Course of Action: Crossfire. Lindsay McKenna
a bit uncomfortable for me, but don’t worry. I’ll deal with it.”
“You’ve almost seen me naked, Cait,” he teased, leaning back, closing his eyes.
“That’s true. And I know what a man looks like. So, you just lie back and let me get you cleaned up. You’ll feel so much better afterward.”
Dan nodded. “Well, if it gets to be too much—” he pried his eyes open, seeing how flighty Cait had become as she retrieved the towel, wash cloth and soap on the tray “—you can stop at any point. I’ll be okay with that, Cait.”
She gave him an amused look. “Maybe if I was a greenhorn eighteen-year-old I’d have issues, but I’m not eighteen anymore, Dan. We’re adults. We’ll handle this. Now, close your eyes and just enjoy this warm wash cloth and the wonderful scent of Ivory soap. Okay?”
And enjoy her hands on him... Already he could feel himself hardening. He swallowed. “Yeah...okay...but I’m not made of stone...”
He lay back and tried to relax as she soaped down his neck and shoulders, that cloth so soft and warm feeling. He couldn’t help but think this was beyond any fantasy he’d ever had about Cait. And as much as Dan tried, he couldn’t stop his body and mind from thinking of Cait as his lover as her hands skimmed across his powerful chest and torso. It felt as if she was loving him, exploring him, not just washing away the stink. His morphine-laden mind dreamed whether he wanted it to or not.
“Just relax,” Cait said as she moved quickly, washing Dan’s upper body. His eyes were closed, but she could tell that he was affected by her touch. His skin kept tightening where she washed his body. It was pure, unadulterated pleasure to see this man’s body. She hurt inwardly to see the scars, the cuts and old bruises discolored with age. His body was a story of combat. Cait had secretly wanted to touch Dan in this way, a loving way, caressing him. Her throat felt parched as she patted his upper body dry with a soft, white towel. Afterward, she placed another dry towel across him to keep him warm.
As she pulled down the sheet and blankets, positioning them up and over the tent, her heart started hammering. He was erect. This wasn’t anything new to Cait. It happened. But this was Dan, the man she’d secretly loved for so many years. And he wasn’t the average man at all. It sent unexpected heat pooling into her lower body. Cait was well aware that Dan was powerfully masculine, but his arousal made him even more potent.
Feeling shaky inside, her breathing shallow, she quickly began to wash him from the waist down. As her fingers slipped around his erection, she felt him tense and then try to relax. Her heart leaped, and she imagined him inside her. Something told Cait that Dan would be a gentle lover, a man who knew how to please a woman, giving her pleasure, as well, and not just satisfying himself.
Finally she was done washing him. She quickly placed a small towel across his body. She noticed the ugly red welt of the surgery scar and the pins over half his thick, treelike thigh. Cait’s mouth was dry and her heart was hammering with need. Now she ached for him. She’d gone two years without sex. Two years. But this man required more than just physical attention. He was wounded, and she had to control her desire. Easier said than done as her body longed for him to touch her, fill her with himself.
Where was Cait? Dan lay sweating in a pool of pain in his bed, his leg hitched up, and he was unable to move. He hated the catheter and hated being confined to bed. He didn’t sleep at night because of the nightmares about Ben’s death. If he so much as twitched the wrong way, those damn screws would feel as if someone had poured scalding water around each of them, the agony nearly unbearable. He could always opt for more morphine and knock himself out for hours at a time, waking up feeling half-alive. Or half-dead.
He was desperate to see Cait. It had been two days since she’d washed him, blushing the entire time. He didn’t dare tell her how good her hands had felt on him, sick son of a bitch that he was. Even now, he was thinking about sex. With her. But he’d been thinking of that with Cait forever.
It was after dinner and the ward was quieting down. Most of the men were lucky. They were not prisoners to their beds because they’d had their injured legs amputated. They were mobile in their wheelchairs, going for physical therapy daily while he was left alone in an empty ward. He envied them in one way but was glad he still had his leg, so he suffered in silence. Never would he ever take walking for granted again. Or being able to move around. Or getting up and out of bed when he wanted to.
“Hey,” Cait called from the door, walking to his bedside, “how are you doing, Dan?” She automatically slid her hand over his shoulder.
“Cait...you aren’t a dream, are you?” he croaked.
She grinned. “No. Some guys, when they know they’re coming to work with me in PT, have nightmares, though.”
He grunted and turned his head toward her, drinking in her fresh, clean look. Her red hair was gathered into a loose topknot, slightly askew, giving her a girlish look. She was wearing the unflattering light blue scrubs, but they couldn’t hide her willowy body from him. “You’re never a nightmare in my dreams.” Damn, but he was loose lipped. Seeing the surprise flare in her eyes, Dan muttered, “It’s the morphine. Never mind me...” Well, it was a lie, but he didn’t want Cait to realize how much she meant to him. Had always meant to him. His flesh radiated heat where her small, slender hand rested. She was gently grazing her fingertips up and down his forearm, as if to soothe him.
“Really? Dreams about me? Tell me about them?”
Not a chance. They’re X-rated...
He needed to distract her so she forgot what he’d said. He licked his dry lips and gestured weakly toward the nearby table. “I’m thirsty as a horse. Could you?”
“Sure.”
Her hand left his arm and Dan groaned inwardly. He wanted Cait to keep her connection with him. The deep, aching pain in his leg went away when she made contact with him.
Coming back with a glass and straw, she placed it between his lips. “So, you have dreams about me, huh?” She gave him a wicked look, watching his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he chugged eight ounces of water in no time. Pulling the straw from his lips, she felt her breasts tighten. Dan had such a male mouth, chiseled and strong. Cait lost count of how many times she’d dreamed of him kissing her.
“Well,” he muttered, wiping his mouth, “a few. Can I have another glass of water, please?”
Cait returned, sliding the straw between his lips once more. Heat flared in her lower body as her fingertips brushed the corner of his mouth by accident. Instantly, she saw his eyes narrow, the burning look in them startling her. Cait knew the look of a man who wanted his woman. Dan wanted her? Shaken, she held the glass steady as he drank the entire contents.
“You were really thirsty. Why weren’t you drinking through the day?” she asked, pulling the tray over and setting the emptied glass on it.
“I don’t know,” Dan grumbled irritably. He gripped the covers and released them. “I hate being trussed up like a pig going to slaughter.”
Cait smiled softly, coming closer, one hand on his lower arm and the other resting on his shoulder. “It’s very hard, Dan. I wish...I wish I could do something more to help you, but you’re on my appointment list in a little over five weeks from now.”
“You could sleep with me.” He raised his brows, eyeing her hopefully. At first she blinked. And then she flashed that wide smile of hers, eyes dancing with mischief. Dan had joked around with her a lot throughout the years. She thought he was teasing her, but he wasn’t. Still, it was nice to see her reaction. To see the interest in her eyes. There was no other way to interpret what he saw, and it filled him with a rush of hope he didn’t dare think about. “Not every night, of course. But it would sure be nice to have you in my arms, beside me. That way I could forget about my constant pain.”
Cait