Cussing under his breath, Dylan lifted the steaming mug and took a deep swig. The damned coffee was so hot it burned his mouth and all the way down. At least that searing pain took his mind off the angry twinge of his leg and the pressure of his c**k inside his overalls.
What the f**k is wrong with me? I’m not going to get het up over some candy-assed kid from the lower forty-eight, damn it. In a day or two, I’ll send him packing and return to life as I knew it before this fuckin’ accident. But I guess I do need some help. Damn it to bloody f*****g hell, I need help whether I want it or not. I’m sure I can’t do everything right now, and simply wanting to do things myself won’t make it possible.
A few minutes later, Grey returned, a tinge of pink on his face as he collected plates and ute
