The man came back after what seemed ages and holding a first aid box.
Was he a doctor? He could have been...but then, was he going to check me out himself?
“Are you… a doctor?” I asked him.
“No,” he sat down next to me, “but I’ve called one and he’s on his way.”
“So what are you doing with that?”
He bent down in front of me, which should have been impossible because he was wearing dress pants. But he did and the pants stretched alarmingly across his thighs making me more than ever conscious of him. This was insane because never before had I ever focused on a man like this. I was getting hot under the collar now. I started fidgeting under his scrutiny.
“We should clean up your wound so it doesn’t get infected,” He looked at me then for a long minute, the man was making me wish I had worn jeans or something. In my scraped knee and this dress, I was feeling like a child.
He looked at me over once, sighed and then gently took my leg in one of his hands while he reached for something with his other. It was a wet cloth; he must have brought it with him.
He had really big hands, I thought as he brought the washcloth closer to my ruined bleeding knee. I swallowed as I saw the mess I was in.
Gently, so gently it seemed impossible for a man with such giant hands, he started to wipe away the congealed blood and dirt off of my knee in circular motions.
I winced as he touched a particular spot and he looked up at me in concern.
“Did that hurt?”
I shook my head.
He looked at me a minute and then abruptly stood up
“Cmon..”
“Where?”
“This is not working; we need to go to the washroom for this”
“This is fine,” I argued, not intending to leave this sofa as I’d been glued to it. I didn’t want to enter more of his house than necessary.
“We’ll do it the way you like it then,” he shot me an exasperated look and then reached down and picked me up.
Again.
“I don’t like to be picked up and carried around like a sack of potatoes,”
“I wouldn’t be too sure,” he replied very casually
Did he know I wasn’t totally averse to being carried around by him? This was scary, something I shouldn’t be thinking, and something I shouldn’t be doing.
I mean, I didn’t even know the man. A fact which I kept repeating to myself but that didn’t register.
I was thinking with my hormones.
We went down a long corridor with a few doors along the way and then we entered into what seemed to be the master bedroom, all done up in greys and whites.
It seemed to be a powerful, masculine room with what looked like priceless art pieces around the room. The room was pristine, apart from the bed, which seemed slept in.
So he didn’t make his bed? I was relieved at that one clue that made him seem human.
I didn’t know why I was so fascinated by all these details.
He took me straight towards another door which was a full ensuite washroom, a room as big as my entire small flat. Why did anyone need a washroom this big?
He took me towards a glass shower cubicle with a low ledge on one side.
As if I needed another reason to be intimidated by him, I thought as he gently lowered me down on my feet but kept a hold on me, his warm hand wrapped around my waist.
“Sit down on that ledge, I’ll wash this blood off.” He started fiddling with his overhead shower and just brought it out. Oh, it was a handheld showerhead. Wow well, that made things easier.
“I’ll do it,” I quickly said, reaching over to take it from him.
“Leave it to me, we don’t want more accidents.”
“It’s my leg.” He shot me a look at that reply.
I made a face and folded my hands. I wasn’t the child he made me feel like.
His hand grasped my ankle and he brought it up, making my breath catch. He had amazing hands, long, lean with beautiful finger. I found myself wondering what else he could do with those hands, with those fingers.
“Seline?”
I realized he was talking to me.
“uh, yes?” My voice barely came out.
He looked at me then, his smirked as if he knew what I was thinking. I quickly readjusted my imagination to safer thoughts.
“Can you pull the skirt of your dress up just a bit?”
Why did he have to say these things in that tone? That tone that suggested other things. It wasn’t a long way from pull up your skirt to just take it off or was it?
That tone made me want to do things. Things for him. Whatever he said.
I shivered and pulled up my skirt.
I pulled it up an inch and then another until it was out of the way of the water.
He turned on the shower and gently washed all the blood and dirt off. It didn’t hurt so much now.
Or maybe I was sufficiently distracted by his hands on my bare leg.
I felt too hot even though the water was barely warm. Was I coming down with a fever?
I frowned and reached up to feel my head, it seemed fine.
What was happening to me?
“Cmon, here take my hand,” I looked down at his hand to see that he was standing up.
Oh, he had cleaned me up and I hadn’t even noticed, so absorbed was I.
Why did he talk to me as if he had known me forever? I was just a girl he’d met. Unless, he made a habit of bringing over girls to his penthouse.
I swallowed.
“No, it’s okay, I’ll try to stand up on my own,” I tried to be as formal as I could.
“Okay, as you wish,” he replied equally formally but I detected a hit of a smile as he turned away. The shower was still running in his hands.
“You shouldn’t waste water like that,” I said pointing towards the movable showerhead in his hands as I gingerly stood up on my feet and started to get out of the cubicle.
A sharp pain shot down my leg just like the last time Id tried to stand on it and I stumbled colliding into Damien, who had been reaching for the knobs.
“Fuck!” He caught me to him as we went down, the showerhead flying over us.
We were drenched, both of us and lying on the floor of the shower cubicle.My eyes were tightly close because I didn’t want to face him. Face Mr. Damien Flynn.I suddenly realized I was lying on top of him, my body so intimately nestled into his that we could’ve been one person.I opened my eyes, certain my face must be a picture of embarrassment.Oh God, oh God, Oh God, I chanted in my head.I took a breath and lifted my head from where it was resting on his chest and peeked up at him.He was looking straight at me, his face totally unreadable and my heart started beating in double time.He must be able to feel it, I thought, maybe he’ll think it’s because of the fall.He tilted his head slightly and then, holy shit, I could feel his hand moving from my waist, down my butt and onto my bare thigh. Then he raised one of his legs a little so it was almost like I was riding his thigh.The thought tur
We were so close I could see the flecks in his grey eyes. All I wanted to do was fit my mouth to his, it was more than a compulsion, I felt obsessed by his lips.By the way his thumb felt on my lips, I wondered if he was feeling the same things I was.Was it possible?My body felt out of control, I could even hear a ringing in my head.Wait a sec…He dislodged me a little and started patting his pockets searching for something.Oh, it wasn’t in my brain, it was his phone ringing.Damn I was out of it.I tried to get up off him to give him some space but he stopped me with one hand while he shook his head and picked up the call with one hand.I couldn’t concentrate on his conversation with the person on the other end.I was looking at his arm, the one holding the phone to his ear, one of his cufflinks had come undone leaving his arm with drops of water clinging to it.Without realizing wha
I quickly changed into the sweats and realized he’d been right, they really were too big for me. I was folding up the bottoms of the sweatpants into some way where they would fit me at least a little better when there was a knock on the bedroom door and Damien came in. He stopped just inside the door and stared at me. I quickly looked at myself… Was I wearing the hoodie backwards? What was wrong? He slowly walked over, an expression on his face I couldn’t read. “Am I wearing it wrong?” I was confused. “On the contrary, you’re wearing it just right. I would say perfect even.” He came over to me then and gently taking each one of my hands in his, folded the sleeve up to my wrists. “You know I’ve never really worn this pair of sweats before, I thought it just wasn’t my color” He said casually. “Why did you buy it then?” I asked “I didn’t.. It was sent to me.” “Oh, I’ll get it back to y
I was speechless with shock, so much that I couldn’t even get my breath back enough to say goodbye to the handsome doctor. Just what in the hell was this man thinking? I couldn’t even comprehend the amount of things that had been wrong in that statement he had uttered to the doctor. First the words themselves.. What did it mean that I was staying here the entire week? How was that in any way, reality or fantasy even possible? His reality, probably my forbidden fantasy but I didn’t want to go into that. I was embarrassed of my own behavior. I didn’t know him, he didn’t know me. We didn’t know each other. And the way he had said it, so casually to the good doctor. As if.. As if.. My imagination led on from there.. As if I lived here regularly, as if being here was a common thing. As if I belonged in this home, as if I belonged in his bed, as if I belonged in his life. As if we were lovers and had been for
He smiled, he knew he’d won the war so he could afford to be generous, “I will be taking the guest room but if for some reason you don’t like my room, we can shift you over to the guestroom. Do you want to walk or be carried?”I knew when I was in over my head and this was one of those situations. He had effectively trapped me by giving me a choice, because he knew I wouldn’t want to be carried anywhere.Not because I didn’t like it but precisely because my traitor body liked it too damn much.I let out a breath, “No this room is fine with me if it’s okay with you, giving up your room, your bed.”“So what do you propose? That I give up my room but not my bed? How?” There was a gleam in his eyes. Was he suggesting that I was suggesting that we share a bed? Yikes!“I’m not proposing anything Mr. Flynn,” I said defensively. I’d called him that on purpose, I wante
Did nothing ruffle the man? Was he always this calm and put together? Did he feel anything at all when he looked at me or was I just one of his charity cases?Maybe he did this kind of a thing often, pick up random people off the street and help those in need.Rich people did need a hobby too right? Maybe he was a philanthropist..And just how much free time did he have that he was always around. How did he support this ostentatious lifestyle?Oh God, I thought. What if he wasn’t a businessman at all? What if he was something more sinister?What if he did something illegal? A drug dealer? Mafia boss? Smuggler?Oh Lord, what had I gotten myself into? I was panicking now and Damien was looking at me with a curious expression. Maybe he could sense my anxiety because he didn’t say anything or offer to help me. He just stared at me.I would have to find out somehow. Maybe I could look around his room, but that couldn’t be
I let out the breath I was holding as a huge load fell off my shoulders. Now I just had to prepare for the minefield of question that Maria would bring with her tomorrow. I hated how I knew some of the questions and yet I was ignoring them because I didn’t have an answer myself and I was scared of what I would find if I looked too close at my own feelings.For now, it was enough that I’d told Maria, I’d deal with the rest when the time came.I kept the cell phone on the nightstand and looked up to find Damien lounging in the doorway looking like he had been there a while. I bit my lip and wondered just how much he’d heard.I tried to decipher his expression but I couldn’t make out anything. I was being paranoid, he couldn’t have heard anything.“Thanks for charging my phone, I talked to my friends.” He didn’t need to know I’d only talked to one friend. The only one who was like a sister to me.
“You were eaves dropping on me?” Oh God! He'd heard everything.I wasn't Marie, I didn't know how to magically come up with a quick save!“Not by design” he said, “I just happened to come by at the right moment.”“You mean wrong moment.” I groaned and hid my face behind my hands. “You should know that you shouldn’t take anything I say to Mari seriously. She’s.. overdramatic, so I have to, you know be really overdramatic too, just to counteract that.. I really didn’t mean it..”I peeked up at him and he didn’t look at all angry.He just opened the tub of ice cream and dipped his spoon in, “You can keep hiding behind your hands while I’ll enjoy the ice cream.” he said.“You mean you aren’t angry at me?” I asked tentatively.“Why would I be angry?”“Oh,” I was confused.I let down my ha