“Christian . . .”

The soft moan dragged me from my sleep. After two rounds of the most unforgettable sex of my life, Mel’s groans had probably etched their way into my gray matter. Smiling, I rolled over, ready for round three. Patting the empty space, moisture dampened my palm.

Sitting bolt upright when I heard another moan, I looked around the dark room. 

“Mel? Where are you?”

“Christian . . .” she choked. “Help . . .” 

Heart racing, I stumbled to my feet, nearly tripping over the body crumpled next to the bed.

“Melody?” My hands slid against her clammy, sweat-soaked skin as I cupped her neck. “What is it?” Alarmed by her blank expression, I barked, “Tell me!”

Knocked from her haze, she blinked.

“J-juice,” she stammered through chattering teeth. “I n-need juice.”

Gazing at the perspiration soaking her heavy cotton T-shirt, I swallowed the panic rising in the back of my throat.

“Hold on.”

Racing to the kitchen, I pulled open the fridge and then grabbed the full bottle of Tropicana. Aiming the spout into the cup I found on the counter, juice splattered everywhere.

Get your shit together.

Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I finally managed to fill the cup. My false confidence drifted away when I rounded the corner of the bedroom and found Mel huddled against the nightstand, her eyes hooded and her arms limp at her sides. 

Crouching, I pressed the mug to her lips. “Drink this, angel.”

Pushing my hand away, sticky orange liquid spilled down the front of her shirt.

“No,” she mumbled, “l-leave me a-alone. I don’t want a shot.”

She continued to babble, too far gone to realize what she was saying.

Gripping the back of her hair loosely, I tilted her face to mine. “Mel, listen to me. You’ve got to drink the juice.”

At the sound of my voice, her unfocused gaze locked on mine.

“There she is,” I said as I lifted the cup to her lips. “Just a couple of swallows, okay?”

Curling her fingers around mine, she grasped the cup and fought to take a few sips. Her body rejected the plan and she coughed, spilling a good bit on her lap.

“It’s okay. It’s just a little juice.” I sifted my digits through her matted hair. “Are you a diabetic?”

Confusion glazed her pretty green eyes as she nodded her head.

After cajoling her to take another drink, I eased her back against the nightstand.

“Where’s your test kit?”

Shaking her head, Mel rasped, “More juice.”

I thought about asking her again, but chances were until the fog cleared she’d fight me. So I nodded, angling the edge of the cup to her lips.

Shaking her head, one small fist held me off as she took the glass with a shaky hand.

“I’m okay,” she mumbled after taking a few tiny sips. “In fifteen minutes . . . I’m okay.” 

Fifteen minutes?

I calculated the number of things that could go wrong in fifteen minutes. Nine hundred seconds. A lifetime.

Lowering my head to examine her face, I found no comfort in her dazed expression.

“Mel, let me take you to the—”

“Fifteen m-minutes,” she repeated, her green eyes pleading. “Please.”

Dropping on my ass, I pulled her onto my lap, and to my surprise, she let me. I pressed my fingers to her wrist, calculating the beats as I held her. 

Fifty-three. Not bad, but not good.

I wedged a knuckle under her chin and then tilted her face to mine. She let me do that too, but she didn’t seem happy about it if her creased brow was any indication.

“Angel, your pulse is a little sluggish. Maybe I should call the doctor.”

The silver threads surrounding her pupils sparked as the fire returned to her gaze. “No. I’m f-fine.”

As the minutes ticked by, Mel’s breathing steadied. Releasing her death grip on my arm, she left half-moon indents from her fingernails on my skin.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, attempting to scoot off my lap. 

“Why don’t you tell me where that test kit is?” I held her in place. “You need to test your sugar.”

Placing a kiss to her temple, I rocked her gently until she finally relented, her shoulders sagging in defeat.

“Black pouch—bathroom drawer,” she whispered.

I pushed to my feet and then slid my arms under her legs to lift her. 

Glaring, she flattened her palm against my chest. “I’ve got it.”

Ignoring her defiance, I scooped her up and placed her on the bed. A small smile curved my lips when she scowled.

Yeah, she was definitely better. 

“Stay put.” I raised a brow. “I mean it. Don’t make me tie you to the bed.”

Jutting her bottom lip out, Mel crossed her arms over her chest as I turned to walk away. I glanced over my shoulder in time to find her creeping toward the edge of the bed. Doubling back, I glared down at her.

She lifted her gaze in surprise, one foot poised to hit the ground,

“I wasn’t joking about tying you up,” I rumbled.

Reluctantly, she retracted her leg.

“Good girl.” Pressing a kiss to her forehead, I warned, “Don’t move.”

Darting into the bathroom, I flipped the switch on the wall, flooding the small space with light. I rooted around in the only drawer, finding the black pouch hidden in the back, like it was a deep, dark secret.

Checking my reflection in the mirror, my hand reflexively went to my side, my fingers digging into the taut flesh covering my ribs. I’d broken two of the damn things almost a year ago, but no evidence remained of the injury.

Diabetic. At twenty-five. 

Daily shots. A restricted diet.

I cringed when I pictured her face at the restaurant.

“It’s just a little sugar.”

The words rang in my ears as my gaze shifted to the orange streak of juice on my chest.

Guilt ridden, I turned off the light.

Entering Mel’s bedroom, I held the black pouch like I had the winning lottery ticket. “Got it!”

My cheery tone evaporated when I spied the empty bed.

Stalking to the dresser, my jaw torqued so tight I thought it would snap, I bit out, “Are you hard of hearing, or is English not your first language? I told you to stay put.”

Clutching a fresh T-shirt, she glowered at me. “I’m all wet. I need a shower.”

Taking her elbow, I guided her to the bed while she did her best to shake off my grip.

“After you test your blood sugar.” 

She snatched the kit from my hand and then dumped the contents on the mattress. “My sugar’s fine. I know my body.”

“Not well enough, apparently.”

I received a cold stare for my trouble. But I didn’t care.

Rubbing the back of my neck, I winced at the pop from the little pen she held to her finger. Instinct kicked in at the sight of the crimson droplet that bubbled from her skin, and I stepped back. 

“Squeamish?” She squeezed the blood onto the test strip and then met my gaze, tilting her chin defiantly. “You don’t have to stay. I got this.”

Chewing the inside of my lip to keep from biting her head off, I turned my attention to the monitor on the small handheld machine.

“All good,” Mel announced when the device beeped.

Gathering the supplies, she shoved them back into the bag. 

I caught her by the wrist. “Are you normal?” 

“Of course I’m normal,” she snapped, her eyes hard enough to bend steel. “I’m just a diabetic.”

“I meant, is your sugar normal?” My thumb traced small circles on her palm. “Just tell me, Melody.”

She dropped on the side of the bed, looking down at her toes. “It’s still a little low.” 

Easing beside her, I laid a tentative hand on her thigh. “What happened?”

“I forgot to take my shot. And, I, um . . .” Her brows drew together. “I was in a hurry, and I mixed up my dosage.”

“How—”

“Because I wasn’t paying attention, all right? I was sleepy.” Swaying when she stood, she placed a balled fist on her hip. “Sorry you had to see it. I’m going to take a shower. You can let yourself out.”

Snaking an arm around her hips before she could get away, I pulled her onto my knee.

“Are you kicking me out?” I rested my chin on her shoulder. “That’s just cold, angel. It’s the middle of the night.”

There was no way I was going to leave her here alone after her little episode. Even if I had to humble myself in the process. 

“Stay if you want.” She pushed to her feet. “I’m taking a shower.”

Weaving as she made her way across the room, she stopped to brace her hand on the doorjamb and take a few deep breaths.

Stubborn.

My chest bumped her back as I followed her to the bathroom.  

“I’m fine,” she insisted. 

“I’m sure you are.” Nibbling her neck, the faint taste of salt lingered on her skin. “I just want to see you naked.”

I felt her quiver, but it wasn’t desire. She was still weak. I maneuvered her against the wall in the bathroom despite her meek protests. Pulling the stained T-shirt over her head, I admonished myself to stay on task when I glimpsed her erect nipples. Apparently, my cock wasn’t as sympathetic to Mel’s plight as the rest of me. One peek at those rose tinted beauties and he was raring to go.

“My shower’s the size of a coffin,” she said, her gaze falling to the tent in my boxers. “So no funny business.”

“Got it. No funny business.”

I looked down at my dick and then up to her face, shrugging when he didn’t obey.

A chuckle tumbled from Mel’s lips as she turned on the water. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

My cock jumped at the sight of her, bent over in only her white cotton panties. I cursed under my breath, annoyed. The fact that I was ready to set the recent harrowing experience aside and bend the little spitfire over the counter unnerved me. I wasn’t some horny teenager. I got more ass than your average guy by double. Hell, triple.

Mel slipped off her panties and then ducked into the shower, where I joined her a few minutes later when my dick finally decided to cooperate.

To say the stall was like a coffin gave coffins a bad name. I prayed I didn’t have to spend the afterlife in someplace this cramped. 

Biting back a groan when Mel’s ass grazed my crotch, I grabbed her hips to keep her from doing it again.

“Are you trying to kill me?” I nipped her shoulder. “There’s only so much I can take. And given the circumstances, you’re not making this any easier.”

“Circumstances?” She spun around—difficult to do in the enclosed space—but she managed. “There are no circumstances. I told you I was fine. If you’re just here to babysit me, you can take your ass—”

Cupping the back of her neck, I crushed my mouth to hers. I couldn’t think of anything else to do to shut her up. That acid tongue of hers tasted a hell of a lot better tangled against mine.

She responded by deepening the kiss. Fighting to gain purchase against my slick body, her legs shook from the effort.

Before I lost all reason, I sank my teeth into her bottom lip. Her eyes flew open and she glared at me. I was getting used to the glare, so I went about my business, squeezing a dollop of shampoo into my hand.

She groaned as I slid my fingers into her hair.

“Feel good?”

Instead of answering, she wiggled closer. I guess she planned on wearing me down.

Massaging her scalp, I brushed a quick kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Later. And you better quit pouting, or I’m going to bite that lip again.”  

“But…” 

Nudging her head under the streaming water, I drowned her protest. She fused her eyes shut to avoid the deluge of soap, her brow furrowed in consternation.

As my fingers traveled the length of her tangled locks to expel the suds, I examined every freckle on her upturned nose. Following the water sluicing down her body, I zeroed in on the small bruise on her stomach where she’d administered the insulin injection. 

Her fingers splayed over the area, knocking me out of my trance. 

“There’s nothing wrong with me,” she insisted, blinking against the water trickling into her eyes. “It’s a condition, not a disease. I can do anything anybody else can do.”

The angry bruise on her unmarred skin told a different story. A painful story. 

“I’m sure you can.” Allowing myself one taste of her sweet mouth, I smiled against her lips. “And in a little while, I’m going to let you prove it.”