Stealing the Heart of Mr. Steele

Chapter 22 Cordelial

I am reclining on a chaise lounge on our balcony. Nothing is broken or sprained, but every muscle on the right side of my body feels like it has been sent through a blender. The deep purple bruise tinged on the edges with green covers the entire right side of my body, the w 1. me.

"What are you up to..." Tilly leans over my shoulder. I put a finger to my lips begging her to keep quiet as I point down at the street. "Well hello there Dr. Smexy.

Jude slowly pulls off his wet t-shirt, the edges sticking to his shining bronze flesh, accentuating every curve of his spectacular pectorals.

"Shhhh!!!" I hush her loudly. Jude hasn't noticed me sitting up here watching yet and I don't want her excited shrieks to catch his eye.

I hadn't intended to be a peeping tom, but I couldn't tear my eyes away once he started scrubbing his car with soapy rags looking so wow.

I might be divorced, but I'm not dead.

"Jesus Christ Almighty. Tell me again why you aren't dating him?" Tilly purrs behind me as she walks away. Watching Jude right now, I can't think of a single good answer.

At some point, while I was daydreaming about the possibilities, Jude stopped washing his car and was now looking directly at me with a small smile on his lips. I pick up a nearby book

to cover my face in an attempt to make it look like I was casually reading, and not staring at his wet, almost naked body.

"Good morning, Cordy," he waves, the sun glistening off his wet, well-formed abs.

"Good morning," I wave back, "I'm just getting caught up on a little reading while soaking up some sunshine.."

"Oh good, sunshine and reading are just what you need," he nods in approval. He tilts his head and smiles when he reads the cover.

I flip the book over quickly to see what he is smiling at and almost instantly throw it down. But it is too late, much like Jude standing on the sidewalk below, the picture of the centaur and his lady love are grinning up at me.

I wish the chair cushion could let me sink inside of it and disappear in order to escape my embarrassment.

"Stay right there!" He rushes inside and comes out a few minutes wearing a shirt and holding his medical bag. "Let's take a look at those bruises, shall we."

Tilly gives him a gracious welcome as she opens the door for him. He comes out to the balcony and sets his medical bag down on the table, takes a seat on another chair, and begins removing objects and setting them out. "Come on over, let me take a look at you. I move to sit closer to him and he motions for me to stand, so that he can get a better view. Reaching down, I begin to roll up the bottom of my pants but he stops me.

"If I am going to do a proper assessment, I'll need you to take off your pants," he explains without the slightest trace of innuendo. "It doesn't need to be all the way off, just enough for me to look at the worst of your bruise. The car hit your hip, correct?" I nod, not trusting my words.

"Do I have your consent to help you with your pants?" he asks in a flat even tone, his hands up in the air. He is in professional mode right now. He isn't Jude-he's Doctor Davis making a house call.

"Yes," I gulp.

He gently unbuttons my pants and apologizes as he pulls them down. Even though he is going as slowly and as carefully as he can, it is still absolute agony to feel the fabric brushing over the surface of my damaged skin.

"May I touch your injury?" his hands are back up at his sides again, making it clear that he is not trying to take advantage of the situation.

"Of course, Doctor Davis," I give my permission.

"I'm still just Jude," he reminds me as gently presses his fingers against my sore flesh.

Even though he is acting professionally, the heat of his fingers as they wrap around the inside of my thigh, keeping me stable as he continues his examination, makes something deep within me clench.

I inhale sharply and Jude looks up. "Did I hurt you?"

"No..." I barely manage to say.Content rights by NôvelDr//ama.Org.

What would it feel like to have his hands all over my body? For his very sensitive and skilled fingers to find their path to my most sensitive places. What if one of his fingers

went a bit higher, and kept going until it reached the edges of me, gently stroking my warmth, making me call out in something other than pain?

As he squeezes a tender spot, it feels so good to be touched by anyone, even through the pain. The half- remembered moments of that one night of passion with my ex-husband are no longer enough. I want more. I crave

more.

"Hey Cordy," Tilly breezes past me, grabbing her keys. The washer and dryer are busted and I need to go to work. Can you call the repairman?"

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