Honor
Page 38
I flinched and looked at his shiny wet locks. Heavy with water, his hair hit his shoulders and looked like black satin.
“Gross.”
He chuckled drily. “You’re filthy and need to clean up before I take you to bed.”
I snorted at him and pushed off the counter. “You have a concussion and a head wound. You really think I’m going to have sex with you when you’re all busted up?”
I gasped as he reached out and grabbed the front of my shirt to yank me toward him. He pulled me so that our chests were touching and then started tugging the shirt out of my pants so that he could wrestle the fabric up over my head.
“You think you have a choice? I told you once I got my hands on you, they weren’t coming off.”
I frowned and pulled back a bit as he expertly popped the clasp on my bra and moved his fingers to the button on my pants. “You’re hurt, Nassir. I’m not going anywhere. Sex can wait until we both can enjoy it.” I stepped out of my pants when they pooled around my ankles and his eyes got some of their usual fire back in them when he saw I hadn’t been wearing anything underneath the skintight fabric.
“Get in the shower, Key.” Deciding that was the best course of action to avoid further argument, I climbed into the opulent glass enclosure and gave myself a quick scrub-down. When I got out he handed me a fluffy robe that was six sizes too big but immediately engulfed me in softness and comfort when I slid into it.
He had a black box open on the vanity and was digging through it. A pair of tweezers with blood on them were sitting next to the sink and he had a white bandage taped across the wound on the side of his neck. He had several little nicks on his cheeks and on his forehead that looked like he had gotten into a fight with the razor while he was shaving and the razor won.
“Jesus. You’re doing your own triage.”
“I had a few pieces of glass in my face I couldn’t get out with my fingers. I can’t see the top of my head, so I need you to put a stitch or two in to hold the gash closed.”
I recoiled automatically at the brutality of it. “They have these people called doctors that go to school to learn how to do that.”
“A doctor would want to shave my hair around the wound. No thank you. It’s simple, like putting a button back onto a shirt.”
I grimaced as he handed me a curved needle that looked like something out of a horror movie and some kind of shiny thread.
“You skipped the hospital because of your vanity? Give me a break, Nassir.”
He moved to sit down on the toilet in front of me and bent his head down so I could see the three-inch gash that still looked really bloody and raw on the top of his head.
“I didn’t go to the doctor because it’s something I can take care of myself. I don’t like other people’s hands in anything I can take care of on my own.”
“Not people, you stubborn man. A trained professional. You are taking being a control freak to an entirely new level. Do you have something to numb this up with or anything?”
He handed over a pair of latex gloves and put his elbows on his knees as he hunched over. “No. Just get it over with.” He looked up at me from under his heavy brows and told me, “I never had control before I took it for myself. I almost died to get it, so now I’m protective about keeping it. Just like I never had a real reason to fight for something until you. I wanted you to stay innocent forever even though I knew you couldn’t.”
I bit my lip so hard that I thought I might break the skin. I threaded the needle and held it in my hand and just stared at the top of his head for another few minutes. I saw his shoulders rise and fall as he waited impatiently for me to begin.
“I need you to help me out here, Key. You know how hard it is for me to ask anyone for help?”
“I don’t want to hurt you.” I really didn’t, but I couldn’t deny his request for help either.
“You’re here. I’m here. I’m going to take you to bed as soon as you get me all put back together. I’m feeling no pain.”
I laughed a little and stepped between his knees and rested a hand on his silky hair. “You’re a liar.”
“I am . . . doesn’t change the fact I’m feeling pretty good right nowww—” He broke off and hissed out the last of the word as I jabbed the end of the needle into one side of the slice and out the other. “Holy fuck, that burns.” The sound the needle made sliding through his skin had my stomach tightening up and my hands shaking.
I didn’t reply. I was using every ounce of concentration I had to put in a row of tiny, precise little black stitches. It was hard to see since the thread was the same color as his hair, but I somehow managed, and in just a few minutes the wound had four little knots holding it closed even though it still looked really angry and red.
“Done!” I snapped the gloves off and set the needle and thread down next to the sink. I squealed as his hands were suddenly under the bottom of the robe and skimming up the back of my legs.
“Thank you.” His face moved forward and his lips hit me in the center of the chest where the robe draped open. His hands squeezed the globes of my ass and his tongue darted out to lick over the smooth surface of my bullet wound. “My head hurts.” His voice was thin and strained. I rubbed my fingers under his wet hair at the base of his neck. He moved his face and used the tip of his nose to push the heavy fabric covering my breasts up out of his way. My spine went rigid when my nipple was suddenly sucked into the heat of his mouth.
“Nassir?” It was part question and part plea. I knew once his hands were on me there would never be a way I could live without his touch. It felt like he was creating something on my skin with every brush of his fingers and press of his damp mouth to my skin.
“I have to touch you, Key. I have to have you. Everything went black when I was hanging there trapped and the world was the wrong way around, and all I could think was ‘I can’t fucking die without touching her, without knowing how she feels.’ All the horrible shit I’ve seen and done, and that would be my single regret.”
He pulled on the belt of the robe and the heavy material fell away, leaving the front of me bared to his melted amber gaze. He sucked in an audible breath and pain flashed across his face, but only for a second because he moved to kiss me on the center of my chest then used his tongue to trail a damp path to my other nipple. Once he reached it, his teeth scraped across the pebbled tip and my eyes crossed.
“Gross.”
He chuckled drily. “You’re filthy and need to clean up before I take you to bed.”
I snorted at him and pushed off the counter. “You have a concussion and a head wound. You really think I’m going to have sex with you when you’re all busted up?”
I gasped as he reached out and grabbed the front of my shirt to yank me toward him. He pulled me so that our chests were touching and then started tugging the shirt out of my pants so that he could wrestle the fabric up over my head.
“You think you have a choice? I told you once I got my hands on you, they weren’t coming off.”
I frowned and pulled back a bit as he expertly popped the clasp on my bra and moved his fingers to the button on my pants. “You’re hurt, Nassir. I’m not going anywhere. Sex can wait until we both can enjoy it.” I stepped out of my pants when they pooled around my ankles and his eyes got some of their usual fire back in them when he saw I hadn’t been wearing anything underneath the skintight fabric.
“Get in the shower, Key.” Deciding that was the best course of action to avoid further argument, I climbed into the opulent glass enclosure and gave myself a quick scrub-down. When I got out he handed me a fluffy robe that was six sizes too big but immediately engulfed me in softness and comfort when I slid into it.
He had a black box open on the vanity and was digging through it. A pair of tweezers with blood on them were sitting next to the sink and he had a white bandage taped across the wound on the side of his neck. He had several little nicks on his cheeks and on his forehead that looked like he had gotten into a fight with the razor while he was shaving and the razor won.
“Jesus. You’re doing your own triage.”
“I had a few pieces of glass in my face I couldn’t get out with my fingers. I can’t see the top of my head, so I need you to put a stitch or two in to hold the gash closed.”
I recoiled automatically at the brutality of it. “They have these people called doctors that go to school to learn how to do that.”
“A doctor would want to shave my hair around the wound. No thank you. It’s simple, like putting a button back onto a shirt.”
I grimaced as he handed me a curved needle that looked like something out of a horror movie and some kind of shiny thread.
“You skipped the hospital because of your vanity? Give me a break, Nassir.”
He moved to sit down on the toilet in front of me and bent his head down so I could see the three-inch gash that still looked really bloody and raw on the top of his head.
“I didn’t go to the doctor because it’s something I can take care of myself. I don’t like other people’s hands in anything I can take care of on my own.”
“Not people, you stubborn man. A trained professional. You are taking being a control freak to an entirely new level. Do you have something to numb this up with or anything?”
He handed over a pair of latex gloves and put his elbows on his knees as he hunched over. “No. Just get it over with.” He looked up at me from under his heavy brows and told me, “I never had control before I took it for myself. I almost died to get it, so now I’m protective about keeping it. Just like I never had a real reason to fight for something until you. I wanted you to stay innocent forever even though I knew you couldn’t.”
I bit my lip so hard that I thought I might break the skin. I threaded the needle and held it in my hand and just stared at the top of his head for another few minutes. I saw his shoulders rise and fall as he waited impatiently for me to begin.
“I need you to help me out here, Key. You know how hard it is for me to ask anyone for help?”
“I don’t want to hurt you.” I really didn’t, but I couldn’t deny his request for help either.
“You’re here. I’m here. I’m going to take you to bed as soon as you get me all put back together. I’m feeling no pain.”
I laughed a little and stepped between his knees and rested a hand on his silky hair. “You’re a liar.”
“I am . . . doesn’t change the fact I’m feeling pretty good right nowww—” He broke off and hissed out the last of the word as I jabbed the end of the needle into one side of the slice and out the other. “Holy fuck, that burns.” The sound the needle made sliding through his skin had my stomach tightening up and my hands shaking.
I didn’t reply. I was using every ounce of concentration I had to put in a row of tiny, precise little black stitches. It was hard to see since the thread was the same color as his hair, but I somehow managed, and in just a few minutes the wound had four little knots holding it closed even though it still looked really angry and red.
“Done!” I snapped the gloves off and set the needle and thread down next to the sink. I squealed as his hands were suddenly under the bottom of the robe and skimming up the back of my legs.
“Thank you.” His face moved forward and his lips hit me in the center of the chest where the robe draped open. His hands squeezed the globes of my ass and his tongue darted out to lick over the smooth surface of my bullet wound. “My head hurts.” His voice was thin and strained. I rubbed my fingers under his wet hair at the base of his neck. He moved his face and used the tip of his nose to push the heavy fabric covering my breasts up out of his way. My spine went rigid when my nipple was suddenly sucked into the heat of his mouth.
“Nassir?” It was part question and part plea. I knew once his hands were on me there would never be a way I could live without his touch. It felt like he was creating something on my skin with every brush of his fingers and press of his damp mouth to my skin.
“I have to touch you, Key. I have to have you. Everything went black when I was hanging there trapped and the world was the wrong way around, and all I could think was ‘I can’t fucking die without touching her, without knowing how she feels.’ All the horrible shit I’ve seen and done, and that would be my single regret.”
He pulled on the belt of the robe and the heavy material fell away, leaving the front of me bared to his melted amber gaze. He sucked in an audible breath and pain flashed across his face, but only for a second because he moved to kiss me on the center of my chest then used his tongue to trail a damp path to my other nipple. Once he reached it, his teeth scraped across the pebbled tip and my eyes crossed.
