I rush around the condo as fast as I can on crutches. They slow me down, even when I know where everything is and how long it should take me to do something. It’s frustrating; I didn’t realize how much I take walking for granted until I couldn’t do it. Kyle is going to be back from class any minute and I’m nowhere near ready to leave for the doctor. Showers take longer. And getting dressed…that’s the worst.

I should have gotten things ready last night after I got home from Kyle’s game, but was too amped up. I immediately sat down at the computer and looked at the photos we had taken. And noticed what we missed. There were half-shots and blurs everywhere. I know it’s action photography, but I couldn’t get close enough and I didn’t use the remote cameras efficiently.

I need a better plan. I was so disappointed with the pictures that I went straight to bed, without even noticing what time Kyle came home. All I know is that he didn’t sleep in the bed with me. My only clues that he was even here this morning were the remnants of a pot of coffee and the smell of toast that lingered in the kitchen.

This is just a temporary situation. When I get my cast today, I’ll finally be more secure in my mobility and will be able to get better shots. Everything seems to be healing. I removed the wrap last night before bed to let my leg and stitches air out. My skin is all mottled and yellowing with bruises that are healing.

It’s only been a week since my surgery, but I’m healthy. I work out a few days a week, and usually heal fast. The pain in my ribs has subsided, and I’m only getting headaches every other day now. They don’t last long, thank god. I hurry to grab the rest of my things when I hear keys jangling in the lock.

“Aran, I’m here. Are you ready?” he calls.

I grab my purse and strap it across my body, making my way into the living room.

“Yes. I’m a mess, but let’s go. Thanks for taking me,” I repeat again for something like the tenth time in the last two days.

“Stop thanking me,” he growls. “It’s my duty, since I’m the one that caused this mess.”

“Wow. Now I’m a duty. Great,” I drawl. I hobble through the door and leave him to chase after me all the way to the car.

“Aran, that was a poor choice of words, and you know it. This uproots my life just as much as it does yours. I’m not complaining. We’re doing this together, because this happened to both of us together,” he says, stopping to catch his breath and open the door for me that’s locked. “And besides, I kinda like staying farther away from campus. It’s quiet here. Plus, it’s got other perks too.” He winks at me, with a Cheshire-cat grin that makes me think back to what he did to me. God, even thinking about it makes my panties wet.

Saturday night was amazing. Best non-sex I’ve ever had. His tongue performed a Cirgue-du-Soleil act on my pussy. We watched a steamy movie after that, and then he kissed me breathless for two more hours, fingering me until I begged him to fuck me, but he wouldn’t. Multiple orgasms wore me out, and my meds kicked in. I don’t even remember falling asleep.

This man. He’s got me tied up in knots already, but I’m not allowed to fall in love with him. I’ve already seriously fallen in “like” with him. He’s sensitive even though he won’t admit it; he’s confident, funny, and smart. Not to mention he’s just fucking beautiful. Every time I look at that strong jaw, I remember what the roughness of his beard feels like on the insides of my thighs. Then those honey-colored eyes!

I’m probably staring at him, but I can’t help it. My eyes fall to his mouth. I swear those lips were made to eat pussy. It’s a talent, and he’s got it in spades. My panties are drenched thinking about what he can do.

“You alright over there?” he asks smiling, probably wondering why I’m squirming around in my seat.

“Yeah, I was just thinking about Saturday night,” I admit. There’s no sense in hiding from it or lying to him.

“And what were you thinking about Saturday night?” he asks, turning to face me and raising his eyebrow in question.

“God, don’t do the eyebrow-raising thing to me,” I beg. “It’s sexy as fuck and my panties are already wet. I don’t know how long I’m going to have to sit in this appointment thinking about your tongue on me and wondering how long I have to wait until that happens again.”

“Do you need me to pull over and service you now, before the appointment?” he asks teasingly. “We’ll be late, but it’ll be worth it.” His hand is scorching the skin on my thigh.

“It’s not funny,” I squeal. “My own thoughts are wreaking havoc on my body right now, and you just want to make fun of me.”

“Oh, I’m not making fun of you. I wanna slam you against the wall and fuck you senseless, but I can’t,” he says.

The car comes to a stop and I realize we’ve arrived. Fucking piss-poor timing. The last thing I want to do is go in there all hot and bothered, but I have to. He comes around to open my door. He grabs my crutches and hands them to me so that I can push myself out of his car. Once I’m standing, he grabs the sides of my face and slams his mouth on mine, licking my lips until I open them to him. He slides his hands around to my neck and grabs the underside of my hair, holding it tightly while he devours my mouth.

I sway into him and grab hold of his bottom shirt hem to hold myself up. My knees almost buckle a few seconds into the kiss. He breaks the kiss and wipes a thumb across my lips.

“Will that hold you over until we get home?” he asks.

I can’t even speak, but nod in agreement.

The doctor’s office is on the 9th floor of the St. Vincent Medical Arts Building. He escorts me upstairs, carrying my purse for me. My arm pits are just starting to heal from the initial constant banging they received from the crutch pad. They’re finally starting to adapt to them.

After a brief wait in the room for the doctor, he declares that he’s pleased with how well the incision is healing, and then leaves me with the cast specialist. She lets me choose the color of cast I want, so I choose blue and yellow to match the Golden Bears uniforms. I might as well show some team spirit if I have to wear this thing for a few months. Kyle shakes his head in disbelief, but smiles at my choice. She finishes up, and leaves the room for a few minutes, giving the cast time to set before letting us leave.

“You know,” he taunts, taking my hand and placing it on his hard dick, “I know you were wet when we came in, and I’ve been sitting here with a fucking hard-on thinking about that.”

Holy shit. It is hard as steel. I rub my hand up and down it through his shorts. His baggy shirt has been hiding it. I swallow hard and release a quiet whimper. He leans into me and nips at my lips several times, teasing me. The door handle jostles and he steps back as the cast tech enters the room.

“Okay, you should be good to go,” she says after she knocks on the cast, checking to make sure it’s set. She hands me a cast-care instruction sheet and sends us on our way. I scoot to the edge of the table, and my lower leg feels like it weighs a ton. Kyle helps place my crutches under my shoulders, but I’m hesitant to move forward. I’m afraid now. My injury has better protection on it, but I feel off balance again.

“It’s just another challenge, Aran,” he whispers in my ear. “I know you can do this. You’re one of the strongest women I know.” He places a steadying hand on my lower back, infusing me with confidence. Taking a deep breath, I shuffle forward with small steps and try to swing my body again as I’d learned to do with just the bandages. By the time we get to the main elevator, I’m exhausted.

“We’ll take as many breaks as you need to,” he says on the ride down. “You’re simply testing the strength of your non-dominant leg. You’ll build it up in no time out of necessity. I promise. But you’re gonna have to maintain your quad muscles on your injured leg to help you in PT when that time comes.” He gives me this earnest look, like he knows from experience. I nod to let him know I heard him, and lay my head back to rest before the long walk into my condo.

We arrive back home, but instead of handing me my crutches, he bends and pulls me gently over his shoulder, slaps me playfully on the ass, and carries me up the stairs. I’m too shocked to do anything until we’re almost there. I must look exhausted for him to take that much pity on me.

“You can’t keep carrying me everywhere. You’re gonna hurt yourself and not be able to play ball,” I mean to be stern but when he turns his head and nips me on the leg, I can’t keep from laughing.

He unlocks my door with one hand and enters the apartment. “I will carry you through this weakness until you are strong enough to carry yourself. And if that never happens, then just learn to hold on tight,” he murmurs into my ear as he places me down on the kitchen counter. This seems to be his usual spot for me. He turns to walk away, but I grab the tail of his shirt and pull him back to me. He turns and gently cups my face in his hands and rubs my lips with his thumb.

“I want you to know how much I appreciate you staying here and taking care of me, even though you don’t have to. You’ve catered to my every need, and I’ve given you nothing in return,” I admit nervously. All the butterflies in my stomach are going crazy right now. It seems like we’re on the brink of a change, and I know it’s going to create these feelings that I’ll have to forget.

I reach forward and hug him tight to me. The need to hold him and not let go is overwhelming me. I think I stunned him because he’s stiff as a board. “You can hug me, you know,” I tell him. He doesn’t hug me, but slides his hands under my ass on the counter and lifts me up. I wrap my legs around his back and hold onto those powerful shoulders as he carries me into the bedroom. A girl could really get used to this.

He lays me gently on the bed, mindful of the pain that lingers in my ribs, then steps back and takes his shoes off. I push back farther on the bed and lean on my elbows to watch the show he’s putting on. He unbuttons his shirt and tosses it to the floor, and pulls his t-shirt over his head. I admire the corded muscles of his upper torso, and am almost hypnotized by the way they slide under his skin as he pushes his basketball shorts down.

My eyes widen and I smile hungrily. His boxer briefs conform to outline of his hard cock and all I can think about is having him inside me. He slowly crawls up the bed toward me and kisses his way up my inner thigh until he reaches the barrier of my shorts. He nips at my clit through the fabric and I feel like I’m going to explode, then he moves on up my body. His teeth grab the bottom hem of my t-shirt and lift it upward, away from the string on my shorts. He unties them and peels my panties and my shorts down my leg with one hand, brushing my clit as he does, and gently eases them over my cast.

I groan as my panties pull away from my clit. My uterus contracts sharply and all I can think about is getting his dick inside me. I’ve never experienced an orgasm just from being stripped, but I’m about to. Come is running down my ass and onto the sheets. He’s hot as fuck and as horny as I am; pre-cum rolls slowly off the head of his hard dick as he stares at my naked body.