AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Hey, sexy ladies! xoxo

TWITTER: @lovethedinklage

I smell sex and candy here.
Who's that lounging in my chair?
Who's that casting devious stares in my direction?
Mama, this surely is a dream.

-Marcy Playground

*****

SHERRY:

"Hey," Harry calls, "where's my up-front bonus?"

I stop in the doorway, my back to him and unzip my jeans. Then I look over my shoulder, watching his eyes widen in surprise as I slowly and deliberately wiggle my jeans down to just below my ass.

I'm rewarded with that beautiful smile and a blush when he sees that my panties have "Saturday" embroidered across the rear.

"Three words." Harry says. "Best. Bonus. Ever."

*****

SHERRY

I sense something different about Harry when I return with the bath water. He's had a few minutes to think about things and now he probably wants to back out. Shit.

"Do not even think of backing out, Harry. I can see the wheels turning," I chastise him in a gentle voice.

"You tricked me. Got me all excited about 9 ½ Weeks. That was pretty sneaky, taking advantage of my weakness." He deadpans.

"Your weakness for soft-core porn?" I wink.

He's quiet for a moment. "I....I'm...," he seems to be struggling for the words, "I'm nervous. My bodily responses since the accident can be somewhat random." He looks down as his cheeks flush with color. "I don't want to embarrass myself, or possibly even offend you..." Harry's voice trails off.

"You mean if you get a boner while I wash your elbow or something?" I try to make light of the situation.

"Or if I don't," Harry responds with a twinge of sadness.

"Harry, I know how it goes. I've read a lot of information about paralysis. I know what to expect, and I promise you that I won't take anything personally."

He looks doubtful, so I take his hand and give it a little squeeze. "Just trust me, Harry. We have to work together as a team on this. You don't have to be embarrassed with me. Please don't."

He takes in a deep breath, pulls me to him and gives me a soft kiss on the lips. I'd love to have more, but I know I have to strike while the iron is hot as far as getting this bath done. I pull back and leave a gentle kiss on his cheek, and then on his forehead.

"If this goes horribly wrong, you're fired," Harry says.

"You're sexy when you're serious."

This causes him to smile, and I'm happy.

My sympathy overrides my better judgment, and I offer him a small reprieve. "Let's do your hair first since it involves less nudity."

I adjust the bed so it lays flat for his shampoo. I remove his pillow and replace it with the shampoo "tub" that is similar to a small inflatable swimming pool but with a notch in one side for the patient's neck.

I gather his hair so it is all in the tub, and no pieces are hanging out willy-nilly. Next I fill the tub with water I had brought from the bathroom which is thankfully still warm after Harry's hesitation.

My attention alternates between the work at hand and keeping an eye on Harry's face to make sure he's comfortable. He looks at me and I smile.

"Is the water okay for you?"

"Mhmm," he smiles. "Feels good actually."

I smile and gently splash water on his scalp and the parts of his hair that aren't already submerged. Biting my lip, I'm careful not to splash him in the face, but I'm also trying to work quickly so I can finish before the water cools.

"You look like you're concentrating so hard," Harry laughs. "Do you do that when you wash your own hair?"

"Shut up, Harry." I finish wetting his hair thoroughly and he laughs when the shampoo bottle makes a farting sound, causing me to roll my eyes.

An episode of Seinfeld plays in the background as I rub my hands together, evenly covering them with shampoo and then I start working my fingers through Harry's curls.

I concentrate on various areas of his head, gently scratching his scalp with my nails, and massaging his neck and temples slowly like they do when I go to the Toni & Guy salon back home. Harry gives a little moan here and there, and I look down to see his eyes closed.

"This is heavenly," he states as I rinse his hair free of shampoo and prepare to condition it.

While I'm doing the conditioning, Harry brings his hand up to my hip and rests it there tentatively.

He doesn't say anything else until I'm rinsing out the conditioner, "An added bonus is that your boobs are practically in my face throughout this entire procedure. Perhaps next time I can negotiate a topless shampoo?" His hand slowly slides from my hip up and over to my ribcage. I know he is considering feeling me up, but if I let that happen we'll never get his bath done.

"One broken arm's not enough for ya, Harry?" I give him the look.

He pouts and drops his hand back down to my hip, sliding just his thumb up and under the hem of my t-shirt so it's touching my bare flesh. When I don't stop him, he takes that as a go ahead and he starts subtly massaging my skin with his thumb. Oh, Lord.

I refuse to look into his green eyes that I know are watching my every move, and instead focus on squeezing as much water out of his hair as possible and wrapping a towel around his head. I open the valve to the inflatable shampoo tub so the water flows through the drain hose and into the plastic container I used to bring it into the room. I carry the water bin to the bathroom, pouring the dirty water down the bathtub drain.

I return to Harry's room and remove the inflatable tub, dry it out with a towel, and stow it away for future use.

After raising Harry's bed back to a semi-sitting position, I towel dry his hair and comb through it. He is yammering on about how refreshed he feels from the shampoo alone.

"You know, I feel so much better already," He grins, "The breast proximity was a big plus."

"Pervert," I reply despite my secret arousal.

"Maybe I don't need a bath after all?" Ah, trying to weasel out of the deal. "Liam can do it on Monday?"

"Harry, that's still two days away. In addition, you'll be welching on our agreement." I pout, "I thought you were a man of integrity."

Harry groans and flails about as best as a partially paralyzed person with a broken arm is able, causing me to chuckle.

"I'm assuming you'll be done with your tantrum by the time I return with the water?"

I zip outta there before he can stop me, and soon enough I'm returning with two smaller containers of water, the washcloths, and the towels. I am one of those people that will struggle carrying in ten bags of groceries at once so I don't have to make a second trip to the car.

Harry looks surprised when I stagger in with the supplies.

"Sherry, you're really overworking yourself. I think we—,"

"Harry, I will bathe you against your will if I have to." I look directly into his eyes.

Harry's mouth drops open briefly then closes. "Well, aren't you a little dominator." He teases.

"Let's just say I'm resourceful," I reply. I pull a ponytail holder from my pocket and quickly whip his still damp hair up into a temporary pony so it's out of the way.

"We'll bathe your top half first, and then the bottom half, but I will leave your private area for Liam to do until you get more comfortable with me, or until your arm is healed and you can do it yourself. Okay?"

Harry shrugs. He's trying, but obviously still uncomfortable.

He is so adorable it almost hurts me to look at him. I really wanna hop in the bed next to him and make out like we did last night, but first things first.

"Arms up," I declare and he complies, making it easy for me to pull his t-shirt off over his head.

"Tah-dah!" Harry grins and spreads his arms wide. He is definitely not shy about his upper body and I am not shy about looking at it, as my eyes are drawn to his chest against my will. God damn.

He is svelte. Everything about him is beautiful from his skin tone, to the numerous tattoos that beautifully mark his flesh. Having a tattoo myself, I obviously don't object to them, but sometimes too many is too many. But with Harry, I am struck by how every one of his tattoos seems destined to be there, merging impeccably into the natural landscape of his torso. From the swallows on his chest, to the fronds that decorate his lower abdomen, it is hard for me to tear my eyes away. I hope my mouth isn't visibly watering.

"Sherry?"

His voice snaps me from the fantasy of allowing my tongue to follow the sprinkling of hairs that trail beneath his belly button on down to...

"Hmm?" I reply. My eyes snap up to meet his and based on the naughty glint I see, I know I've been caught looking.

"Sherry, Sherry, Sherry..." Harry begins in a low voice.

I can feel my face redden as the sound of my name rolling off his tongue in that British accent is almost enough to bring me to orgasm, signifying that my momentary dominance has come to an abrupt end.

Harry concludes with a smirk, "My how the tables have turned."