ADDICTED

36

I rolled my eyes but helped him dress. His cock pulsed against his underwear and then his pants, straining against the zipper as I fastened it. My tongue felt paper-dry. Every moment I hovered so close to him was another moment my self-control weakened. And God knew I didn't have much to start with.

We didn't discuss his issue. As we made our way to the kitchen, there was a knock at the door. I left James at the coffee maker. Peeking out the window by the door, I saw the handicap adjustment crew van. A man in a pale blue uniform stood on the other side. He was tall, unnecessarily muscular, and wore a friendly smile.

"Hello," I welcomed him. "You're here to install the ramps and things?"

"Yes, ma'am. Mind if I take a look around? See what I need to bring in?"

There was a creak from behind me just as I was about to let him in. James rolled up beside me. His eyes coldly processed the figure in the doorway.

"I already put in a request for what we need," he told the technician. "When I made the appointment, I went through all of this with the rep."

I bit my lip, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. Why was he being so pissy?

The tech nodded good-naturedly. "Yes, sir. I understand. I have all the items you requested in the van. It's just standard ADA protocol that I consult the residence to be sure nothing is missing. If something were to happen to you, we would be liable."

"Makes perfect sense," I assured him. "Come on in."

Grabbing the handlebars on his wheelchair, I pulled James into the kitchen.

He huffed. "Yes, darling, just let strangers into our house."

My heart caught for a moment. I flattened it out with a long breath. "He's here to help. Let him do his job, James." I strolled over to the coffee pot and poured us both mugs. "And it's your house. I'll be going to move my things into storage tonight. I've put it off way too long as is."

"Your storage is here. We've discussed this."

"And I was adamant that this is my choice."

Pulling out the creamer from the fridge, I poured a healthy dollop into my mug and a teaspoon into his. I turned around and offered his. He gave me a brooding look. It was cruelly sexy and I hated him for it.

"You're giving me gray hairs," he said. "I'm not used to being denied, you know."

I placed the mug in his hands and brought my face close to his. The desire—the need—to kiss him nearly overruled me. I lingered just long enough to breathe him in, to let the scent of his toothpaste linger between my cotton lips, and then I pulled back.

"Better drink up, Mr. Muller," I spoke lowly. My hands brought the sugared coffee to my mouth. I breathed in the earthy sweetness to force out his smell. Then I sipped on it. "You have a gala to prepare for."

James' eyes were hooded when I glanced down. Before either of us could dream of something to say, there was a yelp from the living room.

I turned and ran for the other room with his wheelchair nipping at my heels. He was getting damn fast in that thing. My mind thudded as I skid into the living room. I expected to see the worst—the tech chopping Julia up or pinning her down. Instead, he was the one flattened against the wall. James didn't stop like I had, though, and ran right over my bare foot.

"Ow!" I snapped.

His blazing eyes tore away from his sister to me. "What the fuck is going on?"

Julia, who sat on the sofa in a pile of blankets, grinned wickedly. The poor technician was terrified, as white as the name patch on his uniform.

"I didn't see her there," the tech said. "We scared each other."

"I have to say," Julia remarked, "it was much more of a pleasant surprise for me. I thought I was dreaming."

James scoffed. "Christ. If you scream like that again, you'll be the one in the fucking wheelchair."

He stormed out on his two speedy wheels. Hands on hips, I turned to the other two. The tech had at least peeled himself off the wall but still appeared deeply embarrassed. Julia was grinning as sly as ever.

"Don't believe him," Julia told the tech. "He doesn't actually beat me." Then, lowering her voice, she added: "Not to say I don't like a good whipping on the occasion."

"Okay, I think he's heard enough!" I forced an awkward chuckle and squinted at his name tag. "Go on—uh, Billy. Do your consult or whatever."

He nodded gratefully and hurried out of the room, the tips of his ears bright red. Julia laughed.

"Oh, you two are so stuffed up on your sexual tensions you can't even let me have a little fun!" she playfully poured.

I sighed. "Entertain him after work hours. That's all I ask."

While I headed back to the kitchen, I wondered if even I could live up to that standard.