I sit shocked for a moment, because yes, he is amazing, and yes, I am very proud of him, but for a boy who doesn’t socialize, I wonder how much time she spent with him today. I should be worried about having a strange woman in my house around my kid, but I’m not. If it was anyone else, I would already have thrown them out.

Yawning, she answers my thoughts.

“We spent all day playing with Legos. I don’t think I have talked as much as I did today in all my life. My throat is sore.” She rubs her throat, and I clench my hand at the gesture, thinking about how pretty her neck would look in my hands. I really have to get ahold of myself.

Happy with the cleaning, she grabs the arnica cream and begins to rub it into my knuckles, so softly I can barely feel her touch.

“What is your name?” she whispers, her attention staying on my injuries.

“Dante,” I reply without hesitation, and she smiles in approval.

“How long will I be here, Dante?” she asks again, and I like the sound of my name from her lips. Her twang makes it sound like it’s a name just for her to speak.

“Until it is safe enough for you to leave.” I repeat what I’ve already told her, and as her eyes flick to mine, she nods in understanding. Her obedience does something to my insides, and I grit my teeth so hard that I am sure she can hear me grinding them.

She moves her body slightly to grab more arnica cream and her bare legs hit my fingers. I take advantage of the closeness and lift my finger, trailing her thigh slightly, feeling her soft skin, my cock now painfully awake. I hear her intake a breath and my eyes flick to hers as I make a small pattern against her skin. God, she is soft, delicate, small, yet is not begging me to let her go, crying for her friends or family, or screaming in horror at what she has seen. I watch her, completely fascinated by her, as she continues with the cream, not acting offended by my touch. The only change in her demeanor is the quickening of her breath and the slight blush to her cheeks. I should stop. But I can’t.

“There,” she says, breaking me out of my lust-filled trance. I look down at my hand, which although is still red and raw, looks much healthier than when I first walked into the room. She takes the cream and the towels to the bathroom and then walks back into the bedroom and slips into bed. Good move, Little Red. Keep your distance.

“Goodnight, Dante…” she says as she closes her eyes, my name on her lips the sweetest sound in the quiet of the night.