Relieved to be left alone for a few minutes, Laurie pushed her chair back inch by aching inch. With a low groan, she forced her body to stand up. Moving was pure hell. Agony exploded in every muscle. Tears welled in her eyes but she blinked them away. Trembling, she staggered.
Her knees buckled and she clutched the table for support.
Like a silent miracle, Damien was there. She never heard him come down the stairs. He slipped an arm around her back and the other under her knees and lifted her effortlessly off the floor. She wrapped her arms around his neck and clung as he strode toward the sofa, where he ALWAYS A WARRIOR Patricia Bruening
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lowered her with infinite care to the mattress. He crawled onto the bed and knelt beside her. She stared up at him and tried to roll away. Pain ripped her raw.
“Ow!” she moaned and lay back down. “No, Damien.” She shook her head wildly.
Agony stabbed her neck and her back. She bit back another groan.
“Laurie.” He expelled her name in a sharp breath. “If I had a tub here, I’d make you soak in it. But all I can do is a full body rub. Strip.”
“Damien!” she protested in disbelief.
“If I don’t you won’t be able to move tomorrow, let alone sleep tonight. It will only get worse,” he insisted, his expression unrelenting, despite the sardonic gleam in his eyes. “Don’t worry. I won’t ravish you.”
Sitting up, she groaned and flushed hot at his perception then struggled to take off her shoes. Impatient now, he shoved her fumbling hands aside and deftly removed her shoes and socks.
“I’ll be right back. Get your clothes off.” He disappeared into the tiny bathroom that held only a toilet, sink, and small shower.
Amid grunts and groans, her fingers trembling, she slid off her jeans and pulled her Tshirt over her head. Still in sports bra and panties, she rolled onto her stomach. The mattress dipped and the springs creaked under Damien’s weight. He knelt beside her with an open tube of mentholated muscle rub cream. Strong enough to nearly clear her sinuses, the menthol aroma teased her nostrils.
“Works better without clothes,” he said ironically.
“Improvise,” she shot back weakly. His knee pressed against her hip and his thigh snuggled with hers.
“Afraid?” he taunted.
She said nothing, more afraid of herself than him. He didn’t move and Laurie wondered what he read in her silence. Then the mattress shifted again.
“This is going to hurt at first,” he warned and straddled her hips. He kept his weight off her but warm denim brushed her bare skin.
“Can’t hurt more than it already does,” she countered breathlessly.
He moved her hair aside, exposing the back of her neck. The sharp smell of eucalyptus stung her nose and made her eyes water as his hands covered her shoulders. She flinched, as much from his touch as the lingering throb in her muscles. With fingertips only, he slid the straps of her bra down her upper arms. His palms pressed into her flesh, kneading and prodding. White-hot pain lanced through her. She nearly screamed in agony but clamped her teeth on her lower lip. Tears filled her eyes and she buried her face in the pillow beneath her.
His hands moved lower, slow and sure, pressing and kneading. Sharp bursts of pain exploded everywhere he touched. It took every ounce of will power she possessed not to scream or swear at him. She did mentally curse him to hell and prayed the agony would end soon. But gradually his firm, patient fingers worked magic. His hands glided over her skin, wreaked havoc on her senses, and lulled her into a pleasantly drowsy state. Enjoying his touch, she didn’t want him to stop.
Gripping her shoulder, he rolled her to her back and started all over again. But the pain was gone, his touch more sensual. Eyes closed, she concentrated on the pure pleasure of his hands roaming over her. He shifted position, his denim-clad thighs sliding along her bare legs.
His hands bracket her ribcage, his thumbs just touching the undersides of her breasts. His touch scorched her skin through the thin cotton of her bra.
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“That’s enough.” He stopped abruptly, his words harsh as he jerked his hands from her heated flesh.
Her eyes snapped open and she peered up at him. Desire smoldered deep in his dark eyes and she flushed, filled with pure feminine triumph at putting that hunger in his eyes. He moved off her, glared at her, but said nothing. Cool air across her stomach jerked her back to reality. She swallowed the sudden nervous lump in her throat as his stark gaze raked over her.
“If you don’t move now, I won’t let you go,” he threatened huskily.