Page 54 of Grumpy

She lifted herself to be eye level with him and then turned his head. “Why didn’t you ask for help?”

Grumpy stared into her brown eyes. “Well, in case you haven’t realized this yet, I can be a stubborn bastard.”

Kelly frowned at him. “Yeah, well, I’m half-Jewish. You haven’t met stubborn yet.” She gestured to his chest. “Don’t do this without me again. I can’t threaten you with the silent treatment, because I think you’d enjoy that too much. So if I learn you tried to do this on your own again, I will talk your ear off. And I don’t mean pleasant conversation. I mean, a nonsensical rant that will make your ears bleed. Don’t forget that I also have the ol’ ladies on my side, and they can pick up the slack when my voice gets tired.”

Grumpy’s eye twitched. “You don’t fight fair.”

“Never claimed I would,” she said, returning her attention down to the fasteners. Each one that she undid was both a relief and a twinge to Grumpy. After so long, all the garments adhered to his skin, so it wasn’t like it sagged and fell off with gravity.

Kelly worked to get the other side undone, too. “I can’t tell from your expression if this feels good or not.”

“Bit of both,” he confessed. The itching always increased as blood flow normalized.

Like sock marks, his skin retained a faint grid pattern from the garment’s texture. He didn’t need to look down or in the mirror to know what Kelly was seeing as she lifted the vest-like piece off. The graft sites were a deep red purple of irritated hypertrophic scarring. His pecs were not as damaged as his torso, left side, and back.

To her credit, Kelly didn’t stare. And while he did see pity in the way her mouth turned down and the crinkle of her eyes, he also saw the love and pride she had for him. The three balanced each other out, making the metaphorical spotlight Grumpy felt cast over him dim.

Compared to the rest of him, his hands had taken very little damage. Though scarred, neither required a skin graft. It was a small blessing, allowing him to keep the complete use of his hands. The compression sleeves over his arms were easier to take off than put on. Kelly didn’t need instruction with those, rolling them down to reveal the graft sites and ruined tattoos.

“I’ve always wanted to know. Do your tattoos have meaning to you?”

Grumpy shrugged. “Some of them, like my club tattoo and my service dates. But most of them were just ink therapy.” He pointed to his left side. “It’s no longer there, but that’s where Maddie’s birthday used to be.”

“I almost got a tattoo once.” Kelly made a face as she laid the sleeves on the bathroom counter next to his chest wrap. “But I chickened out at the last minute.”

“They’re not for everyone,” he said, hoping to relay comfort. “But I’ll go with you if you ever change your mind.”

“Maybe.” From her expression, Grumpy didn’t think she was going to. Which was perfectly fine. He’d never pressure her into getting something as permanent as a tattoo. A bad haircut could grow back, but a tattoo was there for life.

Or it was, until you got yourself blown up.

With his upper body now bare, Grumpy stood to remove his pants. Like his shirt, they were loose. He wouldn’t be wearing jeans again for a long while. Oversized Henleys or tees and lounge pants were his wardrobe now, along with his “old man” slippers. Those were still in the bedroom from their earlier make out session.

Kelly knelt in front of him as Grumpy stepped from his navy blue pants. He imagined her kneeling in front of him for an entirely different reason as she reached for the compression sleeves that covered the length of each leg. The scars on his legs were different from that of his upper body. While there were some burns as well, most were donor sites. He didn’t quite understand how they could harvest skin from his thighs and use the healthy tissue to replace the burnt ones—but that was why he was a mechanic and not a doctor.

When he was as naked as she, Kelly looked up at him from the floor. Fuck, those eyes. Grumpy loved how open, how expressive they were. In so many ways, they were opposites. He was used to guarding himself, holding in his emotions like a locked treasure chest. But one look from her, one smile from her, and that lock sprang open.

His dick stood between them, partially erect. Without breaking their locked gazes, Kelly leaned forward. Slowly, almost tentatively, she licked the head of his erection.

A shiver that had nothing to do with the temperature in the room rolled through him. Grumpy reached down, cradling her face between his hands. “Kells, I wasn’t serious before. You in no way owe me a blowjob.”

Kelly, though, shook her head between his hands. “This isn’t about that. This is about wanting to give you pleasure after suffering so much pain.”

Grumpy still hesitated. For the sake of his sanity, they didn’t talk about their pasts, but Grumpy got the impression that she wasn’t used to being as cherished as she deserved in the bedroom. In life, really, but especially in the bedroom. He should be the one offering her such pleasures, but how could he deny her?

“As long as you’re sure,” he said, removing his hands so he didn’t inadvertently lead her mouth back down to his cock.

Kelly reached for a towel. She placed the towel over the closed toilet seat before urging him to sit back down on the edge. He did so while also reaching for another towel to offer to her. With it still folded, Kelly placed it between her knees and the hard tile.

Grumpy ran the back of his fingers down her face. “Do what you want,” he instructed. “But know I’ll be returning the favor very soon.”

* * *

It sounded bad, but Kelly had always hated giving blowjobs in the past. They repeatedly seemed to be expected by the guy she was with. Maybe it was a power thing, or a man thing, who knows, but Kelly always felt less emotionally connected to her partner after oral sex than any other lovemaking act.

And yet as she’d knelt in front of Grumpy to help him remove his leg compressions, she hadn’t felt used or the twisted expectation of the position. Maybe it was the way he’d stared down the length of his body at her, maybe it was his confession that he hated feeling pitied by his friends and family. She’d honestly forgotten about their compromise earlier regarding renting a scooter for him at the museum. All Kelly had considered in that moment was Grumpy’s comfort, his selflessness, and his strength.

Once he was settled, Kelly reached for him. She couldn’t place her other hand on his thigh for balance and ended up putting it on the towel-covered edge of the seat between his legs.