Chapter 40: Bruised - Monet

I stiffen on the bed when Cole lowers his tall body onto the mattress, lying on his stomach. There's a bruise on his left shoulder stretching over his back, and I eye the arnica oil in my hand in horror.

He wants me to put this on him, to touch him. He must not know that I'm actively trying not to put my hands on him. I shouldn't have agreed to come here in the first place, and without Amy at that.

But he's just lying there, no idea about my inner turmoil, with his eyes closed and a small smile playing on his lips.

I must take too long, because his one eye opens. "What are you waiting for? Get on my back."

I would've done this with no hesitation in the past, definitely not thinking how about sculpted his back is, and how low his sweats are on is hips.

So I do it. I straddle his hips, thankful that I'm wearing jeans to act as a barrier between my vagina an his skin, or he might have felt some wetness there.

I pour the oil into my hands, heating it between my palms before applying it to the bruise first.

"Does it hurt?" I ask, my voice tender and way too intimate than what I intended for it to sound.

"Not realy, I just feel stiff, I'll do daily ice baths this week and go the physical therapist for some stretching." He mutters, sounding sleepy.

I lick my lips, continuing to slowly rub the oil into his muscles. "Are you sure this is what you want to do for the rest of your life? It seems like a lot of hits for one body to handle."

"Not my whole life, maybe until thirty-five if I'm lucky." He moans when my hands go to his lower back, the sound making goosebumps break out on my arms. "That feels so good."

I'm gonna have to come up with an excuse or something to get out of here, before I do something fucking stupid like kiss him again. This time he would know it was no innocent kiss, especially since my hands on his oiled back make everything but innocence run through my mind.

I pat his bruised shoulder lightly before getting off him. "All done."

"Thanks." He doesn't open his eyes. "I feel all better now."

"Yeah, you look tired, maybe I should go." I gulp, knowing that leaving right now is the smart thing to do. "I told you you didn't have to get us from the airport this morning."

He sighs sleepily, and turns on his side facing me, giving me an unobstructed view of his cut chest and abdomen. "No, please stay, you know I always sleep better with you around."

My head is screaming at me to abort this mission. Go back to the safety of my dorm where there aren't half naked men lying on their bed looking like sin and debauchery.

But I eye the bruise on his shoulder and back, and the way he played last night like his life was on the line. I could at least lay with him for an hour and he is fast asleep before I go.

"Okay, no screen time." I switch the laptop off and put it on the bedside table. I get up and close the blinds, dimming the light in the room.

Cole gets up, his muscles rippling and his eyes glistening at me as he peels the covers back.

"Would you like a T-shirt or boxers to sleep in? Your bag is still in the truck, I could go down and grab it for you."

Nerves flutter in my stomach, knowing my jeans are too uncomfortable to sleep in, but the last time we were in this position I wasn't wearing any panties and I did unspeakable things.

"Yeah, you could give me some boxers." It's the lesser of evil because the nightie in my bag will definitely not do.

He retrieves a pair of boxers and throws it across the room at me, and I go to the bathroom to change.

Snores come from Luke's bedroom. If Cole looks like that from yesterday's game, I can't imagine how the big guy must feel.

Cole is already under the covers when I return, and I hesitantly get in next to him, knowing that we're making a mistake sleeping with one another like this.

We're no longer the kids talking about their nightmares at midnight, and I no longer look at him like I used to look at that blue eyed boy with the stars on his ceiling.

His arm comes around my middle and pulls me to his body, and I'm grateful that he keeps his crotch away from mine, because my panties are already wet just thinking of other things we could've done instead.

I lie as still as a statue, my eyes wide open, silently gasping when his big hand pulls up my T-shirt and start drawing lazy circles on the skin of my stomach.

We stay like that until the drawing stops, and he breathes deep and slow behind me, quickly falling asleep, leaving me wet with goosebumps all over my skin.

I promise myself this is the last time. I'm not sleeping with him again.

I only have so much restraint.