Page 11 of BillionHeir

I shake my head a little to clear my thoughts as she loosens the strap on the sling that is holding my shoulder and arm in place.

It is going to be difficult to keep still without the harness, but I think I can manage, especially since Chloe will be available if I need anything.

Just as she said she would, she reaches down and unties the strings that are holding the loose pants I have on.

They start to sag as she steps back and away.

“Okay, I am going to turn around and let you finish. Once you are done, tap me on the shoulder and I will help guide you to the chair.”

I really appreciate that she is letting me keep some semblance of dignity right now.

She could be forcing me to strip down naked in front of her and take some cold clinical shower, but that is not the situation at all.

I don’t feel like a burden this way, and it means something to me that she is letting me have this.

“Done,” I say once I have got all my clothes off. It took longer than I expected, and I am nearly out of breath from the effort, but I did it. There is no doubt that I am going to need one hell of a nap once this is all over with.

“Okay,” she says, her voice sounding thick with the unspoken tension in the room.

So, maybe it is not just me. “I am going to gently hold on to you right here.” I feel her warm hands and soft skin meet my ribcage, sending little prickles of awareness down my body.

I suck in a large gulp of air, doing everything I can to keep my body from reacting to her firm but gentle grasp on my waist.

We walk slowly across the bathroom with her right behind me watching my every step. I am sure she has a great view of my ass right now. I start to chuckle at the thought, but then nearly miss a step, quickly reminding me of the seriousness of this situation.

When we make it to the shower, she comes to stand behind me, narrowly avoiding the steady flow of water. I carefully sit down in the lawn chair, and the feeling of hot water spraying down on my sore body feels even more amazing than I thought it would.

I let out a heavy sigh as the steam starts to build around me and the cascade of heat on my shoulders melts all the tension from the last few days away. Slowly, I let my eyes close and shut out everything around me, focusing on relaxing all my muscles as much as possible.

“I am going to wash your hair now,” Chloe clears her throat from somewhere behind me, reminding me of her presence. “I am going to wash your hair now.”

I feel the thick shampoo land on my head and then her delicate fingers running through my hair, her nails scratching against my scalp.

I tip my head back and lean into the sinful feeling, savoring the way her hands massage and knead in all the right places.

It takes everything in me not to imagine everything else she could be doing with those hands, but I take a deep breath and focus on the hot water pouring over me.

All the tension and pain and guilt run down my back and into the drain, leaving me feeling contented for the first time since I woke up from my accident.

Chloe finishes rinsing the shampoo out of my hair, then hands me a soapy washcloth, allowing me to clean myself instead of doing it for me.

It feels better than I expected getting some of my autonomy back.

Just the simple act of washing myself makes me feel more useful than I have since the accident.

I am used to being a highly independent man, and being so reliant on others is not something I am comfortable with.

It is almost as though she knew that I needed this, and I couldn’t appreciate her more for it.

She steps out of the shower as I wash myself with my one good hand. As difficult as it is, I make sure that every nook and cranny that I can reach is covered in soap suds. By the time I finish, I am exhausted yet satisfied with the thorough job that I have done.

As I let the water rinse the last of the soap off of my body, I watch the water swirl away down the drain, almost transfixed. Without meaning to, I imagine Chloe stepping into the shower with me completely naked, letting the water stream down her smooth body as she dances in front of me .

“Okay, I think you are good to go,” Chloe says, her strained voice snapping me back to reality.

The water turns off, and then I feel a warm, dry towel wrap around my shoulders and another towel land in my lap.

“In this situation, I think the more towels, the better,” she explains.

I am grateful for the extra towel hiding my erection.

I don’t want her to see the hard-on she gave me standing tall and proud as she helps me get dressed.

I think about the last dull accounting meeting I had to sit through as Chloe dries my shoulders and chest, trying my best not to focus on the way her hands feel on my body.

She comes to stand in front of me, her hair and clothes slightly wet from being in the shower with me.

I am suddenly disarmed by how she looks.

With little misty beads of water coating her hair and face, she looks like some kind of water nymph.

Water has soaked through her white T-shirt making it almost transparent.

If I look hard enough, I am pretty sure I can see the outline of her areola and the bump of her nipples.

The more I look at her, the more I notice just how stunning and uniquely beautiful she really is. It takes my breath away.

But it is not just her looks that appeal to me.

If anything, her beauty is second to her kind and compassionate caregiving nature, not to mention her strong will that keeps me at attention.

I have been nothing if not difficult, but she is still here, putting up with me and giving me the care that I need.

Chloe, it seems, has no idea what she is doing to me. She finishes drying what she can, then holds out her hands to help pull me up out of the chair. Ever the professional, she doesn’t so much as glance downward as I stand, keeping her eyes trained on the wall just above my left shoulder.

She helps me turn and walks with me slowly the same way we came in, her hands on my ribs as she guides me into the bedroom where she has already set out a pair of boxer briefs, shorts, and a T-shirt on my bed.

I retain my dignity as best I can while putting on the clothes. Once I am dressed, Chloe helps me put the sling back on my arm so I don’t injure myself in my sleep. By the time we are done, I have never been happier to get back into bed.

Chloe tucks me in, still wet from the shower. She hasn’t complained once, though I know she has got to be uncomfortable. Most women I know would have at least expressed their discomfort, but instead, this woman has just dutifully done her job. There is something admirable in that.

When she turns to leave, I bring my hand up to grab hers just before she is out of reach, running my thumb across the back of her hand as I hold it in mine. “Chloe,” I say, not quite ready for her to go.

“Yes?” she asks, her brows furrowed as she waits for me to continue.

“Thank you.”