Hawk's Promise

by Nola Cross

  He obeyed, and she reached around and went after his armpits with the soapy puff. It tickled.

  “Lean back a little.”

  Now she applied shampoo to his hair and began to work it through. The swirling pressure of her fingers on his scalp sent a delicious languor through his abs and thigh muscles, making him wish all of a sudden that he could sit down. His eyes drifted closed and the fantasies took over again. He pictured her standing back there, mere inches away, her shirt wet through and plastered to her breasts and flat little belly. Would her nipples show through the light colored fabric? In seconds his body responded to the errant thought, and he was grateful she couldn’t see his cock from where she stood.

  After a moment she detached the handheld shower wand and rinsed his hair clean. Then she set the wand to one side while she applied conditioner and worked it through. Finally, she used the wand again to rinse the conditioner away.

  All the while she treated him as if she was already a nursing professional and he was Joe Patient, keeping her eyes averted and her movements quick and impersonal. He was relieved about that and disappointed at the same time.

  And some immature part of him also began to see the whole scenario as downright amusing. Could he break through that stiff façade of hers, maybe get a rise out of her? Maybe lighten the aching tension between them? The longer they were in the shower together, the more tempting it was to try.

  * * * *

  Desi rinsed the last of the conditioner from Hawk’s hair and then aimed the shower wand at his back. “Lift your arms again.”

  As she reached around to rinse his armpits she marveled anew at her ability to detach herself. She hadn’t been sure at all that she could go through with this, but they’d been together in the shower now for about ten minutes and so far she’d been able to maintain the pretense that she was ignoring his nearly naked body.

  When she’d first pulled the curtain aside and stepped in behind him, she’d been overwhelmed by his masculine presence. Flooded with misgivings, she closed herself in with him and took a deep, fortifying breath.

  I can do this. I can forget my feelings for him and just get the job done.

  She turned the water on and let it run through her fingers, grasping for composure. She wasn’t just half in love with Hawk, she was battling an incredible physical pull toward him. It was like nothing she’d ever experienced before, this desire to touch and explore his body. How twisted was it that she’d be getting to do exactly that as his caregiver?

  It helped that his back was turned toward her. But soon she would have to address his groin area, and she’d need to face him for that.

  She’d given this whole process a lot of thought as she lay in bed this morning. She decided the best way to get him clean down there was to turn her head away, pull out his waistband a bit and insert the head of the shower attachment. He wouldn’t have the benefit of a good soaping, but it would be better than nothing and would leave him refreshed.

  And she wouldn’t need to see or handle anything private in the process.

  It might work.

  “Turn around please.”

  And now they were face to face. In spite of all her mental preparation, Desi’s pulse took off like a scared rabbit. She kept her gaze lowered, focusing on his chest. Here, the tiny spatter burns were almost healed.

  “I’m not going to scrub your chest area,” she told him. “You still have a few little scabs, and I don’t want to disturb them. We’ll need to pat them dry very carefully.”

  “Okay,” he said. She recognized that genial tone of voice.

  She knew if she met his gaze right now he’d be smiling at her in that cocky way, his lips tipped up on one side. It would be bad to have eye contact as this point. Very bad.

  She took another deep breath. “I’m just going to spray your—uh—pelvic region. Okay?”

  “Whatever you say, Nurse Desi.”

  Turning her head away, she felt for his waistband and tugged it toward her just enough to poke the head of the shower wand inside.

  “How’s that?” she asked.

  “Compared to what?” He chuckled this time.

  Oh, he was enjoying this far too much.

  “I mean how’s my aim?”

  “Just perfect. Real nice in fact.” He let out an exaggerated sigh of satisfaction.

  “Hawk! Be serious. I’m trying to get you clean.”

  “And I appreciate it, Dez. I really do. But you might want to move the spray around just a little bit instead of pointing it in the same place for such a long time. If you know what I mean.” He chuckled again.

  “Oh.” Her face heated. “All right.”

  Keeping her gaze averted, she rotated her wrist back and forth a few times to allow the water to hit other surfaces inside his boxers. “Better?”

  “Fine.”

  “I guess that’s it then. Shall we get out?” She retrieved the wand and stepped behind him to hang it in its holder and turn off the water.

  “What about you? Aren’t you going to wash?”

  She chanced a glance in his direction now. Brows lifted, his black eyes sparkled with amusement. He waggled his brows at her in a suggestive manner.

  “For your information, I showered last night. I’ll just need to change clothes when we’re done here.”

  “Smart girl. Has the smart girl figured out yet how she intends to dry my—uh—pelvic region?”

  “As a matter of fact I have,” she said, trying to sound more confident than she felt. The next few minutes would be tricky, but she was determined to get through it without compromising her promise to remain professional.

  She pulled the shower curtain open and stepped out. He followed, his wet boxers dripping onto the bathmat. She was happy now that she’d had the foresight to turn on the small bathroom heater. The room was toasty. Her first concern was getting Hawk dried off and dressed. Meanwhile she’d be standing there in wet clothes while she assisted him.

  She stood behind him. Beginning with his hair, she toweled him dry, moving down his back and stopping at his waistband. Then she did his arms, trying not to marvel too much at the smooth bulge of his biceps. And at last she turned him to face her. Patting ever-so-gently, she dried his chest and then his abs, keeping her gaze averted from his. When his nipples pebbled she told herself he was just a bit chilled. She did her best not to remember how it had felt to touch him there the other day, but a crazy little tingle happened in her belly anyway.

  “What’s next?” His voice was soft.

  She looked up. Oops. Major error. He was staring down at her with the same expression he’d worn in the car yesterday. Intense male attention blazed from his eyes.

  “Nice shirt, Dez.”

  She glanced down at herself and discovered her nipples were poking forward, clearly defined by the wet t-shirt, which was now almost transparent. She gasped and hugged the towel to her chest. What if he thought she’d planned this? That she was teasing him? Oh, she was mortified.

  And all of a sudden she was furious too. He should know better than that. She’d told him she was determined to be professional in her care of him, and she’d meant it! How rude of him to point out her unintentional wardrobe malfunction.

  “That’s none of your business.”

  Ooh! She knew she sounded bitchy, but he’d asked for it. She snatched a second dry towel and wrapped it around herself, tucking the ends in to make a little toga on top of her wet clothes. Then she turned back to him. Straightening to her full height she forced herself to look him in the eye once more.

  “Let’s get this done, okay, Hawk? Can you at least try to be a little bit cooperative?”

  He shrugged, pretending offended innocence. “Hey, princess, I’m totally at your disposal.”

  “Right. Okay, let’s get these bags off your hands.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  When she removed the plastic bags and rubber bands, the bandages beneath were dry.

  “See? It worked.�
�� She couldn’t help feeling pleased with herself.

  “Sarah will be so impressed, she’ll probably give you a gold star.” His eyes twinkled.

  She wanted to smack him so bad. “Shut up and turn back around.”

  Giving an exaggerated sigh, he obeyed.

  Now came the tricky part.

  “Okay, Hawk. I’m going to remove your boxers now and dry your lower half.” In spite of her determination to remain unaffected, her voice came out sounding a little squeaky, not like a professional at all. Had he caught that?

  “Do your thing.”

  Averting her gaze, she hooked her thumbs into the waistband at his sides and bent her knees, pulling downward in a steady motion. The wet underwear peeled away from his hips and then his legs.

  “Lift your left foot.” She trained her gaze on his feet as she worked the boxers off around his toes. “Now your right.” In just a few seconds she had tossed the soggy underwear to one side with a sense of triumph.

  But then she stood back up, and was faced with the sight of his naked butt. His perfect naked butt.

  Oh my.

  He’d shifted his weight to his right leg, causing his right gluteus muscles to tighten. Her thoughts jumped back to the statue of David. Only this man wasn’t carved from stone. His body radiated heat and pent-up male energy. His skin was damp, burnished velvet. She swallowed hard, not trusting herself to speak, as she twisted the bath towel in her hands.

  After a minute he threw a glance at her over his shoulder. “What’s the hold up? I’m getting cold.”

  “Right,” she croaked. She took a deep breath and held her hands further apart, stretching the terrycloth between them. “Okay. I’m just going to buff the back of you dry now.”

  Just pretend you’re drying the statue. No big deal.

  Tentatively, she sawed the towel from side to side across his lower back and then dipped lower. There. This wasn’t so hard, she told herself, as she skimmed the towel over the rounded contours of his butt. This could be a bowling ball or any other spherical surface as far as she was concerned. She was training to be a nurse, after all.

  “Legs together please,” she ordered, her confidence growing. She moved lower, buffing the back of him from thigh to muscled calf to ankle. There was no reason this same technique couldn’t be used for the front of him too, was there?

  Kneeling behind him, she repositioned the towel in front of him and over the tops of his feet, her arms encircling his lower legs. Without saying anything she began buffing from side to side once more, working her way toward his knees. He stood stock-still. Now she was pulling the towel back and forth across his kneecaps.

  And now across his lower thighs.

  Without warning, the air in the room seemed to crackle with electricity. He tensed as she drew the terrycloth higher. When she reached his pelvis the towel no longer skimmed easily over his body. Something of good size seemed to be impeding its movement. Her face heated even more as she understood the problem.

  He cleared his throat. “You about done?”

  “Uh, sorry. I guess that’s good enough,” she said. Close to panic, she tossed the towel away and grabbed the pair of clean, dry boxers laying folded on the vanity. “Put these on.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said.

  Pretending interest in retying her makeshift toga, Desi observed him from the corner of her eye as he held the waistband apart against the backs of his bandaged hands, stepped into the boxers, and worked them up his legs.

  Whew! She blew out a quick breath as he turned toward her, his critical parts at last under wraps. Now that the task was accomplished, she was proud of them both. See? They could make this work. Things didn’t have to get all weird between them.

  She smiled at him. “Okay, let’s get you dressed. Where’s your antiperspirant?”

  After a quick smear in each of his armpits, she took the gray South Bay Classics polo shirt from its hanger and held the bottom open toward him. He stuck his hands through the sleeves, which were stretchy enough to accommodate the bulk of the bandages, and then put his head through the neckhole. She pulled the shirt down over his abs, freeing his hair and adjusting the collar, all business.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  “Now for the pants. Why don’t you lean on my shoulder.”

  One paw resting on her upper back, he steadied himself against her body and put a foot through a leghole, and then the second, as she held his waistband open for him. The strategy worked well and in no time his pants were on.

  Then Desi blanched. She was going to have to zip and button them. Until now, that detail had somehow escaped her. As she hesitated, he gave her a slow, easy smile.

  “These pants aren’t gonna zip themselves, darlin’.”

  “Shut up.” This time she did smack him lightly on the upper arm.

  “Ouch.” He pretended injury then burst out laughing.

  “Stand still!”

  Before she could think about it further, she made a grab for the zipper tab and attempted to pull it upward without hanging on to his pants with her other hand. Of course the thing snagged midway, and she almost gave in to the sudden gale of hysterical giggles that simmered inside her. All at once this whole escapade struck her as absurd. She chanced a sideways peek at him and found him looking back at her, the merriment in his eyes too much to resist. They both dissolved into unrestrained laughter.

  After almost a minute she wound down, holding her aching sides and gasping for air. She forced herself to regain control. “Okay, okay. Stop, will you?”

  “I will if you will.” He gave her a wide-eyed look.

  “You’re not being very helpful, Hawk.”

  “Maybe if you button them first?” he suggested, pointing toward his pants and grinning.

  With fumbling fingers she brought the placket together at his waist and jammed the metal button through the hole, her knuckles grazing his warm belly. He flinched at the contact. But he was right. Buttoning his pants first made zipping them a lot easier. She completed the task, her face and body growing hotter with every passing second. She forced herself to ignore the fact that his man parts were just beneath the fabric she was touching, and that she and Hawk were once again standing just a breath apart.

  When she looked up, his face was right there; the remnants of a smile still played on his lips as he watched her hands at his waistband.

  “Nice work, Dez.”

  Now his gaze bored into hers. She lost all sensation in her lower legs. It was as if she was floating there, suspended by the hungry heat in his eyes. Her pulse was already off the charts, so when he put his bandaged hands on her upper arms and bent his head to take her mouth, she almost swooned.

  She hadn’t meant for this to happen. Really, she hadn’t. She’d been so careful to remain businesslike this whole time, to not allow any sexual component into the procedure. But the laughter they’d just shared must have opened a dangerous door, and now the sweet pressure of his lips swept the rest of her best intentions away.

  He moved forward, pressing into her until she felt the cool edge of the sink against her back. She was pinned there by his weight, and she’d never experienced anything so delicious. She sighed and opened for him, losing herself in the heat and power of his presence. As his tongue swirled inside her mouth she molded her body to his, her hands playing over the hard, smooth muscles covering his ribs and back.

  This was where she belonged. Here in the circle of his strong arms. She had loved him for eleven years, and the longing had gotten even more powerful in these last three days under his roof. And no matter how he might try to discourage her, she was sure he loved her too. It might take some time for him to realize it, but once his hands were healed, she intended to take their relationship to the next level and make him see that she wasn’t a child any longer.

  Their tongues met. He gave a broken groan and stroked deeper into her mouth, driving all thought from her mind. Her body was on fire; her nipples ached. Raw desire flutt
ered in her belly, just below the place where the firm ridge of his erection nestled into her. She shifted, experimentally rubbing herself against him, and he groaned again. For a moment the rhythm of his tongue increased, sliding over hers in a suggestive dance, and then he pulled away.

  He stared down at her, his breath coming in ragged bursts, his eyes endless dark pools of arousal. All the amusement had left his expression. “God, Dez, I thought we—”

  “I know. You don’t have to say anything. I shouldn’t have…”

  “Shouldn’t have what?” A line formed between his brows.

  “You know.” She felt her cheeks get even warmer. “I shouldn’t have moved like that. Or kissed you back. We agreed this isn’t a good idea. I’m sorry.”

  What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she stay strong? She was mortified that she kept sending him such mixed signals. And even more mortified to realize how much she’d enjoyed the response of his body when she’d wriggled herself against him just now. She’d discovered a heady sense of personal female power she’d never experienced before.

  But it was so not going to happen again. Not until his hands were healed.

  For the present she had a job to do, and that was her first concern. She was determined to be the competent helper he needed right now.

  “Totally my fault,” he muttered. He lifted his hands from her shoulders and stepped back. His expression closed down, his mouth settling into a hard line. “It won’t happen again. We should get going. I told Miguel I’d be at the garage by noon.”

  Chapter 13

  When they parked at the curb near South Bay Classics at a quarter ’til twelve, Hawk breathed a sigh of relief. The short ride had been about as comfortable as his first bandage change. Desi hadn’t spoken a word except to ask where to park, and the heavy silence in the little car heightened the awkward tension that still sizzled between them.

  He fidgeted, waiting for her to undo his seatbelt and come around to open his door. He should be focusing on what he would be going over with Miguel and the guys, but instead he’d spent the entire drive with his mind replaying an endless loop of those few minutes of exquisite torture in the bathroom.