She sucked in a breath as a dark shaft of pain stabbed through her back, right between her shoulder blades.
This was impossible.
She couldn’t do it no matter how hard she tried.
“What are you doing?”
She held up the jar of cream, “The burn, it soothes me, well it would if I could get it on.”
“How did you manage to burn yourself there?” he asked.
“Don’t ask,” she shook her head, she wasn’t telling him that embarrassing story.
“Want some help?”
They didn’t know each other all that well and she was topless while he was standing in her bathroom doorway watching her. Still she debated for barely a second. For some reason despite her usual anxieties around men she felt completely comfortable around him, even half naked.
“Thanks,” she handed him the jar.
He took it, then took hold of her shoulders and turned her around. His hands were gentle as they smoothed the cool cream over the nasty burn.
It was finished too soon.
She didn’t want him to stop touching her.
Apparently he felt the same way because his hands lingered on her back, then his fingertips traced their way up up her arms and settled themselves on her shoulders kneading softly.
His eyes met hers.
She read the question in them.
Her lips parted as an answer.
Then he kissed her.