Breathe with Me (With Me in Seattle, #7)(85)

“I’m sorry.” Her voice is small and shaky. “I panicked. I’ve been panicking all night because I was worried and I was regretting not being with you to take care of you.”

“Yes you did.” Now that she’s with me, truly with me, I feel my own trembles begin. “You scared me too.”

Her hands glide down my arms, then she sits back and takes in my clothes.

“You’re in scrubs.”

“My clothes were ruined.”

“But that was yesterday.” She bites her lip. “You have blood in your h-h-hair.”

“I fell asleep as soon as I got home and I haven’t showered. I bumped my head on the street. Bled like a stuck pig for a little while, but it didn’t need stitches.”

“Can you take a shower now?”

“Yes.”

She stands, takes my hand and leads me to her bathroom. “You should be resting.”

“Now you sound like my mother.”

She blows her nose and turns on the shower then returns to me. “She’s a smart woman.”

“She is. She loves you, you know.”

Fresh tears fill her eyes, but she simply smiles softly and nods. “I love her too. I love all of them.”

They’ll be yours before long, I think and drag my fingertips down her cheek. She grips the hem of the green scrub top in her hands and gently guides it over my head, then unties the drawstring on the matching pants and lets them fall to the floor.

I’m not wearing underwear.

“Me crying turns you on?” she asks in surprise, staring at my semi-hard cock.

“You stripping me down turns me on, Mer. Always.” I chuckle and pull her shirt over her head. “That hasn’t changed since we were seventeen.”

“You’re scraped up pretty good back here,” she says when she makes me turn around. She presses a sweet kiss to my shoulder blade before leading me into the shower. She didn’t set it too hot, not too cold, but just perfect so when it slides over the cuts and scrapes the stinging isn’t too bad.

“I’m going to wash you,” she informs me softly.

“I like it when you take care of me,” I murmur.

Her hands glide gently over my body, cleaning the brown dried blood and dirt from my arms and hands, washing the blood out of my hair, and when all is said and done, and we’re both dry, she examines me one more time.

“See? It’s not so bad now that I’m cleaned up.”

“You must be really sore.”

So f*cking sore.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Come on.” She leads me back to her bedroom, pulls the covers back on her bed and motions for me to lie down.

“It’s mid-afternoon, Mer.”

She simply raises a brow. I sigh and climb onto the bed, and grin happily when she joins me. She picks up my right hand, kisses the scratches on my palm, then cradles her small, smooth cheek, nuzzling my palm. She works her way up my arm to my shoulder, kissing each red spot.

“Are you going to kiss all my boo-boo’s?”

“Yes.”

Finally, she straddles my lap and pushes her fingers into my hair, examining my scalp more closely than any of the nurses or doctors at the hospital did.

“You must have a headache.”

“They gave me something for it,” I reply and close my eyes on a sigh when she continues to soothingly brush my hair with her fingers. “You don’t ever have to stop doing that.”

She kisses my nose and then my forehead. Her warm, smooth, toned body is pressed to mine, her amazing breasts in my face, and I can’t stand it any longer. I glide my hands up her thighs, over her ass and up her back, making her purr low in her throat.

God, that’s a f*cking sexy sound.

My cock twitches against her folds, sliding along her clit. She bites her lip and gazes down at me with lust-filled eyes.

“You’re hurt,” she whispers.

“I’m never too hurt for this.”

I begin to flip our position, but she presses her hands on my shoulders, keeping me in place.

“No. Let me.” She smiles slowly as she lifts up, reaches between us and guides me inside her slowly. God, every single time is like the first time. She’s so f*cking tight and sweet. “Don’t move,” she says.

“That’s impossible.”

“No it’s not.” She leans down to kiss me, caresses my cheeks and neck with her fingertips and begins to circle her hips effortlessly. “I’m sorry I got scared.”

“Don’t leave me again.” Ever.

She shakes her head and kisses me, licks my lower lip and kisses me again, deeper now. My cock pulses inside her. I want to grip onto her hips and drive inside her over and over, but I wait, knowing that she’s comforting us both.

Her hands glide to my arms and she holds on as she begins to ride me. Jesus, I’m not even moving and I’m not going to last.

“God, M,” I mutter. “Your body is amazing.” It’s true. Her firm, round breasts, tight stomach, full hips all make me weak in the knees. But it’s her heart that has had me in its grip for more than a decade.

“Love you,” she whispers and tucks her face in my neck as she picks up speed.

“Can I move now?”