Page 41 of Trained Royal

He could manage, but he wasn’t going to turn down an offer like that. “Yes, please.”

Kieren opened the door and slipped through. They stood facing each other, both breathing heavier than they needed to. Kieren closed the distance between them and grabbed the hem of Patrick’s T-shirt.

“Take your good arm out first, then let me manoeuvre the fabric over your bad one.”

Within seconds, he was naked from the waist up. “How did you know how to do that?”

“I’ve had to deal with many injuries in my profession.”

Patrick’s heart pounded as he thought of what Kieren often had to do as part of his job. “How many of them were your own?”

****

Chapter 13

Kieren

Too many.

But Kieren didn’t say that. He’d looked after celebrities of all calibres, and several of them had been shot at, driven off roads and all sorts of other random acts of craziness.

“A few.” He folded the T-shirt and put it on the cabinet. “Do you need help with your trousers?”

“I think I can manage them.” Patrick’s voice had lowered, and Kieren tried to breathe through his answering arousal. “Can you take the bandage off for me, though? I don’t want it to get wet.”

Kieren unwrapped the bandage, rolled it back into a ball and put it aside. “Be careful. I’ll wait right outside the door. If you need any help, shout.”

Patrick nodded, and Kieren retreated before he offered more than he should. He rested his head back against the door and closed his eyes. The shower turned on, and he imagined Patrick with water gliding down his muscles. Kieren clenched his hands into fists, tensing his body to stop him from taking what he desperately wanted. He glared at his cock, tenting the joggers he’d put on.

A hiss from the bathroom dulled his heated thoughts, and he tilted his ear to the door.

“Um, Kieren! I need some help.”

Kieren inhaled and entered the bathroom again. The frosted glass of the shower cubicle did nothing to hide Patrick’s body from his gaze. “What’s wrong?” He cleared his throat when his voice came out raspy.

“I can’t squeeze the shampoo from the bottle.”

He stepped closer. “Okay, hand it to me.”

Patrick opened the door with his good hand, then reached for the shampoo. “I need to get a pump-action bottle or something. I know I could do that one-handed,” he grumbled.

Kieren withheld a smile and opened the shampoo, squirting some onto Patrick’s palm.

“Thanks.”

Patrick couldn’t close the shower door because he had shampoo in his hand, so Kieren did, but not until after he saw Patrick’s glare of annoyance. The man would find plenty more things to be annoyed about before he had full control of his hand again.

He stayed in the bathroom but turned his back to the shower to give Patrick some privacy. He knew he’d have to help with the shower gel and possibly even a towel at the end, but he’d let Patrick guide him on what he wanted help with.

“You know, you’ve been very quiet about what happened last week. Do you have questions about anything we did?” Patrick said, his voice slightly distorted by the sound of the water.

Kieren leaned his hip against the cabinet, taking his time to answer. “The only question I really have is what you’re going to use next time. Which, by the way, will not be tomorrow.”

“Yes, it bloody well will be,” Patrick shouted. “It might not be the play I had planned for you, but we will be at the club, and we will be engaged in play of some kind. I just need to think it through.”

“We can postpone.”

“No!”