I feel the woosh of cold air on my lady parts, and know my dress is way too short to be sitting like this.
Adan’s hand leaves my leg, and I’m sat, legs spread apart, heart racing, wondering what the hell that was.
I glance at him.
He looks at me.
And the expression on his face makes me weak at the knees.
My god he’s hot, so fucking hot.
His eyes are intense.
His gaze unwavering and unrelenting.
Then he faces the front again.
What in the ever-loving hell was that?
“YOU SHOULD BE NICER to Hera,” I say as we walk up the stairs after arriving home. “She really likes you. If you don’t want to be with her, stop fucking her.”
“She was the easiest thing I could find tonight. Better what you know ...”
“God, you’re a real dick aren’t you? She’s not a toy, she’s a person.”
“A person who hangs around at the clubhouse waiting for me to fuck her.”
“Yes, and if you didn’t fuck her she’d move on and find a nice man, a man who actually likes her. You fucking her is keeping her there, and you know it.”
He glances at me. “I need a shower.”
Swift change of subject.
“It’s nearly midnight, Adan.”
“I don’t give a fuck what time it is, I need a shower. You’re here to do that, so do it.”
Oh, god.
I hate him sometimes.
My heart is so all over the place when it comes to this man.
“Fine,” I say through gritted teeth. “I’ll get changed and be right there.”
I turn and walk away, teeth still clenched tightly together. I have a quick shower of my own, throw my hair into a messy bun, put my pajamas on and head back to the bathroom where Adan is standing, waiting for me. I begin wrapping his arms in plastic for his shower so his bandages don’t get wet.
“What the hell took you so long?”
“I had my own shower. You’ll live.”
I finish his hands and step up to him to begin undressing, and for the first time, when my hands reach his jacket, my heart races. I’ve showered him plenty of times, and not once, not ever, has my heart gone silly like this.
Calm down, you over-active freak, we don’t like him.
I take in a deep, calming breath and slide his jacket off his shoulders.
Why the hell does this feel so erotic?
God dammit.
I make a grunting sound, trying to snap myself out of it.
“You havin’ a fuckin’ stroke or something?”
I look up at him, my heart races again. I’ve lost my mind.
“No, why?”
“You’re actin’ weird.”
“I’m tired.”
I shove his jacket off and then grab his shirt, removing it as quickly as I can, followed by his pants. I do not make eye contact with his dick, not once. I put my nurse brain in and wash his body faster than I’ve ever washed a body in my life. He stares at me the whole time, and once he’s dried, I pull his pajama pants on and turn, walking out of the door.
I can’t look at him.
I can’t.
I’m failing, he’s winning.
That’s what’s happening here.
I need to snap out of it.
“What’s goin’ on with you?” he asks, walking into the kitchen ten minutes later.
I’m making myself a turmeric latte. Sounds gross, but it’s delicious, and Eve introduced it to me years ago. I have had one before bed every night since. Because it helps me sleep, and turmeric ... right? It’s good for you and all that.
At least, it makes me feel better assuming so.
“I’m tired,” I say, stirring the milk on the stove.
“Never had a shower so quick in all my life,” he murmurs, coming up behind me.
I spin around, knocking the pot off the stove. The hot milk splashes all over me, and I cry out, stumbling to get out of its way. I’m as jittery as a cat on a hot tin roof and I’m losing my shit. Now, my skin is burning.
“Fuck me,” Adan growls, grabbing a dishwashing cloth from the sink and putting it under cool water.
“Ouch, shit,” I say, swatting at my thighs where the worst of the milk hit. It was pretty hot, not quite boiling but close and now my thigh is burning, god is it burning.
“Sit down, I need to put this on it,” Adan orders.
I rush into the living room and sit on the sofa, staring down at my skin which has turned red. Adan kneels in front of me and places the cloth on, immediately relieving it with the cool sensation.
“Is that clean?” I croak, staring at the cloth.
“Yeah,” he mutters. “Got to keep this on and keep putting cool water on it to keep it damp. Trust me, it’s the only thing that works.”
He has a bottle of water next to him, and every few minutes he soaks the cloth again without taking it off my leg. The cool is an instant relief every time.
“What the fuck were you so jumpy for?” he asks, looking up at me.
“I don’t know,” I say, shrugging. “You scared me.”
“You’re actin’ fuckin’ weird.”
He’s right.
I am.
And I need to snap the hell out of it right now.
Adan stays in front of me, checking my leg every few minutes.
“Got yourself good, it’ll hurt all night. Take one of my painkillers.”
“I’m not taking one of your painkillers,” I say trying to avoid the fact that it hurts, it fucking hurts, and I suddenly have a very new appreciation as to why Adan is so angry. He must be in pain all the time.
“Why the hell not?”
“Because you need them one hundred times more than I do. I have Tylenol, that’ll be fine.”
“No.”
“Yes, Adan.”
“I said, no.”
He stands and walks off down the hall and comes back with a white pill in his hand, he walks over and hands it to me. I turn away, shaking my head. “That could be anything, no.”
“It’s fuckin’ pain medication, you stubborn shit, and you’re takin’ it.”
“I’m not, though.”
“Yeah, you fuckin’ are.”
“Nope.”
He straddles me.
Every inch of air is sucked out of my lungs as I look up at him, feeling things that are making me full crazy.
Get it together, fucking hell, Ramona.
Pull it together.
“You put this in your fuckin’ mouth, or I’ll put it in for you.”
“I bet you’re turned on right now,” I say, pulling my sass back out from the parts of me where it was hiding.
It’s my only savior.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, I’m not.”
“I bet you’ve got a hard on.”
He snorts. “I don’t, trust me.”
I reach forward but he shoves my hand away. “No touchin’, those are the rules. Now take the pill.”
I pluck the pill from his hand and pop it into my mouth, he reaches for the glass of water and hands it to me. I swallow it.
“Happy now?” I mutter.
He leans down, so close his breath tickles my face. “Night night, sweetheart.”
I don’t remember a single thing after that.