Horse Play (Horse Play #1) (12 page)

My eyes were closed, but I felt Jensen’s hand on my shoulder. “It’s not ridiculous. Call if you need anything.”

As I started drifting off, I was only vaguely aware of Jensen setting a glass on my night table before going back to work. And then there was silence.

Chapter 8. Jensen’s Orders

P
ain shot through my torso as I rolled over, and I awoke in an instant. Instinctively, I wrapped my right arm around myself, holding my ribs gently and pushing myself up with the left. It was dark in my room, which could only mean I’d been asleep for several hours.

“Are you okay?” a gentle voice asked from across my room. When I raised my eyes, I saw Jensen sitting in the rocking chair I kept by the window. The sky outside was lightening as dawn broke over the horizon.

“How long have you been there?” I asked in a raspy voice as I moved to get off the bed.

Jensen was off the chair and at my side in a flash, helping me stand so I didn’t over-exert myself. “Since about eleven?”

“And you were just watching me sleep …” I looked at my alarm clock and realized it was almost five a.m. “… for six hours?”

He shrugged. “Well, not the whole time. I slept.”

“In that chair? That couldn’t have been very comfortable,” I said, stating the obvious.

“I just wanted to be close. In case you needed anything.” Even in the dim lighting in my room, I could make out the blue of his eyes and the strong cut of his jaw. “Do you?”

The silkiness of his voice left me breathless and void of thought. “Do I, what?”

He smiled, the right corner of his mouth curling up. “Need anything?”

I felt like slapping my forehead. How was it that every time he was within a three-inch radius, all brain activity seemed minimal? “Um, yes.”

There was silence, and he cocked an eyebrow while he waited. His left hand was still on my waist. “Yes?” he inquired.

I couldn’t find it in myself to turn away from his intense gaze. The electricity between our bodies hummed, and I found myself not wanting him to stop touching me. “M-my pills?” I hadn’t meant for it to come out in a questioning tone, but having him so close and staring like he was made me nervous.

“Of course. Did you want to lie back down and sleep some more?”

I shook my head as I started to slowly get up, deciding I wasn’t going to even attempt to make my bed today. “No, I’m not really that tired right now. I think I want to go and sit on the couch.”

“Okay, but first,” Jensen started to say before looking down. I followed his gaze and became instantly flustered.

“Holy shit!” I cried. “Where the hell are my pants?”

“You don’t remember?” he asked softly.

I racked my brain, trying to remember taking my pants off. My eyes darted around the room for them and finally landed on them neatly folded on the end of my bed. That’s when I vaguely remembered Jensen’s hands on my stomach as he carefully unfastened them and shimmied them down my legs before covering me up with a blanket.

“Y-you took them off?”

He seemed a little afraid that I was about to lose my shit, because his eyes went wide and he rushed to elaborate. “Only because you asked me to. Madi, you were so doped up on morphine that I couldn’t just leave you unless I knew you were comfortable.”

“Oh yeah,” I whispered. “I kind of remember. It’s all a little hazy, but it’s there. It’s okay.” I dropped my face, but kept my eyes on him through my lashes. “Right?”

“Yeah … as long as
you
think it’s okay.” I nodded my response, which seemed to put him at ease. “Okay, tell me where I can find you some comfortable pants.”

“Um, I have yoga pants in the dresser drawer, second from the top.”

Jensen went to my large dresser and opened the drawer. He pulled out the pair of basic black ones and came back to me. “Do you need help?”

I swallowed thickly, suddenly full of nerves as he offered to help me get dressed. While I wanted to believe I could get dressed myself, the simple fact that I could barely move my arms told me otherwise. “Please? If you don’t mind.”

“Wouldn’t have offered if I did,” he assured me sweetly. Easing me down onto the bed, Jensen knelt in front of me. Our eyes never strayed from each other’s as he lifted my right leg and slipped it into my pants before doing the same to the left. He helped me back to my feet while remaining on his knees, and I held onto his shoulders as he pulled my pants the rest of the way up. His hands touched the outsides of my legs the entire time they moved upward, electrifying my skin.

My pulse quickened, and I took a shuddering breath as I tried to will the sudden ache between my legs to disappear. This man had far too much power over me, and I knew that if I wasn’t careful I would give in to every desire I had.

He pushed himself to his feet slowly. With our bodies within inches of one another’s, I could feel the heat that radiated off of him. I inhaled lightly, my eyes closing halfway as I took in his intoxicating blend of aromas. I could smell the shampoo and soap he had used to wash himself with the day before. That only caused me to remember walking in on him naked, and I felt more warmth spread throughout my body. I also picked up the faint scent of the laundry soap he used to wash the T-shirt he currently wore, and the heavenly smell that was just pure Jensen. The way my feelings had grown for this man after only a few days was so foreign—so wrong. Falling for someone I worked with was something I thought I’d never do again. Not after the way Dane had treated me. It wasn’t worth it.

Or, was it? For the right guy.

Jensen cleared his throat as he looked down into my eyes, his own darkened by desire. “What about your shirt? It’s … still covered in dirt from your fall.” As he spoke, his voice grew low and gravelly. The way it registered in my mind caused my knees to tremble. Jensen noticed this and caught me around the waist, careful not to hurt me any more than I was.

My hands gripped his shoulders as I found my footing again. I nodded slowly, telling him I wanted a fresh shirt as well. My grip on him tightened, my fingers clawing at his shirt when he tried to move away from me. He gave me a gentle squeeze before he tugged at the bottom of my T-shirt. His eyes held mine, silently asking permission to undress me. I swallowed thickly.

Slowly, I raised my arms over my head, drawing in a shallow breath as my left side protested the action, and Jensen removed my shirt. His fingers lightly trailed down both of my arms after he pulled my shirt from them, goose bumps erupting in their wake, and in that moment I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted him to forget everything I said to him two nights ago and just kiss me.

He didn’t, though. No, instead, he cleared his throat and backed up a few steps. “Where can I find you a shirt?” He averted his eyes from me, and I instantly felt rejected. Yes, while I realized I was the one who told him we would never happen, it still stung.

I wrapped my arms around my almost-naked upper body, shielding as much of myself as I could from him should he look. “Same drawer,” I whispered hoarsely, my eyes stinging with tears. The tears weren’t just from the situation, but from the stress the past day’s events had caused on my system. I had no right to cry about Jensen not kissing me; he was only doing as we’d agreed.

After opening the drawer, I watched as he rifled through it in search of a top for me before furrowing his brow. “Um, there are no shirts in here. Where else?”

I slapped my right hand to my forehead in realization. “Ugh! I put them in the laundry the other night and completely forgot about them.”

“So, dryer?” he inquired.

I shook my head. “Nope. Washer. That’s okay,” I said, trying to bend down to pick up yesterday’s shirt from my floor where Jensen had dropped it. Jensen rushed to me and snatched my dirty shirt out of my grasp and wrinkled his nose.

“Forget it.”

My eyes went wide. “Forget my shirt?”

With a chuckle, he left my room. Was he seriously going to make me walk around in my bra and yoga pants? I mean, yeah, I wouldn’t be going anywhere. I was pretty much housebound due to my injuries, but I didn’t want to be stuck in my bra all day. What if my dad stopped by to check on me? I moved toward my door just as Jensen reappeared holding a light blue shirt out.

“Here, you can borrow this. Borrow. Not keep. We clear?” He held out the T-shirt for me, and I took it hesitantly, unfolding it to see what the big deal was.

There, written right across the chest were the words,
“
I’m Giving Her All She’s Got!” My eyes widened as I realized
exactly
what I was holding. Jensen Davis was a closet Trekkie. The quote on the T-shirt was a famous line of Scotty’s. Yeah, the same Scotty who I wanted to beam me up the night I saw Jensen naked.

Deep like
status just increased a few more points as I discovered this hidden gem about Jensen—because, yes, I was also a fan. I mean, I didn’t go around speaking Klingon or going to conventions, but I appreciated the show. Or, I did until the third or fourth spin off. Give me some old school Kirk or Picard any day—though, Chris Pine from the new movie was pretty damn lickable, too.

“Well?” Jensen said, breaking the silence as I continued to stare at the awesome T-shirt I held in my hands. “Aren’t you going to put it on?”

My entire body was vibrating. Not only was I going to be wearing a shirt that belonged to—and smelled like—Jensen, it was a Star Trek T-shirt to boot. There was no way he was going to get this shirt back. He’d have to strip it off my cold, hard body before that was going to happen. Of course, that could be all sorts of kinky fun, as well.

I held the shirt out to Jensen, and he looked at me strangely. “You don’t want to wear it? Look, I know it’s kind of geeky, but just think of it as dirty and not a Star Trek thing.”

“Sooo … You want me to pretend that I’m ‘giving her all she’s got’?” I inquired in my best Scottish accent, cocking my right eyebrow.

Jensen smirked, his eyes dropping to my chest briefly before catching my gaze again. “Hmm,” he pondered for a moment. “I think I’d definitely prefer you to think of it as dirty.”

I laughed and looked back down at the shirt, feeling better about what happened earlier. Sure, everything with Jensen was still complicated …

But maybe it didn’t have to be. Maybe we could just … have fun. Lord knew I wasn’t ready for a relationship yet, and Jensen said he was still trying to get back on his feet. Maybe he didn’t want anything serious, either.

“Could you help me put it on?” I asked quietly, still holding the shirt out to him. When he took it, he turned it around and my mouth dropped open when I realized there was
more
written on the back!

“Oh my God! It
is
a dirty Trekkie T-shirt!” I cried as I read the words,
She can’t take much more of this, Captain!
In my head.

Jensen shook his head. “Pervert,” he accused teasingly with a wink. “Let’s get you dressed so we can go dope you up again.”

Carefully, Jensen slipped the shirt over my head, and I placed my arms in their openings one at a time. Jensen pulled the shirt down the rest of the way. It was big on me, but I didn’t care; it smelled just like him. I was going to be wearing a shirt that smelled like Jensen. All day. Aside from the cracked ribs, I‘d have to rate this day at a ten-point-oh so far. Best. Day. Ever.

“Thanks for the shirt. It’s awesome,” I told him sincerely, looking down at it again. I gasped when I noticed something black on the sleeve, and I almost passed out when I realized what it was. “Holy shit! Is this James Doohan’s signature? Where the hell did you get this?”

Jensen seemed taken aback by my outburst. “You know who James Doohan is?”

“Uh, yeah!” I exclaimed, channeling my inner Valley-Girl. “But that’s not the point! Where did you get this?”

“A convention back in 2001,” he explained with a goofy grin on his face as he scratched the back of his head. He seemed almost nervous. It was sweet. That smile was soon replaced with a serious look. “I wasn’t kidding, Madison. I want it
back
.”

I hugged the shirt gently—which essentially meant I was hugging myself. “We shall see,” I said in a sing-song voice.

“You’re lucky you’re injured,” he informed me, shaking his head. “Come on, I’ll get you fed before I have to go. But don’t think this conversation is over.” Oh, yeah. I was about to score me an autographed-by-Jimmy-Doohan T-shirt. I repeat: Best. Day. Ever. Times a million.

As we walked out to the living room, Jensen stayed close to me, even helped lower me onto the couch before running back to my room to retrieve my fleece blanket. He wrapped it up around me, handed me the TV remote and disappeared into the kitchen to grab me my painkillers and some water. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy his doting on me; it felt nice to have someone care enough to do this for me. Dane never would have.

Smiling, I turned on the TV and started looking through my recorded programs list for something to watch while I vegged out on the couch for the day.

“Here you go,” Jensen announced as he returned with my pills in one hand and a glass of water in the other. I took the pills under Jensen’s watchful eye, and then he was gone again, making an awful lot of racket in the kitchen as he whipped me up something I knew would be delicious.