ADDICTED

35

JAMES

Holy Christ.

Leah exhaled softly, smelling like chicken and her perfume. Her face was inches away as she rubbed soap into my legs. The milky paleness of her naked legs taunted me. They looked so fucking soft. I wondered if she'd shaved.

My nerves were shot from imagining her without the rest of her clothes. It was killing me that I couldn't even strip her down. I couldn't even strip myself down.

I would have preferred healing in a coma until I was healed rather than suffering this way. My woman was within reach, half-naked in a tub with me, and I couldn't pleasure her.

Well, I could. It might take some negotiating.

"Darling," I murmured.

Leah rinsed her sudsy fingers in the bath water and dragged her gaze up to mine. "Yes, James?"

"You're doing splendidly. Do you think you could shampoo my hair as well?"

She rolled her eyes. "You're enjoying this a little too much. Your arms work just fine, buddy."

My lips peeled up. "I prefer your arms."

"I prefer being dry."

"We both know that isn't true."

Her mouth popped open. She did nothing but stare obtusely at me and, admittedly, it was the cutest thing I'd seen in some time.

"Kiss me, love," I said, only half teasing.

"You're insane." She straightened and wiped her damp palms on her shirt. "You must still be high."

"I'm not high. Just candid."

"Too candid."

"At least I'm not a prude."

Leah's lips curled in a scowl. "You're my boss. I should be a prude around you."

I gave her my best look of disbelief. "Hardly. This has never been strictly professional."

"No." Shaking her head, she stepped out of the tub and swiped her feet aggressively on the floor mat. "I'm not having this conversation with you."

"You're not leaving me in my own filth, are you?"

She wordlessly grabbed the plastic bowl from the counter and scooped up some of the lukewarm water with it. Her eyes flashed to mine just before she dumped the bowl on my head. I jerked with a gasp.

"Leah!"

Her brows arched. And then she dared to stick her tongue at me. My fingers moved so quickly that she didn't have time to suck the muscle back into her mouth.

"Ah!" she screeched, her tongue caught firmly between my fingers.

"That was very naughty of you," I scold her. "You'll be punished for that, darling."

As soon as I released her, she stumbled back. Her eyes were bright with surprise, anger, and even . . . pleasure?

"Fuck you," she hissed.

She spun around, her delicious ass on display, and stormed out. I leaned my wet head back against the tub. The flaunting of power still rippled through me. It was rapturous. My senses felt pricked for the first time in years.

I tried to flatten the spark, to dull the excitement, but my cock was zinging in its hardness. I needed her. I'd needed her all along, but now Leah was my oasis.

In this situation where I had little power, she was the one medium where I could still be strong. She would enjoy it too.

While I waited for her to return, as I knew she would, I unplugged the drain. The water wilted away. Soon it was just my nude body, slain in the tub.

The stitches peppering my legs wove between the curdled edges of my flesh. I hesitantly touched them and regretted it. My calves were swollen—bloated with sickness. I hated looking at them but I couldn't turn away.

"Here."

I lifted my head to find Leah dressed in a baggy T-shirt and pants, her hair hanging around her in thick, wet ropes. She schooled her face into a stone. Little did she know, I could be quite the geologist when I so desired.

"I'm ever so thankful for your kindness."

"Oh, shut it," she muttered. "Why are you in such a good mood anyway?"

I grabbed the rim of the tub and pulled myself up onto the lip. Leah rubbed a towel over my hair, patting me down.

"Because you're sleeping with me," I told her.

Her patting stopped. "No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are. I might fall out of bed in the middle of the night. You need to be there to pick me up."

"I'm sure Julia would be more than happy to. She's sick of the couch anyway."

"You're my designated caretaker," I insisted. "If my care is left in my dear sister's hands, I'll be dead with gangrene before the morning."

Leah scoffed. "What makes you think I won't do the same?"

"You want to keep me alive."

"But do I?" she snipped.

"Yes. I noticed you admiring my dick earlier. You won't get to make use of it again if I'm dead. And you don't strike me as a necrophiliac."

"You're disgusting."

I shook my head while lifting my arms so she could wipe under them. "You won't be saying that if you would stop being so virginal."

She ignored me. Once I was dressed in boxers and a T-shirt, I was loaded into the wheelchair and carted to the bed. Leah peeled back the sheets and fluffed the pillows. She lifted me by my sides and placed me on the mattress. Her face twisted up.

"You're an angel," I remarked.

Waving a dismissive hand at me, she pulled the covers up and turned off the bedside lamp. Moonlight from the bay windows illuminated her curvy shape. She started for the door.

"It's my first night back here," I called out. She paused. "I can't be left alone. Join me, Leah. Please. I don't want to be alone."

She went to the door, sighed, and closed it. Then she turned and came back to the bed. I folded my hands demurely, watching her pearly form slip into the covers.

"It would make me feel better if you touched—"

"Don't press your luck," Leah snarled. "Go to sleep. This is all the help you're getting from me."

Her warmth slowly crept across the chilled space between us. My hand flit to hers without care or thought. She sighed, already deep in the throes of rest.

I strained to keep myself alive for this woman, and now all I needed was to be near her. She decided to stay, to care for me. Whether she understood it yet or not, she was trapped in my orbit.

And I was a greedy sun.