shot up in bed. The black of the room was like the blindfold all over. Her breaths hurt as her lungs attempted to take in as much air as possible. To ground her in reality. It was with great relief she realized the itching was still her skin, not that burning, mad desire and shame from the memory. She sighed, allowing herself to relax, thankful to not be with those men.
She also hated that she was alone.
A subtle shift on the bed, though, reminded her she wasn’t alone. Beside her, J.B. was already up, his hand on her forehead. “Jesus, Maple, you’re burning up.”
Parched, Maple gritted out an apology.
“What the hell are you apologizing for?” A lamp clicked on and the room was flooded with light. “You’re still sick. You were talking in your sleep. Fever dreams.” J.B. had pajama bottoms on and nothing else. The soft yellow illuminated his abs and the dark dusting of hair on his chest.
More like fever nightmares. Maple ran her hands over her arms and legs, verifying they were free. Wishing they were bound for J.B. She didn’t dare ask what she’d said in her sleep.
He came back with water and some pills. He noticed that she was lightly scratching at her skin. “Stop that,” he warned, “Or I’ll have to restrain you again.”
The blush that stole through her felt like wildfire. Maple’s mouth parted and her nipples tightened. J.B. must have seen her response. He took a quick step back, head shaking. His hands went in front of him. “Whoa,” he whispered, like she was a spooked horse. “Whoa.” The second ‘whoa’ sounded more for him, but Maple was still wrapped in the clutches of her dream. With J.B., it felt like she was always looking for things that weren’t there. It was torture.
It horrified her that she couldn’t keep herself hidden anymore. Her body, that needy, despicable Judas, was betraying her. Signaling her darkest needs. The knowledge that J.B. saw it all, knew it all, made her want to vomit.
“I’m sorry, J.B., I’m not sure what’s wrong with me--” Maple felt a rush, an inescapable need to apologize.
“You’re still sick, that’s what.”
“No, that’s not it. The way I’m acting... I just don’t want you to think poorly of me.”
He stepped forward, hesitating, not quite able to come to her side. A wall was between them, one Maple knew she had built. It had needed to go in her brain, to cover Tony back up, and instead she was laying it brick by brick between herself and J.B.
He was her boss, so the wall shouldn’t matter.
He’d saved her life, so she couldn’t stand the distance.
She wanted him so badly it hurt, a marrow-deep ache that she couldn’t shake. The darkness in him called to its counterpart in her.
“I think I’m ready to go back to my room,” she sighed. She’d been in his room for too long. The swelling was gone. The fever and nausea were all that remained. Maple felt weak, and not just physically. Being this close to J.B. was a lure, and she was scarily close to biting. If she hadn’t made him hate her yet, that surely would be the beginning of the end.
Fuck, why did things have to be so hard?
He nodded. “I reckon that’s a good decision.”
He sounded so sure it stung, despite being her idea. After her fever went down, he led her back to her room. J.B. set out some water. His fingers trailed on her comforter. He moved to the doorway, hovering in the dark.
“Rest until you’re ready for work. Don’t push yourself. Ask Mariela for anything you need.”
She nodded, sinking further under the covers. It hurt too much to look at him, to know that she’d been as close as she was going to be with J.B. and now it was over.
“I’m--” he paused and her heart leapt. “I’m sorry you got hurt.”
She wasn’t sure if he was talking about the rattlesnake or her feelings. It didn’t really matter, did it? The door still clicked shut
She also hated that she was alone.
A subtle shift on the bed, though, reminded her she wasn’t alone. Beside her, J.B. was already up, his hand on her forehead. “Jesus, Maple, you’re burning up.”
Parched, Maple gritted out an apology.
“What the hell are you apologizing for?” A lamp clicked on and the room was flooded with light. “You’re still sick. You were talking in your sleep. Fever dreams.” J.B. had pajama bottoms on and nothing else. The soft yellow illuminated his abs and the dark dusting of hair on his chest.
More like fever nightmares. Maple ran her hands over her arms and legs, verifying they were free. Wishing they were bound for J.B. She didn’t dare ask what she’d said in her sleep.
He came back with water and some pills. He noticed that she was lightly scratching at her skin. “Stop that,” he warned, “Or I’ll have to restrain you again.”
The blush that stole through her felt like wildfire. Maple’s mouth parted and her nipples tightened. J.B. must have seen her response. He took a quick step back, head shaking. His hands went in front of him. “Whoa,” he whispered, like she was a spooked horse. “Whoa.” The second ‘whoa’ sounded more for him, but Maple was still wrapped in the clutches of her dream. With J.B., it felt like she was always looking for things that weren’t there. It was torture.
It horrified her that she couldn’t keep herself hidden anymore. Her body, that needy, despicable Judas, was betraying her. Signaling her darkest needs. The knowledge that J.B. saw it all, knew it all, made her want to vomit.
“I’m sorry, J.B., I’m not sure what’s wrong with me--” Maple felt a rush, an inescapable need to apologize.
“You’re still sick, that’s what.”
“No, that’s not it. The way I’m acting... I just don’t want you to think poorly of me.”
He stepped forward, hesitating, not quite able to come to her side. A wall was between them, one Maple knew she had built. It had needed to go in her brain, to cover Tony back up, and instead she was laying it brick by brick between herself and J.B.
He was her boss, so the wall shouldn’t matter.
He’d saved her life, so she couldn’t stand the distance.
She wanted him so badly it hurt, a marrow-deep ache that she couldn’t shake. The darkness in him called to its counterpart in her.
“I think I’m ready to go back to my room,” she sighed. She’d been in his room for too long. The swelling was gone. The fever and nausea were all that remained. Maple felt weak, and not just physically. Being this close to J.B. was a lure, and she was scarily close to biting. If she hadn’t made him hate her yet, that surely would be the beginning of the end.
Fuck, why did things have to be so hard?
He nodded. “I reckon that’s a good decision.”
He sounded so sure it stung, despite being her idea. After her fever went down, he led her back to her room. J.B. set out some water. His fingers trailed on her comforter. He moved to the doorway, hovering in the dark.
“Rest until you’re ready for work. Don’t push yourself. Ask Mariela for anything you need.”
She nodded, sinking further under the covers. It hurt too much to look at him, to know that she’d been as close as she was going to be with J.B. and now it was over.
“I’m--” he paused and her heart leapt. “I’m sorry you got hurt.”
She wasn’t sure if he was talking about the rattlesnake or her feelings. It didn’t really matter, did it? The door still clicked shut
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