A smile—no, it wasn’t quite a smile—tipped the corners of her mouth, giving her a look that said she was thinking about something pleasing.
“We’ve hit a new phase of your withdrawals. Speed talking.”
“Oh my. Your voice. Wow. It reminds me of dark chocolate, a hot bath, and sex and—”
“Apparently your mental filter is malfunctioning.”
“—sweaty, dirty, hard fucking.”
Holy Christ. Just the words sex, sweaty, and dirty had his dick going all skyscraper inside his jeans, but when she said hard fucking, he blacked out for a moment. When his mind came back online, it decided to flash him images of what sweaty, dirty, hard fucking would look like with her. Her nipples brushing against his chest as he rammed into her with a pace and depth and exuberance he’d never experienced.
He needed to change the subject, but couldn’t remember how to get his mouth to form words. He might’ve swallowed his damned tongue.
“Why do you suppose your voice sounds like sex on a summer day? It’s because I’m horny. I haven’t had sex in five years. That’s a long time, you know. I have needs.”
He finally figured out how to flap his lips, while making sound to form actual words. Maybe he’d had a stroke. “Jesus Christ, woman.” The words exploded out of him. “You’ve got to stop talking about sex.” He scrubbed his hand over his eyes, trying to wipe out the mental images that still played. “You’re speaking every single thought that floats into your mind. No goddamned censor. It’s gotta be the meds or the shock treatments causing it. Something.”
Her bottom lip pushed out in an utterly inappropriate—but adorably kissable—pout. “I don’t see anything wrong with talking about how I feel. Maybe that’s why I can’t get out of this place. I won’t open up. Won’t let Dr. Payne-in-My-Ass into my mind. Maybe if I—”
“Christ on a crapper. You’ve got to stop for a moment.” She opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her off. “I need you to listen for thirty seconds. A minute tops. Then you can talk about sex, Dr. Payne, and your feelings all you want.”
“You can’t go putting sex, Dr. Payne, and my feelings in the same sentence. Wrong. So wrong.”
“Won’t argue about that. But I need you to keep your lips closed.”
Pain pinched her features as she lifted her hands, placing them over her mouth. It should have been a comical gesture, but all Cain could see was her hurting. It had been five days since Dr. Payne had injured her, and the fact that her body still suffered scraped his justice bone. If he ever got the guy alone, he just might uncage that part of himself that thirsted for blood.
Cain cleared his throat and emptied his mind of those thoughts. “There are some things you need to know right now. Important things. Like you’re not at the Center. You’re safe in a cabin in southern Ohio. You’ve been withdrawing from the meds for the past two days. Your short-term memory is shit from the shock treatments. I’ve been taking care of you the whole time.” He spoke the sentences as if there were a list he’d memorized—probably because he’d said the same thing so many times before. “That’s why we keep having this same conversation and you can’t remember it.”
She lifted her hands off her mouth. “Cool. That works for me. Never liked that place.”
Ooo…kkaayy… She obviously wasn’t fully grasping reality. “You’re not going to remember any of this, are you?”
“Probably not. Not when I’m feeling half drunk.” She put her hand back over her mouth, but her eyes sparkled with laughter.
She might be more coherent, but she definitely wasn’t fully functional. “I just want you to know. You are safe here. I won’t let you go back there. And I won’t hurt you. I would never hurt you.”
She lifted her hands off her mouth again. “I trust you. I’d know if you were some creepy asshole. You’re the kind of guy a girl feels dainty and delicate around.”
Yeah. She’d trust him until she actually saw him in full light, when fully aware. “Um…” He didn’t know what to say. Time for a subject change. “I need you to drink some water for me. It’ll help flush the drugs out of your system. I’m going to help you sit up.” He slid his hand underneath her back and helped her upright.
“Man, everything hurts. Feels like a busload of sumo wrestlers sat on me.”
He shoved the pillow behind her back. This was progress. The first time she’d been upright in days. “Dr. Payne did a number on you. Looks like he hit you in the face, the ribs, and on your thigh.”
A furrow of thoughtfulness dug into her forehead. “I don’t remember any of that. You’d think I’d remember something like that. Why can’t I remember it?”
“The shock treatments.”
“Oh yeah. You said that, didn’t you? And I forgot it.” A thin edge of concern cut through her tone.
“Hey, don’t worry about it. The short-term memory problems are temporary. I promise. Drink for me.” He held the glass to her lips. She reached up and covered his hand with hers. His heart skipped a few beats, then returned to its regularly scheduled rhythm.
She swallowed down the entire glass of water the same way she talked—full speed and without censorship, gulping and slurping like a child. “That’s good. Real good. I’m so thirsty all of a sudden.” She didn’t take her hands off his. He tried to move the glass, but she gripped it tight. “No. I want to keep touching you. It feels so good to have my skin on yours.”
Holy.
Christ.
Those images of hard fucking jumped into his mind again. He should change the subject, divert her attention in some way, but what came out his mouth had nothing to do with those intentions. “I’m going to be sad to see this side of you go. I like you being affectionate and warm to me.”