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“Can’t handle it?”
“I want,” he said flatly, “to handle every bit of it. Every bit of you. But it’s only been a couple of weeks, and you need to be careful. I’m not sure I could be.”
She sighed. “Showers it is, then.”
He wasn’t sure how he got through the next couple of weeks. Evenings they spent on her couch, the television on but frequently ignored, because kissing was so much nicer. But that same pleasant pastime also made things more difficult, because both of them were going a little crazy with the restrictions her injury put on them.
“Don’t stop,” she’d murmured one night when he’d finally pulled away after they’d ended up lying down on the couch, him halfway atop her, his body aching to take this to its inevitable conclusion.
“I have to. I’m about to lose it here.”
She stroked a hand down his back, ending up cupping his backside. “Feel free.”
His jaw tightened. “Not helping, Roth.”
She sighed and pulled her hand back. “Not fair, either, is it? Expecting you to be the one in control.”
He drew back slightly, distracted. “Careful, you’re sounding awfully patient.”
“I’m learning.” She looked up at him, and then a slow smile curved her mouth, that mouth already plumped and pink from his kisses. “Maybe that’s what this should be. This time before we can…do what we want.”
“What should it be? Besides frustrating as hell?”
The smile widened. “A time to learn. Each other, I mean. So, when I get the all clear, we don’t have to.”
“So we don’t have to fumble around like the kids we used to be?”
“Exactly.”
“You have a lot of trust in my restraint,” he said dryly.
“I have a lot of trust in you,” she corrected. “Which,” she added, “you’ve earned the hard way. Dealing with the old Britt.”
And so they spent the next couple of weeks doing just that, and Cody wouldn’t have traded it for anything, despite the fact that he was as edgy as a bobcat in a thunderstorm. Britt was getting more mobile on the crutches, and was hopeful the doc would let her test a little weight on her ankle soon. And when she came out from the latest appointment and he saw her face, he thought she must have gotten good news.
“You’re smiling. He said yes?” he asked as he held the door for her to exit the office.
“Yes,” she said, and the smile lit up her whole face. “He said yes. With care, of course, and in limited ways, but yes.”
“Limited ways? Like what, walk with only one crutch?”
“We weren’t talking about walking.”
His brow furrowed. “Then what—” It hit him, hard and fast. His eyes widened as he stared at her. “You mean…?”
“Just get us home, will you? Fast.”
He did, so fast he knew even Shane Highwater wouldn’t be able to get him out of the ticket if he got caught. He didn’t care, and Shane wouldn’t anyway.
By the time they got into her bedroom—she allowed him to carry her because it was faster, and this further sign of her own eagerness fired him even higher—he was already so hot and ready it was hard not to shake with it.
He had to take care helping her undress but he shed his own clothes in haste. He helped her get situated, still a little startled that she’d flat-out asked Dr. Reed when she could have sex and how, but beyond delighted at the answer. He could deal with the traditional positions, although he’d be looking forward to one day being ridden by the famous Britt Roth.
For a moment he simply looked at her, at the just-enough curve of her hips, the full, rounded breasts, and oh, yes, those long, lean legs. He vowed one day they’d be wrapped around him as he made her scream for more.
And she was looking at him as if he were some work of art to admire. He couldn’t even begin to describe how that made him feel.
“Slow,” he muttered as he lay down beside her. “It’s the first time, we should go slow.”
