oh you mean like this?”
He parts his legs and with one hand on my waist, he drags me until I’m standing between his thighs. I can feel the heat and power radiating from his body and it makes my legs tremble. “J-Just, uh, you keep your hands where I can see them.”
His grin widens and I study the gash along his jaw, clinically, doing my best to ignore the havoc his proximity is causing me.