His mouth is strong, and I open up for him as he takes over. He owns my kiss and somehow marks my soul with his lips. I press myself against him, wanting more, not thinking about anything else but living in this moment.
But before I know what’s happening, he jerks back from me and steps away. A let out a small gasp of surprise. I’m shocked by my own behavior, but even more so when he turns around, facing away from me.
His breathing is heavy and I can tell he’s trying to get himself under control. I raise my hand to my lips, still feeling the pulse of him there. I shouldn’t want more of him, but this time I can’t find the will to care.
He turns to look back at me. “I’ve wanted you to kiss me back like that for so long.” He runs a hand through his hair, like he can hardly stay in his skin. “I need to take care of you right now, but it’s hard when you look at me like that. It makes me want to take you down to the bathroom floor and get on top of you.”
He takes another deep breath before he starts taking his own clothes off. For a long moment I wonder if that is what he’s going to do, and I swear I feel the pulse that was just on my lips between my legs. Will I let him? My body responds in the affirmative.
When he’s completely naked and comes back in front of me, he picks me up and carries me into the shower. He holds me under the warm water, and I feel all my muscles relax at once. Being this close to him and in his strong arms, it’s like my body knows it’s safe.
He places me on my feet as I slowly drag down every hard inch of his body. His eyes locked with mine, he grabs a cloth and soaps it up. He begins to run it all over my skin, his soft touch hesitant in places. I think he might still be worried about me being injured, but what if this is his way of testing his control? Every so often I feel the shake in his hand, and I wonder how much longer he can restrain himself.
My eyes travel over his body as he kneels down in front of me. I memorize each hard muscle and the way they flex as he touches me. His body looks like it’s been carved from stone. I’ve never seen a man naked before, unless you count on TV or the internet. But my body still knows when a man like him is before me. His broad chest moves with ease as he soaps up one leg and then the other. My gaze follows the trail of hair on his body that goes down the middle of his hard abs and leads deeper and deeper. When I see the hard, heavy length pointing straight up, my pussy throbs. It’s as thick as my wrist and dark with need. The head of it looks swollen and is begging for attention. His hand slips between my legs, and I gasp out. For a second his head snaps up, thinking he’s hurt me, but he must see the look on my face, and understand why.
My entire body blushes.
He stands up in front of me, and the hardest part of him nestles against my belly, rubbing against my soapy skin. I can’t help myself and I scoot in a little closer.
“Cricket.” Ryker grows even bigger against me, and his voice sounds like he’s in pain. “Let me take care of you.”
His hands run through my hair and I close my eyes as he washes it. He touches me like I’m the most precious thing in the whole world. I can’t remember my own mama washing me as a little girl. I always took care of myself. This kind of attention is foreign to me, and I never realized how much I truly craved it until now.
I move in closer to him, letting my hard nipples press against his chest. I want to remove the space between us and mold my body to his.
“You could have died,” I whisper as I move my body up and down against his. My nipples rub against his, and his length pulses between us. I look up at him through my lashes and see him watching me.
“I’d die a thousand deaths to save you. You’re mine, Blair, and I’m always going to keep you safe. Nothing will take you from me.” He says it with so much certainty. His words should scare me, but after what happened, they only settle a place inside me.
He goes back to washing me as I move against him, the hot water washing away all the dirt and chill. But it feels as if he’s washing away more than that. He’s washing away some of my fears, insecurities, and maybe even inhibitions. Some I knew I had, but some are unexpected. Ryker is showing me a part of myself that I never knew existed.
All too soon there’s a knock on the door. I hear someone say the doctor is here, and Ryker shouts back over the sound of the shower that we’ll be right out.
“I really don’t think I need to see a doctor,” I mumble as Ryker helps me out of the shower and dries me off with a big fluffy towel.
Once I’m all clean, he pulls out a clean shirt and slips it on over my head. It swallows me up, falling to my knees, but it smells like him, so I don’t mind. After that, he helps me into bed and pulls the covers up over my body. He mutters something about the doctor not seeing me in a silk nightie, but I’m still sexy. I smile, loving that no matter what I look like, he still thinks I’m beautiful.
“Humor me,” he adds as he walks into the closet and comes back out a moment later with sleep pants and a T-shirt on. He walks over towards me with a brush in his hand, and I reach out to take it from him. He shakes his head and smiles softly. “Let me.”
He sits down behind me as he slowly brushes out my hair, and I close my eyes as I lean against him. The feeling of him playing with my hair is so soothing, as is the warmth of his body. That, combined with my adrenaline crash, and my eyes are too heavy to keep open.
I jerk awake when a kiss lands on my neck. “Wake up, baby. The doctor is coming in.” My eyes flutter open, and I realize I dozed off for a second. I want to get him to send the doctor away so I can curl up and go back to sleep. My body feels so heavy now as a few aches start to set in. I know I’m going to be sore tomorrow, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. But Ryker is insistent, so I settle in knowing he wants me to be checked out, and I want to put him at ease. For some crazy reason I want to do this for him so that he will be reassured. A trace of guilt still hangs over me that I caused all of this in the first place.
Ryker strolls over to the bedroom door and opens it. A man in his late sixties shuffles in looking like he was pulled out of bed in the middle of the night. I’m guessing he was.
“Ryker,” he greets, holding his hand out to him.
“How are you enjoying the new wing of the children's hospital?”
The doctor smiles at Ryker, and I realize we have another one of Ryker’s loyal followers. He’s got his own personal fan club.
“It’s been amazing. We’ll never be able to thank you enough.”
“Take care of my girl, and we’ll call it even.”
“That I can do.” The doctor looks over at me, a smile on his round face.
“She allergic to penicillin, had tubes i
n her ears when she was four and has a small scar under her chin where she fell and hit it on a coffee table at seven. It took five stitches to close it.” Ryker spouts off my medical history and I sit there with my mouth open. “Oh, and her blood type is O positive.”
I brush my fingers under my chin, where I can feel the small scar. I often forget it’s even there, so how does he know? I should be surprised, but I’m not. He knows all there is to know about me, and something about that is endearing. All this time I thought no one cared about me, but he did.
“I know. I read her files when you sent them over last week.” The doctor shakes his head before holding his hand out to me. I reach out to take it, but Ryker moves between us, making the doctor laugh. He drops his hand and smiles softly at my protector. “I’m going to have to touch her.”
Ryker has his arms folded over his chest, but nods. “Fine,” he grits out before coming to sit next to me on the bed.
He watches the doctor as he checks me over and asks me a few questions. He checks everything twice and then determines I’m fine. I might be a little sore for a couple of days, he says, and suggests I take some Advil if I need it. When the doctor says it, I look at Ryker and give him a smug smile, but then remember how worried he was and how he came to my rescue, so I try not to gloat.
After the doctor leaves, I crawl under the warm blankets. Ryker comes to join me but stops when there is another knock at the door. He curses before stomping over to the bedroom door, only opening it a crack.
I sit up when I hear Johnny’s voice.
“Yeah, she’s fine. A little bruised up, but she just needs rest,” Ryker tells him.
Johnny says something that I can’t hear before Ryker closes the door and comes back to bed. He turns the light off and pulls me into his body. I don’t fight him or go stiff in his arms this time. In fact, I turn into his chest and bury my face in his neck. I know he’ll chase away the rest of my fears about what happened tonight, and I selfishly take his comfort.