Chapter Ten
Hayden
The flush of her skin. I couldn't get it out of my mind. I found myself coming out of my room more simply to see if I could pull it from her skin again. Compliments on her outfit and staring at her lips. Raking my eyes down her form as she helped me with my physical therapy. A brush of my hand against her ass accidentally if I wheeled a little too close and my breath hot on her ear if I accidentally stumbled getting up from my chair.
And every time, that beautiful blush would creep across her cheeks.
The more time I spent with Grace, the more I wanted to get to know her. I knew a woman like herself would never view me as a man while in that damn chair, but I could settle for her embarrassment until I could treat her the way she deserved. Until I could pin her against the wall and tie her down to my bed.
Oh, the things I would do to her body.
She was captivating, but she was also right. I was having a hard time cleaning myself. Some days were better than others, but I could tell when a part of my body wasn’t being reached the way it should. And the idea of Grace washing me down in a tub or standing with me in a shower was striking.
So, I caved.
“Grace?”
I was met with silence and I furrowed my brow.
“Grace?”
I turned my chair around and wheeled out of my room.
“I’m about to take a bath without your help,” I said. “I might fall and break another hip or something.”
And still, I was met with nothing.
Where was she?
I wheeled into the kitchen and looked around, but she wasn’t there. I wheeled all the way down the hallway to the library, figuring I’d find her with her nose in a book like I had a few times already. But still, she wasn’t there. I wheeled back out to the front door to see if she’d left a note. Maybe she had gone somewhere.
But there wasn’t anything there.
“Grace?”
I heard some shuffling around coming from down the hallway and I wheeled as fast as I could. Was she hurt? Was something wrong? I felt this odd sort of panic rush through me as I wheeled myself into her room. She wasn’t in her bed and she wasn’t on the floor, and as I turned my chair around to go get my cell phone I saw her.
In her bathroom.
Toweling off quickly in the mirror.
Her leg was stuck out and the towel was catching the droplets of water rushing down her soft skin. Her thigh flexed with muscle and her well-defined calves were twitching with every stroke she made. She fluffed out the towel and I recognized the sound. The shifting around I had heard was really her trying to dry her own damn towel off.
And when she shook it, her luxurious breasts bounced with joy.
“Oh my gosh. Mr. Lowell!”
I jerked from my trance and averted my gaze.
“Are you okay?” Grace asked.
“I’m uh… yes. I was looking for you because I wanted to let you know I was about to shower myself.”
“Is it that late already? I’m so sorry. Um… give me some-”
“I’m the one who should be sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude,” I said. “I’ll be in my room waiting for you.”
“Of course. Give me five minutes to… um…”
“Yes, of course. Whatever you need.”
I chanced a peek of her body and found her blushing, and it tugged at my gut. Her chest was flushed and her cheeks were tinted pink, and it lended a beautiful color to the frame of her body. Grace was really a deliciously attractive woman, and I felt the veins of my groin beginning to throb with life. The towel was wrapped tightly around her and the slip slipped right up her thigh. All the way to her hip bone before the dip in her waist disappeared beneath the shadows of the fabric.
I cursed that fabric.
“Five minutes,” Grace said.
Her voice pulled me from my trance and I began to wheel away.
“Five minutes,” I said.
I made my way back to my room and closed the door behind me. I sighed and closed my eyes, allowing my mind to conjure her again. Fuck this wheelchair. Fuck that moment we shared. At any other point in time, I would’ve walked over to her, grabbed fistfuls of her ass, hoisted her onto the bathroom counter, and made her beg for more of me. But I couldn't do any of that. I couldn’t give her anything a woman like her deserved.
Wanted.
Desired.
I was a pathetic excuse of a man, and I had no right to think of such a strong woman in such a sinful way.
Not now anyway.
“Mr. Lowell?”
A knock came at my door and I sighed.
“I’m ready whenever you are.”
“On second thought, I’m getting pretty tired,” I said. “Mind if we leave the shower for the morning?”
There was a beat of silence before I heard her sigh behind the door.
“Do you need help getting into bed?” she asked.
“No,” I said as I hoisted myself from my wheelchair. “I’ve got it.”
“If I hear you fall-”
“I said I’ve got it, Grace.”
That statement was angrier than I wanted it to be and I cursed myself. I heard her sigh again before her light feet padded away. I was an idiot. An idiot with a beautiful woman in his home. I fell into bed and wiggled myself underneath the covers, relegating myself to a night of pain. I didn’t want to exert the energy to take my pain medication and I wasn’t willing to call on Grace to get it for me.
Not after seeing her like that.
Not after being faced with what I could have had I been paying more attention.
Not been on my fucking phone.
Been more aware of my damn surroundings.
“Fuck,” I said with a grunt.
I turned over and beat my fist against my pillow before I laid down. It was going to be a long couple of months.
But if I played my cards right, maybe that could be my present.
Maybe having her in all the way we both deserved could be my prize for cooperating.