Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 104165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
It’s difficult to keep still. My buoyant body wants to float up to the top but if I use my arms, I can hold myself down.
I don’t have to try very hard, though. Domhnall’s eyes were closed when I first swam down, but as soon as he opens them and sees me, they immediately widen. He shoves off the bottom, grabbing me by the waist and taking me back to the pool’s surface with him.
“What were you thinking?” he demands. “You could’ve drowned!”
“Domhn.” I grab his face in both my hands and look in his eyes. “Are you back with me?”
He blinks, looking confused but then his eyes settle on mine.
“We need to go in the house so I can see to your back,” I say calmly.
He jerks in my touch at the mention of his back.
Immediately I murmur, “It’s okay. I’m here. Domhn.” Using my hands, I help direct his face back to mine so he can focus just on me. “I’m right here.”
His gaze finally settles back on mine, and he nods, huffing out hard.
We float in the deep end like that for several long moments, breathing. Just breathing. He treads water and I hold his precious face. Dear god, how quickly the coin flips.
When he drops his head into the crook of my neck like a tired child, I clutch him there, running my fingers through his wet hair and rubbing his neck, kicking my feet to keep us up. It’s only when we bob a little in the water that he jerks back and says, “Shit. Let’s get out of the pool.”
I nod, already missing his head against my chest. “Let’s go inside.”
He’s subdued as we swim towards the shallow end and walk up the pool steps. There’s a little outdoor shower and we rinse off, him always keeping his chest to me. Then I hurry over towards the towels on the bench and bring them back. He towels off efficiently.
“Careful!” I say when he starts to swing the towel over his back.
He smiles a sad smile. “It’s really okay. I’ve been like this a very long time.”
Nine years. Is his back ever truly able to heal? How often does he do it? How does he put medicine on or bandage himself? I have so many questions, but I can see how questions just shut him down a moment ago. I want to keep him with me.
I wrap my towel around myself to keep from dripping as we walk back in the house. And, needing some kind of connection with him after that revelation, I slip my small hand into his big one. I can feel his surprise and almost pull my hand away. Before I can, though, his strong fingers close around mine. It makes my chest squeeze with emotion. He holds my hand all the way up to his bedroom.
I only let go so I can jog over to his bathroom. I wash my hands thoroughly first, then start rummaging around for first aid supplies. Domhnall stops in the doorway, elbow up casually against the frame as he watches me. I glance over at him and my breath sweeps out of my lungs. Good lord. He looks like a tattooed god, so gorgeous and muscled.
“Stop distracting me with your sexiness,” I mutter, and go back to opening cabinets under the bathroom counter.
“Says the beautiful woman on her knees in just a towel.”
I roll my eyes. Then I tug open the top drawer in an opaque tower in one of the cabinets and find cotton balls and swabs. Okay, now we’re talking. I keep opening drawers and find antibiotic cream, long bandages, gloves, and medical tape. I snatch them all into my arms as I look back up at Domhn.
“Get the butterfly bandages, too.” His voice has gone monotone. “A drawer down. You might need them.”
I find them, exactly where he says, then order him, “Go lay face down on the bed.”
One of his eyebrows hefts as some life comes back into his face. “Are we playing switch? You’re the dom now?”
I glare at him. “For all intents and purposes, yes. Now be a good boy and go do exactly what I say.”
He looks at the jumble of supplies in my hands and sighs. “If you insist.”
“I do.”
Without another word, he turns and goes back into the bedroom. I follow him out. He’s still got the towel covering his back, but when he reaches the bed, he drops his soggy boxers to the carpet—no doubt intentionally distracting me with his taut ass. He only loses the towel at the last moment before flinging himself face-first down on the bed.
I grimace when I see his angry back again, glad he can’t see my reaction. He’s got his face buried between two pillows.
“Can you breathe in there?” I call.