Free WMIS 04 Rock With Me by Kristen Proby

any,” I whisper, my eyes falling closed. I’m just so weak, I can’t keep
     my eyes open.
    “I brought some.” He tucks me into the bed and leaves the room, returning quickly
     with a glass of water and pills. “Take these, and then I want to take your temp.”
    I comply, too weak to argue. I should kick his ass out of here, but I’m too weak for
     that too.
    He takes the water from me and sticks the thermometer into my mouth, sitting at my
     hip on the side of the bed. His fingers are trailing down my cheek and then my neck,
     softly, soothingly. He’ll put me to sleep.
    God, I just want to sleep.
    “One-oh-two,” he mutters and exhales deeply. “Too high, sunshine. The Tylenol should
     work. Get some sleep. I’ll wake you in a few hours for more and to take your temp
     again.”
    “Don’t need you to stay,” I whisper. “Don’t want you to see me like this.”
    “I’m not leaving, and you’re too weak to kick my dumb ass out of here, so deal with
     it, sugar.” I feel his lips on my forehead again and then nothing as sleep finally
     claims me.
     
    ***
     
    “Wake up, baby. Sam, wake up.” A cool cloth is being rubbed on my forehead and Leo’s
     smooth voice is calling to me. “Sam, I need you to take more medicine. Wake up.”
    I open my eyes and there he is. He wasn’t a dream. His eyes look worried, and his
     hair is messier than usual.
    He looks tired.
    “What time is it?” I ask, my voice hoarse.
    “About two in the morning. Here, take these.” He hands me two small white pills and
     water and then takes my temp again. “One hundred even. It’s coming down.”
    “I’m a sweaty mess,” I mutter in disgust.
    “Do you want a shower?” He asks.
    “Yeah.”
    “Let’s go.” He pulls the covers back and helps me to my feet, but I’m wobbly with
     weakness.
    Fuck, I hate feeling like this.
    “A bath it is.” He smiles down at me and scoops me into his arms.
    “I thought I dreamed you,” I whisper and bury my nose in his neck.
    “That explains why you were telling someone they were sexy and talented and wonderful
     in your sleep.” He winks down at me and I can’t help the small smile that finds its
     way across my lips.
    “That explains it,” I agree. He sets me gently on the toilet while he runs the hot
     water in the tub, pulls the soaked t-shirt over my head, helps me out of my panties
     and scoops me back into his arms so he can lower me into the water.
    “It feels cold.” I frown at him.
    “I can’t give you a super hot bath, honey. I’m trying to break your fever.” He scoops
     up my dirty clothes and tosses them into my hamper. “Where are you pajamas?”
    “Sleep shirts are in the top drawer of my dresser. Panties are in the second drawer
     down.”
    He nods and leaves the bathroom and I just push my hands through the water, watching
     it fall over my knees. He’s really good at this taking care of someone stuff.
    “Where did you learn to be a caretaker?” I ask him.
    “I took care of Meg for a long time.” He shrugs and smiles down at me sweetly, that
     piercing catching my eye, and I can’t help but remember what he can do with that little
     piece of metal. He holds up another Nash t-shirt. “What’s with all the concert t-shirts?”
    “I see a lot of concerts.” I look back down at the water, embarrassed that he’s seen
     all of my Nash shirts. “I always get a t-shirt and use them for pajamas.”
    “You have quite a Nash collection.”
    “They’re my favorite,” I whisper, my eyes falling closed again. “Happy now?”
    “Getting there,” he whispers and kisses my forehead. “Come on, baby, let’s get you
     back in bed.” He scoops me out of the bath and I gasp at the cold air that feels even
     colder on my over-heated skin.
    “So cold.” I watch him wrap a towel around me as I start to shiver. “I’m sorry.”
    “Why are you sorry?” He asks.
    “That you’re taking care of me.”
    “I’m not sorry about that.” He briskly