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“You okay?” he asked, not letting me change the subject about the almost dirty dream I’d woken up from.
That was when it all came back to me. Not only had they been attentive and sweet, taking care of me, making sure I was eating and taking medication at the right time, but they hadn’t let me lift a finger. When Malcom had come home from the office, he had brought home the best chicken noodle soup I had ever tasted. Soup I had thrown up all over his bed. I winced at the reminder. "You were sleeping pretty hard and mumbling."
“I was?” My face felt red hot. “Umm…” I licked my lips. How could I explain I was about to have a dirty wet dream with him and his best friends?
“Bad dream?” he guessed again, and if I had said something embarrassing in my sleep, I could tell he wasn’t going to tell me.
“No.” I couldn’t get myself to outright lie. Any dream with a hint of them could never be bad. I had no idea how I kept finding myself in these situations with them.
Me in bed or lying on one man or the other. Cuddled close. But I wasn’t complaining. I was also trying not to move away. I had a feeling the moment they knew I was all better, everything would go back to normal.
Or at least that’s what I kept telling myself.
I blinked and realized I’d been staring at Malcom, and he had been watching me back. My eyes dropped to his chest, where I caught myself stroking his chest again, but he cleared his throat. “Honey, my eyes are up here.”
“Shit! Sorry! I don’t know why—" His hand covered mine, and he brought it up to his lips.
“I’m pretty sure I wasn’t complaining, princess.” I swallowed hard.
Princess.
Just like in my dream.
I shivered, and his gaze turned almost molten. I knew he hadn’t missed the way my body reacted to him or the way my nipples were pointing right at him like they were begging for his attention. He’s your boss! a voice shouted in my head. The reminder of how wrong this whole situation was hit me like a brick. I tore my eyes away from his and stared forward. Credits moved across the screen, and I pointed at the TV.
“The movie ended.” I winced at how stupid I must have sounded. Thanks a lot, Captain Obvious.
“Do you want to watch something else?”
“I, umm…” I frowned and avoided looking at him. “I think I should go to bed.”
“Okay, let's,” he said easily. I felt like a goldfish out of water.
“No.” I jumped up and heard something stir next to me. “I should go on my own.”
“But you have a fever."
"I’ll be fine. I, umm…” I felt my own face and quietly took stock of how I felt. I wasn’t cold. I was a little drowsy, probably from how much I had slept, but I didn’t feel any worse for wear. “I think I feel better and?—"
“You need another dose in thirty minutes,” he reminded me.
“I’ll take it,” I promised. I was a grown woman and didn’t need them to give it to me. Well, not that I wouldn’t mind them giving me something else.
“But Ros?—"
“Thank you again for taking care of me,” I interrupted him on purpose.
I knew Malcom.
Or I thought I did.
Before this work week, I wouldn’t have thought he could talk me into much, but the last couple of days, I had seen a completely different side of him. And by doing so, there were one too many boss-employee boundaries that had been crossed.
I knew what it was like to fall asleep in his arms. My eyes dropped to his still bare chest, and my hands rose like I was about to reach for him. Thankfully, I caught myself and crossed my arms in front of me instead.
“Ros—"
“And I’m really sorry for the whole puking in your bed thing and—" I rambled because it's what I did when I was nervous. His muscles clenched and flexed. My eyes dropped to the ground because he didn’t need me ogling him like some kind of cat in heat. “I’ll make sure the bedding is disinfected and clean and—” My words drifted off to nothing when two very masculine, very bare feet appeared in front of me.
