Caught

24.

Shira sat on the bed and I was changing his dressing. For some reason it was much more difficult than last night. A lot of it had to do with his intent gaze and the way his fingers kept playing with my hair.

The wound looked fine, it didn't seem to be infected, hopefully it would heal without any problems.

I slowly wrapped the bandage around Shira's leg, only lightly touching his thigh with my fingers to avoid causing him unnecessary pain, although the painkillers had obviously worked. I ran my hand down his leg one last time to make sure the bandage was holding.

Shira inhaled sharply and I lifted my head to see his face.

"Does it hurt?"

His blue-grey eyes shone a little, but a smile played on his lips.

"That's not the problem," he looked at me suggestively. I took the hint and lowered my eyes to his lap, where even through the black fabric of his boxer shorts it was obvious what the problem was.

"Don't you know your leg is shot through?" I grinned ironically, trying to hide my embarrassment.

He tilted his head, narrowed his eyes and stared at me in a way that made the blood rush to my face. And not just there.

Without warning, he grabbed me around the waist and pulled me against him. "To stay calm when you touch me like this, I'd have to be dead."

Before I could answer, he pushed my back into the mattress, covered me with his body and locked our lips tightly together.

He kissed me hungrily, his tongue exploring my mouth as his hands found their way under my shirt. He was impatient, eager, as if he couldn't wait any longer.

Shira drew back a little and took off his shirt in one smooth motion, and I quickly followed suit.

And then he was on top of me again, naked skin against naked skin, his mouth on mine. I wrapped my arms around Shira's neck, pulling him as close as I could, and intertwined our legs. His ragged breathing filled my ears, eager fingers sliding over my skin.

I arched my back to meet Shira's touch and carelessly pressed my leg against his injured thigh.

He cried out in pain and moved away. This brought me back to reality.

I sat up and looked into his face. His pupils were dilated, his breathing was shallow and I didn't know if it was from excitement or pain.

"Shira," I breathed, my body tense and eager for his further touches.

However, I found enough self-control to understand that such an activity was not the wisest idea in his condition.

"We can't do that, your injury... We'll wait a few days and then..."

He stopped my protest with a kiss and held me in his arms again.

"In a few days," he whispered, his voice a little hoarse, his breathing rapid, "we won't be together anymore."

"In a few days," his hand slid down my chest to the buttons of my jeans, undoing them deftly, "we'll be enemies again."

"In a few days," the daring fingers touched my most sensitive part and I threw my head back, swallowing a moan, "we could be dead."

The words were brutally honest and cruel. So was our whole desperate situation. But at that moment I didn't care what would happen tomorrow.

Right now there was nothing but Shira.

And if this moment was all we were given, I wanted to make sure I memorised every second of it.

I wanted to remember the taste of Shira's lips, the feel of his skin on mine, the sound of his hoarse voice whispering my name.