Millions (Dollar 5)

With the sheet tossed to the side, the ankle brace clung to his limb like a growth—a manifestation of his pain.

In a way, he looked utterly exhausted and in another, he looked almost relieved to finally admit he needed someone to care for him…just for a little before he was back to his overly-generous, terribly-stubborn self.

Despite the dirt and blood still lingering on his skin, he warmed my heart and filled my thoughts with pastimes unsuited for patients and nursemaids.

“Why did you get up? Where are you going?” He yawned, white teeth flashing in the dark.

I had thought to head to the kitchen and retrieve dinner for him, but I didn’t want to leave.

I needed to be around him while he was awake, just in case he passed out again.

I have a much better idea.

“Don’t move,” I whispered.

His eyebrow rose. “I don’t think you need to fear on that account.”

Smiling, I left the bed and padded to the bathroom. There, I found a dish holding face towels and cute soaps shaped like feathers.

Tossing them out, I filled up the dish with warm water, stole two towels and some soap, then headed back to Elder.

His forehead scrunched while his eyes squeezed shut as if every breath hurt.

The moment he heard me, however, the truth of his discomfort vanished and his face smoothed out with a love-filled smile. “You came back.”

“Of course, I did.” Carrying my stash, I did my best not to spill warm water as I placed it on the bedside table. “I wouldn’t leave you.” I filled my voice with sincerity. “Ever.”

His gaze widened, drenched with tiredness and healing but dark with hunger and lust. “Even if you hadn’t just given me your word to never leave me, I would never be capable of letting you go, Tasmin.” He swallowed as his voice thickened. “You’re stuck with me. For however long my stupid heart keeps me alive.”

There he went again, using my real name in a suddenly passionate fragment.

“Your heart isn’t stupid.” Goosebumps scattered over my arms as I dropped my eyes. “It’s perfect.”

“You’re right. It isn’t stupid.” He reached for me, linking his fingers with mine. “It chose you.” His heat soaked into mine. “Come to bed.”

His touch somehow deleted everything, making me crave. I stumbled closer as he dragged me toward him.

Scooting down the bed, doing his best to hide his flinch and jolt from battered bones, he tugged until I kneeled on the bed beside him.

Gazing down, I tucked glossy strands of black away from his forehead, checking partly for his fever and partly for strength. The way he watched me hinted he could pin me to the bed and be inside me in moments. But the reality was his breathing remained laboured; his skin filthy from his fight.

If he was in agony, then he needed to rest, despite our rapidly building chemistry.

I shook away the lust waking up in my veins, then tugged at the sheet covering his chest. “May I?”

He smirked. “You know you don’t need to ask.”

Bracing myself, I pulled the covers down his black and blue body, revealing a patchwork quilt of defeat, victory, and scars.

Oh, El.

My fingers moved on their own accord, stroking along his collarbone and a large scratch living there.

He arched into my touch, a groan tumbling from his lips. “As much as I like you focusing on that part of my body, other parts need tending to more.”

“Like every other bruise and bump, you mean?”

He chuckled under his breath. “I mean what’s between my legs.”

“I’m sure that’s the only thing at present that isn’t hurt.”

“Ha!” He shivered as I drifted my fingers down his chest. “It’s the one place that’s hurting the most.” His gaze narrowed with heat. “Whatever you’re doing is driving me insane, Pim. Lie down or get away from me. I can’t have you sitting over me like that and not want to fuck you.”

I sucked in a breath, tearing my eyes from his to focus on the bowl full of water. “Well, you can’t. Not yet. Not until you’re better.”

“I am better.”

I leaned forward and dipped a towel into the wet warmth. “I’ll say when you’re better.” Wringing out the excess, I moved to his hips, taking the covers with me.

“What the hell are you doing?” His nipples peaked from either cold or desire as a few droplets landed on his belly from my cloth.

I did my best not to focus on the blood-stained bandages and the stitches holding him together. “Looking after you the way you looked after me.”

His eyes burned as I continued to push away the coverlets to the bottom of the bed. He winced as I brushed against his ankle encased in its boot.

“Sorry.” I climbed back up, settling so close my thigh kissed his hipbone. “I’ll try to be as gentle as I can.”