Save Me

by Alexandra Page

“I know, I promise to keep my eyes closed. Once you’re standing you can help get one of these dry ones around you,” she says patting one of the towels hanging over her shoulders, her eyes already shut tight.

  I reach out and take her hand, closing my own eyes as I take a deep breath then pull myself up. My eyes open as I feel the towel sliding down my left leg. Ellie jumps as it hits the floor with a loud slap. We both freeze, her out of fear probably, me so I won’t pull her luscious body against my naked one. I want so badly for her to open her eyes and look at me, but I feel like an ass for wanting it, too.

  She let’s go of my hand and feels her way up my arm until she’s touching my chest, then steps closer to me. Making sure we’re both steady first, she pulls one of the towels off her shoulder opening it up, one end in each hand. “You hold this end,” she whispers, holding the end on my right side out to me.

  I take it from her, waiting to see what she’s gonna do with her end. She slowly reaches out with her left hand until it touches my stomach then takes another step closer, nearly putting us skin to skin as she reaches behind my back with her other hand, wrapping the towel around my hips.

  I hold my breath, feeling hers coming out in little pants that cool the wet skin of my chest. Having her this close is such sweet torture. It takes everything in me not to pull her the rest of the way against me, and crush my lips to hers.

  I close my eyes instead, and lean my cheek against her hair as she takes my end of the towel and twists it tightly with the other, securing it snugly to my hips. As soon as she’s done she pulls away, her cheeks stained a beautiful pink as she looks at me with dark hooded eyes. I can’t take anymore.

  “Ellie.” Her name leaves my lips sounding deep and strained, begging her for what, I don’t know. She needs to run, but I want so fucking badly for her to stay.

  Giving me what I want most, she steps closer again, pressing her softness against me. I can’t help but wrap my arm around her to keep her there. She kisses the skin over my heart, not knowing it’s already hers, then leans back to look up at me while reaching up and rubbing her thumb across my cheekbone.

  “How are you doing it?” she asks, searching my eyes for an answer.

  “Doing what?”

  She stretches up towards me until her lips are only a breath away from mine. “Taking away my fears,” she whispers.

  Then she kisses me.

  SET FIRE TO THE RAIN

  ~

  ELLIE

  IF NIK WASN’T HOLDING ME up I’d probably be a puddle on the floor. Just getting to this moment was twenty minutes of pure torture. The most delicious kind of torture. How I kept from throwing that loofah down to rub every inch of his insanely beautiful body with my hands, I’ll never know. I was nearly shaking with the need to do so.

  When I wrapped the towel around him I was hanging by a thread, then he said my name the way he did, a plea and a command all at once, spoken in that deep velvet voice of his. I had no choice but to go to him. My fears melted away all because of him, this beautiful, amazing man who’s holding me so tight, yet so gently, too.

  My heart’s pounding in my ears and my stomach is convinced it’s taken the first plunge on the world’s tallest roller coaster. I’ve suddenly forgotten how to breathe. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more alive than I do right this second, because somewhere inside of me, I know that this moment is going to change my life forever.

  Nik seems to be feeling the same things, because I can feel his heart hammering against his chest through mine, and his whole body shudders when I glide my tongue along the seam of his lips. His breath catches, but he doesn’t let it stop him. Slowly his tongue meets mine, then again and again. I have to fight back tears because he’s being so tender and gentle with me, like I’m the most precious thing he’s ever known.

  My heart clenches painfully. I know if I don’t press for more, I’ll wind up falling to pieces, scaring him to death. I tighten my grip on the back of his neck, and sink my tongue into his mouth before sucking his deeply into mine. I can’t stop the moan that escapes me, and it causes Nik to growl in return.

  Suddenly he goes from sweet and tender to hot and demanding, his hand gripping my hair, tilting me so he has easier access, his lips hard and insistent, taking instead of giving. I’m not going to fall to pieces, I’m going to go up in flames.

  Brandon once told me a man’s kiss is his signature, if that’s the case, Nik’s would read ‘The Master’. If his kiss is even a hint of what sex would be like with him I’m not sure I’m strong enough to survive it. He’d be left to scoop me up off the floor when he was done with me.

  I don’t know why I made us wait so long for this, I was a complete idiot. Now that I’ve tasted him, I don’t think I ever want to stop. From the way he’s kissing me, he doesn’t either. His hands are gripping me just the way I imagined them doing back at the hospital, driving me crazy. I can feel his need for me building with each squeeze they take. Not to mention his not so little friend is making its presence well known between us. He wants me every bit as much as I want him. Then it hits me, he’s using both hands.

  “Nik, your shoulder,” I gasp, as he licks and nibbles his way from my jaw to my neck.

  “Screw my shoulder,” he growls into my ear.

  “You’re…gonna…hurt yourself,” I pant, as he finds that amazing spot between my neck and ear.

  Sure enough, he does, only it’s his leg, not his shoulder. He’s so caught up in our kiss he forgets, and shifts all his weight over onto it. He roars in pain, jumping back from me, stumbling onto his good leg, both of his arms flying out on instinct to help him balance.

  “Oh God! Nik! Here, lean on me!” I beg him, trying to keep him from hurting himself even worse. I hurry and gather him against me as best I can. “I’ve got you. Just breathe, sweetie. Breathe,” I try to soothe him, rubbing my hands over his head and back as he leans his forehead against one shoulder, his arm thrown over the other. The poor thing is heaving and groaning he’s in so much pain.

  Please God don’t let it be broken even worse. Please!

  I hold him up, still whispering to him to breathe through it, until his breathing gets somewhat more even, but with almost all his weight on me it’s a tough job. “Do you think you can stand with the crutch a second? I’ll run get the wheelchair for you?” I ask when I think he may be able to stand it.

  He nods his head where it still rests on my shoulder, but stays silent other than his quick heavy breathing. That’s not good, it would be better if he was cussing a blue streak. It must be really bad if he’s this quiet.

  I stretch my arm out as far as I can without moving him and manage to reach the crutch, then help him get it under his arm. He finally pulls away from me, but his head is still hanging and his breathing is getting erratic again. It breaks my heart seeing him like this. It’s my fault he’s hurting. I take his head in my hands and kiss his temple. “Hang on, I’ll be right back.”

  I run out of the shower as fast as I can with wet feet down the hall to the foyer to get his chair. I’m sure I’m not even gone thirty seconds, but it feels like thirty minutes before I make it back to him. He’s still where I left him, but from the part of his face I can see he’s pale as a ghost.

  Son of a bitch, this is bad!

  I get the chair into the shower, but unfortunately, I can’t get it right behind him, there’s not enough room between him and the shower seat for it to fit. I get it as close as possible then set the brakes. Going up to his right side I lean over so I can see his face, it’s soaking wet. I know that not all of it is from the shower. He’s sweating bullets.

  “Nik, honey, do I need to call an ambulance?” I ask. I’m starting to get really worried.

  He shakes his head short and quick. I know he doesn’t want to go back there, but maybe I should call anyway.

  Shit! I don’t know what to do. I’ll get him in bed first, and see how he’s doing, then call Dr. T. If he thinks we should go, then we’re going whether Nik wa
nts to or not.

  “All right, I got the chair. You think you can get in it, or do you need a few more minutes?” I whisper, brushing his wet hair off his forehead. I only get a slight shake of his head again for an answer. That’s when the smell hits me, and I look down to see he’s thrown up. He had to have done it right when I ran out the door.

  Bless his heart. I can’t stand this! We are never kissing again unless his ass is glued to the bed or a chair!

  I leave him there and go grab a couple of washcloths, wetting them with cold water. I hurry back to him and lay one around his neck, and use the other to wipe his face, hoping the coolness will help some.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispers, as I wipe his mouth to make sure he’s cleaned up.

  “Oh, no, sweetie, no. This is not your fault. I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m so, so sorry. If we can get you to the bed I have some morphine I can give you. Dr. T sent it with me for emergencies. You let me know when you’re ready,” I whisper, still wiping his face.

  My voice is starting to shake and my eyes are blurry with tears, but I refuse to let them fall right now, it will only upset him more, and I’m not having that. Finally, he lifts his head and straightens his body some. I stay where I am, giving him time, but keep fanning him with the washcloth.

  “I think I’m ready,” he whispers.

  I throw the washcloth down, and glue myself to his right side to help him. “The chair is behind you, to the left. We need to turn about ninety degrees, then you can sit, okay?”

  “Yeah,” he groans.

  I help him twist around, and move back one or two steps then ease him into the chair. He’s still pale, sweaty, and keeping himself really stiff, but I see him relax a tiny bit when I get his leg into the leg rest. I moved it so slow it felt like it took twenty minutes to get it there. I had to stop three times so it didn’t get to be too much for him. Thank God, it doesn’t look bent or swollen from what I can see. There isn’t any redness either. All of those make me feel much better.

  I slowly and gently roll him from the bathroom to his bedroom, right up to the side of his bed. As I set the brake he starts to groan.

  “You feeling sick again?” I ask, keeping my voice soft.

  He nods his head one time then leans forward. I grab up the trash can, and sit it between his legs.

  Thank goodness it’s a decent sized one. He won’t have to work to hit it.

  I run back to the bathroom for more wet washcloths, before hurrying back. I spread one out onto his back then fold the other one, and press it to his forehead. We stay like that for several minutes, him groaning, and me waving washcloths to keep them cool–bathing his face, neck, and back with them, too.

  Thank God, the nausea eventually passes and his color begins to come back. When he sits up he leans his head over against my stomach, and lets out an exhausted sigh. I run one hand over his hair, and cup his cheek with the other one. My heart aches for him so much. As bad as things were in the hospital, he never once threw up, or had such bad nausea.

  It has to be the pain pills. I’ll be on the phone the second I get him settled, I’m not having this.

  “You want to try the morphine? Or do you want to get in bed?” I ask, still stroking his hair.

  “Both.”

  “Well, it’s a shot, and Dr. T said it had to go in your hip or thigh, and I have no idea how fast it’ll hit you so we better get you in bed first, okay?” He groans, and pulls off me to sit up. I kiss the top of his head. “Let me get the crutch real quick. We’re not doing this without it,” I tell him, and run to the bathroom. Once I’m back I move the trash can, then squat down and carefully move his leg out of the leg rest, before folding it out of the way. I look up at him, and he looks so pitiful I have to fight back the tears again. “You ready?”

  “Yeah,” he nods, reaching his hand out to me.

  I stand up, and take one step back so I can brace myself then grab his hand. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, then pulls himself up. I quickly give him the crutch, even though all he has to do is turn sideways and sit down. I’m not taking any more chances, especially with how weak he is.

  He stands still as I move the wheelchair out of the way, then I help him turn and sit down. I should probably try and get some clothes on him since he’s still in nothing but a damp towel, but I can’t stand the thought of putting him through it.

  I do put his sling back on. I grabbed it when I got the crutch. At least I can get it on him without making him move. When we get that on, he scoots up the bed a bit while I hold his neck to help ease him all the way down onto the bed. I kiss his head again before going to get the morphine out of our ‘doctor bag’, as Miss Nettie called it.

  I’ve never given anyone a shot in my life, and I’m not looking forward to it, but it’ll stop his pain which is what he needs most right now. But I worry if I’m doing the right thing.

  What if he still has too much of the other meds in his system, and I can’t mix the two? God! I could OD him!

  I go back over to him and stroke his hair. “I’m gonna call Dr. T. real quick, sweetie. I have to know if it’s okay to give this to you since you had the other pain killer. Can you hang on a few more minutes?” I hate like hell to make him wait, but I can’t make this worse. I have to call. He nods so I kiss his forehead, and lay the morphine on the nightstand before going to get the phone. I pace the hallway outside his room while I wait for someone to pick up.

  Dr. T’s nurse answers after three rings. I quickly explain what’s going on. She tells me to hang on a minute, she’ll be right back. When the hold music clicks off it’s Dr. T on the line.

  “Miss Cochran, can you tell me the situation please?” he asks, getting right to the point.

  “Hi, Dr. T. Umm, Nik made the mistake of putting all his weight on his broken leg while we were getting him showered. He’s in terrible pain, and I need to know if I can give him the morphine you sent. He already had a hydro this morning with breakfast, but he threw up all of that when his pain got so bad. Is it safe to give him the morphine? Or do you think I should call an ambulance?” I rush out.

  “How long ago did he take the hydro?” he asks calmly.

  “Ummm, maybe an hour tops.”

  “You may give him the morphine, but only give him half of what is in the syringe. I am going to send a nurse out to check on him within the next few hours. She will have a portable X-ray machine, and can make sure no further damage has been done. I doubt very seriously there has been. She will let me know her assessment, and we will go from there. You did well to call me first. Stay close to the phone, I’ll have the nurse call you for directions. Keep a careful eye on him as well, and call me back if you feel a need to,” he tells me.

  “Okay, thank you so much,” I breathe out shakily.

  “You’re welcome. I will speak with you soon.”

  I lean up against the wall, and fight back my tears again. All of this for one kiss. It was the most amazing one I’ve ever had, but it still wasn’t worth him getting hurt over. I take another deep breath, centering myself, then go back to him.

  He’s lying so still and quiet it looks like he’s asleep, but the tension in his beautiful face tells me he’s not. I brush my fingers over his cheek until he opens his eyes to look up at me.

  “You can have some morphine. Dr. T. is sending a nurse out to check on you, too. Do you have a preference on where I do this?” I ask, not able to keep the shakiness out of my voice.

  “My hip, I guess. Are you okay doing it? I don’t want you having to do it if you don’t want to. I can wait for the nurse,” he tells me, his voice strained.

  “Nik, do you seriously think I’m going to let you lay here in pain when I can make it stop? Miss Nettie showed me how one day when you were sleeping, I’ll be fine,” I say with false bravado. “You’re gonna need to turn to the side so I can get to you though. Do you want some help?”

  He nods, so I work to get him turned onto his right side propping him up with several
pillows. His face stays a tense mask, and he hisses and groans throughout the whole process. Once I get him settled I get one of the washcloths and wipe the sweat from his face and neck down again, then lean over and kiss his cheek. “It’ll be better soon, hang on a few more minutes, sweetie.”

  I stand up and gather my courage. I need to do this for him. All I have to do is pull the towel down his hip a little ways. I could pull it up, and get to where I need to be much easier, but…nope. His gorgeous body is part of the reason we’re in this mess as it is. I grab the syringe and hold it between my teeth then try to gently tug the towel down.

  “Can you pull it loose and leave it laying over me? It’ll be easier for you, and it will stop hurting my hip bone where I’m laying on it, too,” he says looking over at me.

  I freeze for a second, but then reach under him on either side of his slim waist, and slowly pull it loose. Being this close to his nearly naked body again is nerve wracking in a good way, but him being in pain overrides that big time. I make sure none of the towel is under him anymore, but keep him covered.

  Okay, let’s try this again.

  I expose his left hip and tear open the alcohol swab to rub over his skin, then toss it onto the nightstand. I take the syringe out of my mouth and pull the cap off the needle.

  Thank God, it’s a tiny, thin one. I don’t know if I could stick a big one into him.

  I hold it straight up and tap the air out like Miss Nettie showed me, then gently and slowly squeeze the plunger until a drop runs out and over the top. I look down at him, and he’s looking right back at me, his eyes bright with pain. “You ready?” I ask with as much calm as I can muster, even though I feel anything but.

  He nods again, closing his eyes, and relaxing as much as he can into his pillow.

  All right, here we go Ellie, you can do this.

  I pinch some of his hip between the fingers of my left hand, there isn’t an ounce of fat on him. I have to pinch harder than I want to get enough. I lower the needle to just above his skin. “Deep breath,” I tell him, or maybe both of us, and quickly jab it in as gently as possible. He flinches, but stays quiet. “Sorry, sweetie.” I wince while slowly squeezing the plunger until I get half of it in, then quickly slide the needle out.