Unbreak My Heart (Unbreak My Heart #1)(69)

Unfortunately, my breasts didn’t get that memo. They were rock-hard and hurt so bad I was in tears. I’d pulled out my breast pump, took one look at it, and realized that that thing wasn’t getting anywhere near the girls when they hurt so bad. According to the nurse, a warm shower was the next best thing, so I’d hopped in and let the hot water run down my body in an attempt to get them to express some milk and give me a little relief. It didn’t seem to be helping.

“Kate?” Shane called, startling me. I hissed when one of my arms brushed the side of my breast. God, it was agony.

“Yeah?” I called out shakily.

“You’ve been in here awhile, baby. Everything okay?” His voice was getting closer.

“Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute,” I called back.

He must have heard something in my voice because, within seconds, he was pushing the curtain back a little and slipping his head inside the steamy shower. “What’s wrong?”

I turned toward him and bit the inside of my cheek as his eyes widened.

“Jesus Christ!” he said. “What the f*ck?”

“Iris isn’t hungry,” I sniffled. “They hurt so bad.”

He popped back outside the curtain and, within moments, was climbing into the shower naked and staring at my breasts.

“Take a good look,” I joked, pointing at the girls. “You’ll never see them this perky again.” The last word was almost a sob, I was so miserable.

“God, they look—”

“Hideous,” I cut in, nodding. The blue veins in my breasts were vivid against the paleness of my skin. It looked like I’d drawn them on with a sharp crayon, giving them a slightly raised look.

“Painful,” he corrected softly. “Did you talk to the nurse?”

“She said to take a hot shower,” I answered in frustration, jerking back when he raised his hand to touch me. “It’s obviously not working. You may want to leave while you can. I haven’t shaved in—God, I don’t even know—and pretty soon these babies are going to completely explode, leaving blood and milk spatter all over the bathroom.”

“I’m pretty sure they won’t explode,” he said in horrified amusement.

“I don’t think I’ll even be able to get Iris latched at this point. They’re going to stay this way forever.” I shook my head. “And I’m getting this awful sense of déjà vu. Haven’t we been here before?”

“Wrong shower,” he replied seriously. “And last time you vomited on my feet.”

“You’re welcome,” I said drily. “God, this is embarrassing.”

“No, the vomit was embarrassing. This isn’t.”

“Equally embarrassing.”

“Nope. Shit, you really haven’t shaved,” he mumbled, looking down.

“God, Shane! Get out!” I hissed, covering up my crotch with my hands and hissing as the insides of my arms pressed against the sides of my breasts.

“Quit that,” he scolded, pulling my arms to the sides, his eyes never leaving me. “Your hair is redder here.”

His fingers brushed against my pubic bone, and my stomach jumped.

“Focus, Dirk Diggler.”

“I’m focused.” His eyes snapped back up to mine. “What do we do?”

“I don’t know! I’ve been in this f*cking shower forever.” I raised my wrinkled hand to his face. “My fingers may never recover.”

He kissed my fingers, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Stay still,” he murmured, lifting his hands to lightly run his fingers over my breasts. It didn’t hurt exactly, but I still held my body tight and motionless—just in case.

“Ouch,” he said softly, looking back up to meet my eyes.

“Is there something worse than ouch?”

“Motherf*cking son of a bitch.”

“Yeah, that pretty much covers it.” I laughed a little.

His fingers slid off my breasts, and he leaned forward slowly to kiss me, wrapping his hands around my back as he did so. I so badly wanted to lean into him, but I knew that would be incredibly painful.

“Stay still,” he reminded me against my lips, then pulled away.

Before I understood what he was doing, his mouth was on one of my nipples. I jerked, but his arms held me immobile as he sucked gently, once, then twice. When he finally pulled back, I watched his mouth turn up into a satisfied smirk. Then he moved to the other breast and did the same thing.

When he was done, I was leaking, and breast milk was running slowly down my torso, mixing in with the cooling water of the shower.

“Holy crap.”

“I fixed it,” he said proudly, lifting his hands to massage my breasts gently.

“Oh my God, it’s starting to feel better already,” I moaned, closing my eyes in relief. “Thank you. That was so weird, but thank you.”

“Why was it weird?” he asked with a laugh, making my eyes pop open.

“You just sucked breast milk from my nipples.”

“As opposed to sucking it from other places?” he asked, raising one eyebrow.

“Uh, no. Breast milk. In your mouth.”

“And?”

“And what? Breast milk in your mouth!” The more I said it, the more my face reddened.