Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 99949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
“S’nell… s’nell,” Theo breathed against me. “S’nell good,” he managed to get out along with the word “you” before he was completely out.
I gave his body a few more seconds to make sure his bladder was as relieved as the rest of him, then I stood, taking him with me. A swipe of my hand and his underwear was back in place. I disconnected the IV pole before lifting Theo into my arms again. As tempted as I was to take him back to my bed, I knew we’d just have a repeat of the entire scene.
No thanks. My body was already wound so tight that a quiet jack-off session in the shower might be necessary.
Yep, his room. He needed to be in his room.
I settled him on his still-made bed and then began the process of getting the covers out from underneath him and over him instead. I returned to the bathroom for the IV pole. Once I had him reconnected to it, I found the nearest chair and pulled it close to the bed. There was absolutely no reason for me to stay in his room. He’d likely sleep for hours.
But I stayed there anyway. My own body’s need for rest was insistent but I couldn’t make myself move.
“S’nell good,” I murmured to myself as I thought back to what Theo had said against my neck. It took several seconds to figure out what he’d been trying to say.
“You smell good,” I whispered with a soft laugh. I couldn’t stop thinking about every touch of his lips as he’d tried to say the words and every whisper of breath that had grazed my skin like the softest of rose petals. I tried to keep my eyes focused on Theo as he slept but with every breath he took, my brain zeroed in on the rhythm and from there on I was a goner.
“You smell good too,” were the last words that managed to escape my lips before my eyes drifted shut and I fell into the blissful silence of sleep.
CHAPTER SIX
THEO
I was so fucking warm I wanted to cry.
Or maybe feeling like I’d been run over by a train was the reason the corners of my eyes stung.
“Warm,” I murmured to myself as I answered my own question. I was so familiar with every level of pain that I was virtually immune to tears caused by that sensation. What I wasn’t familiar with was being warm.
Deliciously so.
Sure, I knew what it was like to be warm when wrapped in a blanket, but it had been a long time since I’d felt soft heat flowing through my blood.
Touching every nerve ending.
Letting me remember before…
Before when I’d been wrapped in Ford’s arms when we’d been naïve teenagers.
Before when I’d still been a child, protected from an ugly world by a thin veil of innocence.
Before when I’d still been…
When I’d still been.
Been someone.
Something.
Anything.
I sighed and forced my internal pity party to shut the hell up.
I was warm. What the fuck did it matter how or why? I just wanted to enjoy it for as long as I could.
As long as I could ended up being about thirty seconds because I nearly jumped out of my skin when a muffled sound to my left broke through the thin wall between asleep and awake. I commanded my pained body to respond and bolted upright in bed so I could assess the threat.
The threat turned out to be nothing more than soft snores coming from the beautiful man who’d invaded my life… and my dreams.
Lincoln was sitting in an armchair that had clearly been designed for decoration and not for cradling the body of a large man.
God, he was big.
Of course, everyone seemed big to me these days.
I didn’t know why.
I forced myself to focus on the man who was within a dozen feet of me. He had his arm slung over the wooden arm of the chair and his head resting against the inside of his elbow. Strands of long, pretty golden hair covered most of his face. A few of the soft-looking locks were moving with every breath he took.
A delicious shiver went through me as I watched what little of his lips I could see skim his hair with every breath. I wondered which would feel softer against my skin.
How long had he been sitting in that uncomfortable chair watching me?
Watching over me?
I leaned back against the pillow so I could watch Lincoln sleep.
Watch over him, maybe?
It was when I began to pull the blanket higher up that I noticed the bandage on the back of my left hand.
Reality and memories collided, leaving pieces of me scattered everywhere like a fallen skyscraper.
I was still at Ford’s house.
I’d spent God only knew how many hours or even days in Lincoln’s bed as my body had fought off the infection my own recklessness had caused.