Charlie's Angel

43

Chris

I hissed out loud, digging my nails into Charlie's arm. "Easy, easy, easy." I grunted and sucked on my bottom lip in agony as she tried to help me sit down in the bathtub. I hadn't bathed in a few days and my stench was starting to give it away. I suggested another one of Charlie's sponge baths but she declined, insisting that I needed to soak.

"Shit, sorry!" She cursed, flinching at my aggressiveness. Once I was sitting down, panting heavily from the work we both did, she stood back nervously and gnawed at her bottom lip.

I caught my breath and let the boiling water release the tension in my muscles and every other fiber within my body. Once the initial sting of it dulled down to numbness, I opened my eyes back up and watched her. "My bad for yellin', baby. I'm still really sore. C'mere." I motioned to the little ledge beside the tub.

She sat down slowly with her bottom lip still between her teeth. "Um, sorry. I'll be more careful next time." She grasped a washcloth in her hand and dunked it in some of the bubbly water before washing my chest carefully. Her brows furrowed together in concentration as she tried to steer clear of the stitches on my lower abdomen. The doctor said it was okay to actually bathe now because my stitches were starting to dissolve into my skin.

There wasn't really any physical therapy for that part of my body, but I had some exercises engraved into my mind for my arm. Simply flexing my muscles. After learning all of them, I realized how pointless physical therapy was because this was shit I could have done on my own.

I still hadn't been able to paint yet either, and I was still pissed.

Charlie scrubbed around my neck and my left arm, trying everything in her power to get rid of the stink from off my skin. I felt pretty helpless in this situation since I couldn't use my right arm, which was my dominant arm, to do simple tasks like bathing myself. I was a grown-ass man and couldn't even take care of myself. She practically had to do everything for me, and I wondered if she was getting tired of it.

Honestly, I was kinda waiting for the day that she would give up and tell me she can't do this anymore. I just prayed it never came.

"Lean forward a little if you can," she instructed, curling her wild hair around her ear. She motioned to my back and I grunted a little as I hunched my shoulders forward, grinding my teeth together so as not to yell out and scare her again. She began scrubbing quickly down my spine and the tattoos that I had scattered across my shoulders. "Alright, lay back."

I did as I was told, only to get this over with.

She dunked the cloth in the water again and reached for my bad arm, watching my face closely. I lifted my arm a little and she held it around my wrist, as far away from my stitches as possible. My skin was rubbed slowly all around until she got to my elbow, then she looked at me, "I won't hurt you."

Folding it around her index finger, she swept it over over my skin until she got to the wound, wiping under it and around it completely. I tensed up as she did so because I knew she would accidentally touch it and I wouldn't be able to hold my tongue. Instead of scrubbing any further, she soaked the cloth in water and wrung it out over my arm. The water sprinkled downward on my arm and I was grateful she thought of this instead of actually cleaning it.

The water became slightly stained red with all the dried blood coming off me that the nurses at the hospital failed to do anything about. It made my stomach churned, so I opted to just watch her.

When she had rinsed me off, she hooked her arms under my armpits and helped me stand up in the tub. Licking her lips at my nakedness, she let her eyes linger for a quick second before wrapping a towel around my lower half and tying it gently on my left side. I flushed red in embarrassment and stepped out carefully, stepping over the pile of my dirty clothes to go to the bed. Charlie and I were almost never naked–except when we were making love–so seeing each other in pureness any other time was still surprising; we were just shy like that. Not to say we're self conscious or anything. I just ain't like the breeze I felt on my dick. Charlie, on the other hand, was extremely shy when it came to vulnerability.