Sinful (Bad Boy Rockers 5)

Now I have a dilemma. I landed funny earlier and slightly twisted my knee, which has swollen and is affecting the fit of the prosthesis. So getting out of the truck, I’m going to be limping.

I hate that a big part of my life is about to be shoved in Savannah’s face. She knows about my leg, and probably how it happened, but facing the reality of my life could make her change her mind about whatever is growing between us. It’s happened before, but none of them were under my skin the way that Savannah is, so it’s causing an ache in my chest. I guess there’s only one way to discover whether I’m being an idiot for wanting her in my life or whether I need to stop, move on, and forget all about her. That would make me sad as fuck.

It’s Savannah who’s helped to get me out of bed in the mornings. She’s given me a reason to smile, where before I had none. She is a possibility for the future and she gives me something to look forward to.

“Um, Jace. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. Let me get your door.”

“Don’t be silly it’s pouring down. I can get my own door. I’ll meet you on the porch.”

She already has her door open and is half way to my porch before I can argue and I’m left sitting like a fucking lemon in the truck.

Now or never.

I open my door and, climbing out, feel the pounding rain on my back, soaking through my shirt. Clamping my jaw together as I hobble to the porch, I try not to think about Savannah watching me. It would kill me watching her turn her back because of the disability that affects me every day, some days more than others.

Finally having shelter from the rain, I can’t catch my breath from the pain shooting up my thigh. I feel every breath rush from between my lips when Savannah closes the gap between us, and reaches up to smooth the lines bracketing my mouth. Her touch hits me straight in the heart, and causes a different kind of pain.

“You’ve been on your leg too long,” she comments. “I, um, read something once about the length of time someone with a prosthesis should actually wear one in a twenty-four hour period.” She blushes and moves her fingers.

Has she been reading that subject because of me? My heart stutters in my chest with hope.

Savannah’s shivering grabs my attention. “You need to get dry.”

Unlocking the front door, I usher her inside and try to keep my eyes above her chest. The white T-shirt she’s wearing is doing little to disguise the fact that she really is a woman. Because of the rain, her shirt clings to her delicious, curvy body and causes her breasts to be more prominent. Even the fact that she’s wearing a sports bra—which is clearly outlined—doesn’t hide the hardness of her nipples. If I’m not careful, she’s going to get an eye full of my groin.

Sighing, and giving up on trying to hide my limp, I usher her toward the bathroom. Pushing the door open, I say, “There are clean towels on the heater by the shower. Give me a minute and I’ll get you something to change into while we shove your clothes into the dryer.”

“Thanks, Jace…But what about you?”

“Me?” I turn and ask.

“Yeah. You’re just as wet.”

“Oh, I’ll use the en suite in my bedroom.”

She smiles. “Okay.”

I head toward my bedroom and grab some of my clothes for her as I wonder if she was offering to share the bathroom.

I’m embarrassed that she’s seeing my weakness. We haven’t spent any time together away from the softball field, so the fact that she’s under my skin is a miracle after I’d closed myself off from relationships. My disaster of an ex turned out to be a bitch of a woman, and although, I’m damn glad to be rid of her, it wasn’t easy at the time. Which is why I’d shut myself off.

Shaking the maudlin thoughts from my head, I quickly grab a pair of my briefs and an academy T-shirt for Savannah. I kind of like the idea of her wearing my clothes. I find that I like it a hell of a lot.

Meeting her at the bathroom door, my mouth drops to my feet before I can recover, and my voice deserts me. Savannah is wrapped in a bath towel and, I presume, nothing else.

Fuck!

She looks flushed.

I’ve embarrassed her.

Inhaling, I quickly pass her the clothes and head back to my bedroom before I can do what I so want to do. I want to dip my head and taste her rosy lips. She’s so damn beautiful…and she’s in my home.

Grabbing a couple of towels from the bathroom, I drape one around my neck and the other, I drop to the bed so I won’t soak it when I drop my ass onto it.

I sigh in relief when the weight is no longer on my prosthesis. It doesn’t stop the throb of pain running up my thigh, but it eases. Removing my prosthesis, I let it drop to the floor while I rub along my aching thigh. Savannah was partially right, and I have been on my prosthesis more than I should have been. Twisting my knee just made it worse and I’m going to have to suffer for a while.