Page 195 of Zach
attacked her, and she’s just sitting there, all calm and shit. With a growl, I take her hand and carefully
tug her up, leading her to my bedroom, and push her down to sit on the edge of the bed.
“You’re safe here,” I tell her, heart pounding with panic. She’s hurting, and I hate it. “I made sure
everything’s cotton. Even the area rug’s cotton.” I spin, running into the bathroom and grabbing the
bottles off the shelf, then running back to her. I dump them on the bed next to her. She lifts one, giving
me a searching look.
“I stocked up, after last time. Just in case. But I didn’t think my own fucking couch would bite you.
I’m so sorry. I changed the towels in the kitchen and got rid of a few blankets, but I didn’t even think
about the upholstery. Do you need a bath first? I can run you a bath.” I spin for the bathroom, but her
hand on mine freezes me in place.
She tugs me closer, and I drop to my knees, resting my hands on her thighs. “It’s ok,” she says
softly. “This was a short exposure. It’s not that bad. The lotion will be enough.”
I search her face, looking for any hint that she’s just trying to make me feel better, and don’t find
them. She’s not sweating, the rest of her skin is smooth and pale. My shoulders drop and my head
rolls forward as I realize she’s telling the truth.
She’s ok.
“Ok,” I breathe, “Roll over and lay down, I’ll apply it.”
She quirks her eyebrow. “For real this time? You’re not going to run off again?”
I feel my cheeks heat. “no, I won’t run this time.” She nods and with one arm still over her
breasts, slides back on the bed and lies on her stomach. I grab one of the lotion bottles and squeeze a
swimming pool-sized amount into my palm, then with a long look at her spectacularly rounded ass, I
straddle her. “Do you promise this won’t hurt you?” I ask.
“It won’t hurt. Promise.”
Not sure I believe her, I carefully, with the lightest touch I can manage, spread the lotion over her
lower back where the skin is the reddest. I’m immediately rewarded by her sigh. Encouraged, I
smooth more and more. I’m careful to make sure that every bit of skin gets lotion before I move on to
the next, working in an imaginary grid pattern.
“Zach,” she says softly, “why did you run off that night?”
My hands pause for a second as I register her question. Shaking my head at my stupidity that night,
I smooth a new patch of skin. “I…was struggling with my attraction to you,” I admit. Her back
