"Oh, for-" Phryne bit back a very unladylike curse.
Try as she might, there was no way to open the tiny little mother-of-pearl buttons on the sleeves of her favourite blouse. The thick bandage wrapped around three fingers of her right hand made it all but impossible to grip them, and there was simply no way to reach them with her left. Unless she wanted to go to bed fully dressed, she needed help.
She did a quick mental run-down of the people in her household. Mr Butler had the evening off and had left a few hours ago, a big smile on his kind old face at the thought of a night at the pictures. Jane was still in Queenscliff, enjoying a week of vacation with Aunt P who was determined to teach the girl her idea of good manners while thoroughly spoiling her at the same time. And Sarah, the new housemaid since Dot had left, was at home with a nasty cold.
No, Phryne decided. There was no other solution. She had to call Jack. He was in the middle of a case, true, but surely this situation qualified as an emergency.
"You need my help for what?" Jack sounded incredulous. "Now, Phryne, if this is a transparent attempt to get me to come over-"
"It is not." She managed to sound suitably offended by the suggestion, though to be honest, he had a point. As a rule, Phryne was not above using such stratagems to get her favourite detective inspector away from his job and into her bed. "Please, Jack. I need your help, I really do."
"All right." There was a brief rustling of papers at the other end of the line. "Fortunately, this case is as good as closed. I'll be over as soon as I can make it."
"Thank you so much." Putting down the receiver, Phryne hesitated for a moment, surprised by the surge of relief she'd felt at his words. Normally, she hated being the damsel in distress, and yet… The thought of Jack rushing here to take care of her was a lot more comforting than she had expected.
She shook her head at herself as she went into the parlour to pour a nightcap for the both of them. Only moments later she was cursing again, when the beautiful crystal cap of her decanter refused to budge. This silly little injury was rapidly turning into a major nuisance. And damn it, where was Jack?
Dropping onto the settee, she glared at the decanter. Her hand had started to throb again, and a sip of whisky would have been welcome to numb the pain. Such a stupid, avoidable thing to happen. If only she'd been a little more careful. If only that blasted drainpipe hadn't been twisted. If only…
With a sigh, Phryne rose to her feet and walked over to the window, pushing aside the curtain to glance out into the night. It was a beautiful evening, quiet and peaceful, but that fact didn't do a damned thing to make her feel better. "What's taking you so long, Jack Robinson?" she muttered under her breath, even though rationally she knew he couldn't be here yet.
The throbbing in her hand intensified. Was the bandage too tight, maybe? The nurse at the Royal Melbourne had seemed capable enough, but should it really still hurt this much? After all, it had seemed like barely a scratch, and it wasn't like her to be so whiny. She probably just needed something to take her mind off the pain. Music, maybe? Her gaze fell on the gramophone, but she winced at the mere idea of getting it to work.
No. She'd have to wait. Nothing to be done. With another deep sigh, Phryne headed for the kitchen. At least it would be warm and cosy there.
The beautiful old townhouse appeared cold and inhospitable tonight, with almost no lights visible from the street, and a lonely, forlorn feeling about it. Jack frowned as he made his way up the front steps and reached for the bell. Phryne had sounded odd on the phone, cranky and somehow tired, not at all her usual jaunty self. Maybe that injury she'd mentioned was worse than he'd assumed.
"Jack." There she was, opening the door for him, and yes, she looked tired and a tiny bit pinched around the mouth. "Come in."
As soon as they reached the parlour, Jack turned on the light and reached for Phryne's hand. It was wrapped in a voluminous bandage, and when he touched it, she flinched involuntarily.
"What's the matter? Are you still in pain?" Jack's heart constricted briefly with worry, but he ignored the sensation with the ease of long practice.
"It's nothing." Phryne tried to smile, but he could see her heart wasn't in it. "Just-"
"That bandage looks far too tight. Let me…" Ignoring her protests, he pulled her down to sit by his side and slowly began to unravel the gauze. "Damn it, Phryne, did you put this on by yourself?"
She rolled her eyes at him, even as she bit back a brief cry of pain. "I am not stupid, Jack. Reckless, maybe, but not stupid. I went to the hospital, like any reasonable person would, and had them take care of it."
"Well, they didn't do a very good job." The last of the bandage came off, and Jack just barely stopped himself from cursing.
The wound was deeper than he had expected – she was lucky that she hadn't lost a finger or two. And yes, the bandage had been too tight. Phryne's long, graceful fingers looked red and swollen, and he sighed as he set about bandaging them again, this time with more care.
When he was finished, he cleared his throat. "There. That should be better. But, Phryne, how on Earth-"
"I slipped while climbing down a drainpipe. It was twisted and rusty, and a piece broke off, and…" Phryne's voice trailed off. "I probably should have worn gloves. But really, old McCain ought to keep his place in better shape, don't you think?"
It was a valiant attempt at distraction, but Jack wasn't in the mood for mercy. "You probably shouldn't have broken into his house in the first place," he growled. "I'd ask what you were thinking, but I believe I know the answer already."
He'd expected her to pout prettily in response, and to come up with some silly reason why the break-in had been absolutely necessary, but she surprised him by swallowing and averting her gaze. "You are right. It was a dumb thing to do."
"Wait a moment." Gently, he took hold of her chin and made her face him again. "Did you just say I was right?" He shook his head. "What's the matter, Phryne? Was the pain that bad?"
"It's not that." Phryne made a face. "It is just… so frustrating, all of it. I can't even get undressed by myself." She gestured toward the buttons of her blouse. "I can't pour myself a drink. It's all so utterly humiliating."
"Nonsense." He got to his feet and walked over to the decanter, pouring two generous glasses of Scotch. "There. Have a drink. And we'll see about the undressing later." His conspiratorial wink had at least the effect of making her smile for a moment. "Anything else I can do for you?"
"Well…" Phryne hesitated. "I'm not sure you can do anything about it, but my neck…" Slowly, she moved her head from side to side, wincing at the discomfort. "I must have strained it when I tried to open the buttons."
Jack felt a smile tug at his lips. "As a matter of fact, I do think I can do something about it. Let's head upstairs."
"What, now?" Phryne's eyebrows flew up. "Listen, Jack, I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm really not in the mood."
"That's not what I meant." He didn't bother to hide his smirk anymore. "Come on. Let me surprise you."
"If you insist." Phryne shrugged. "Who am I to argue with Melbourne's finest?"
Jack resisted the temptation to point out that she had certainly never had any qualms about that before. "Lead the way." He picked up the two glasses of whisky and gestured toward the stairs. "That way, I can catch you if you take another tumble."
Phryne was intrigued. Or she would have been, if she had been able to relax a little more. Still, Jack had been so sweet about the whole thing, and her hand was feeling a lot better now, so she really didn't mind going along with his plan, whatever it involved. Once in the bedroom, she gracefully allowed him to assist her with the buttons that had given her so much trouble earlier and to help her out of her silken underwear – a task he had gotten quite a lot of practice at lately.
With a pleased sigh, Phryne stretched out on the bed, savouring the smooth caress of the satiny sheets. She was definitely never going back to plain old cotton again, not if she could help it.
Jack disappeared for a moment into the bathroom, and when he returned, he was carrying a large towel and a bottle of her favourite scented oil. He himself had only partially undressed, enough to give her a lovely view of his trim upper body, but clearly not ready to join her in bed.
"Lie down on your stomach. Here." Carefully, he spread out the towel, smoothing it down with both hands. "I'm going to see what I can do about your neck."
Phryne couldn't believe her ears, but she hurried to follow his instructions. "Jack Robinson! Are you going to give me a massage?" She shook her head in wonder. "You really are full of surprises tonight."
Jack blushed a little. "I'm going to try, at least. Obviously, I'm not a professional, but…" He poured a little oil into his hands. "I did some undercover work once and I picked up a few pointers." The blush deepened.
"Now that sounds like a story that I'm going to get out of you one day, one way or another." Phryne closed her eyes in bliss as he began to spread the oil across her back. "But not now."
"Not now," Jack agreed, running his hands gently all the way down her back. "Now I want you to relax. Just leave it all to me."
"My pleasure." Phryne sighed happily, allowing herself to sink deeper into the mattress.
A complete and utter pleasure, to be honest. Such an amazing sensation, to feel his hands on her body, warm and firm and assured, his grip just tight enough to loosen her stiff muscles, and yet so tender and considerate that Phryne felt her throat go tight. They weren't in the habit of speaking much about their feelings, neither of them was, but the touch of Jack's hands was more eloquent than words could ever be. This was an act of love, pure and simple, and Phryne appreciated every moment of it.
The scent of the oil filled her senses, as he took his time massaging her neck and shoulders until they finally loosened up a little, then moved slowly further down to work on her lower back. He was quiet, almost reverent, but she could feel his gaze on her back all the time, as he made sure she was still enjoying herself. So much care, so much gentleness… it was almost too much. Squeezing her eyes firmly shut, Phryne bit back a sob.
"Phryne? Are you all right?" Jack stopped for a moment, his hands hovering just above her shoulders, and she quickly nodded.
"It's fine. I just…" But no, she didn't want to talk, not now, so she moved her hips instead, in a slow sensuous arc that drew a stifled gasp from him.
And just like that, the mood changed. Phryne wasn't in pain anymore, not at all, the throbbing in her hand reduced to a dull ache that barely registered at the edge of her consciousness. And Jack's touch suddenly took on a completely different quality as he ran his hands over her curves with an almost reverent sigh.
"Gods, Phryne." His voice had dropped at least an octave, and he sounded a little hoarse. "That's not how I'd planned it."
"I know." Another smooth, sinuous twist of her hips had him groan aloud. "But you don't mind changing your plans, do you?"
"No. No, I don't." She heard him swallow, hard, and now his hands were on her legs, slowly parting them from behind so that he could touch her everywhere. His fingers were warm and slippery from the oil, and when they brushed against her heat, Phryne cried out because it felt all kinds of wonderful.
But Jack pulled back his hand again, ignoring her impatient huff. "Wait. If we do this, we do it properly."
With a few quick, spare movements, careful not to put any pressure on her injured hand, he flipped her on her back, and then pulled back to look her over. He was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling, and his eyes burning with desire. Phryne had to close her eyes for a moment to regain her composure.
"So, what now?" She arched her back slightly to show off her breasts, a move that earned her another groan.
"I told you. You let me take care of you." Jack was not about to be distracted, it seemed.
Pouring a little more oil into his hands, he set to work again, this time on her breasts and stomach. And within moments, he had her reduced to a helpless puddle of want. His hands were so soft, and the oil smelled heavenly, of sandalwood and musk, and he knew exactly where to touch her, how to tease her, until she was whining with impatience. Her nipples were aching, straining for his touch, and when he finally brushed his thumb across them, Phryne bucked up hard.
"Shhh. I've got you." His mouth found hers, in a long, sweet kiss, and a heartbeat later, he was kissing his way down her throat, making her shiver with anticipation.
When his lips locked around her nipple, it was almost unbearably sweet. He sucked once, lightly, but it was like an electric shock all the way through her body. Once again, she cried out, tensing all over. He relented immediately, soothing the sting with a few careful licks, his tongue soft and gentle on her oversensitive skin.
"Jack. You're killing me." Again, she arched up her hips, practically begging for his touch, and he didn't disappoint her.
His hand parted her legs with assurance, and only moment later she felt one of his fingers push deep inside her. Her body responded immediately, gripping him hard, and when he slid down and put his mouth on her, Phryne almost lost it completely. Jack was good at this, really good, patient and thorough, and he always seemed to enjoy it, too. His tongue did the most amazing things to her sweet spot, and before she knew it, Phryne was tensing all over, so close already.
"Please…" It was the barest whimper, but Jack understood her well enough.
Gently curving his finger, he pressed down hard against her walls, and at the same time flicked his tongue briefly against her. And that was all she needed. Sweet, sweet pleasure flooded her veins, raced through every cell of her body as she found the release she'd been craving. For one blissful moment, there was nothing but heat and light, and then a feeling of pure relief, as she let go of everything that had been weighing her down all day long. All crankiness was forgotten as she melted into his arms, soft and warm and relaxed.
Jack held her tight, making soft soothing noises, but there was no way she could ignore his own arousal. He was rock-hard against her stomach, taut with want, shaking with desire.
Yet when she reached down to wrap her left hand clumsily around him, he shook his head decisively. "No need to worry about me. I can take care of myself later."
"But I want to." Phryne pouted. "It's simply not fair to leave you in such a state after all you've done for me."
"You can hardly manage your device with just one hand," he pointed out drily. "And you really shouldn't strain your hands any further."
"True. But there is nothing wrong with my mouth, is there?" Phryne glanced up at him from under her lashes, thoroughly enjoying the reaction her words provoked.
"Oh." Jack swallowed. "Well, if you put it like that…"
"Absolutely." Carefully, Phryne sat up a little, then motioned for him to come closer. "I think it's a splendid idea. Don't you?"
He didn't answer, just bit his lip hard, but he willingly arranged himself on his knees before her so that she could take him in comfortably. Phryne smiled to herself as she breathed a soft kiss on the tip of his cock, making him shiver all over. He loved this, she knew he did, but he would never ask for it, no matter how often she'd assured him she didn't mind. And she really didn't, not at all. She loved the taste of him on her tongue, loved how vulnerable he was with her, how amazingly responsive to everything she did.
She started off slowly, but really, there was no way he was going to last long, not with the long, slow build-up he'd had. Already, he was panting hard, and she could see the muscles in his stomach contract every time she flicked her tongue against his flesh. He was so incredibly gorgeous like this, all that carefully honed control gone, all his masks down, his hair messed up, his eyes blazing with desire.
Phryne knew that this was a sight very few people ever got to see, and she couldn't help but feel a little smug at the thought that she had done this to him. She was the one who could make him forget all guilt and shame and embarrassment, she was the one he trusted enough to let her see him like this. And when he came, shuddering all over with the force of it, it was the sweetest triumph imaginable. Afterwards, he came into her arms without a moment's hesitation, clinging to her as if she was his lifeline.
"Gods, Phryne." He was still breathing hard. "Every time I think this can't get more exciting…"
"Glad I haven't lost my touch completely. Even if I'm as clumsy as a bear right now." She lifted her bandaged hands to illustrate her words. "I can't wait until I'm back to form."
"I don't know." Jack's mouth twitched in a smile. "You seem in fine form to me, Miss Fisher. And I was happy to take care of you for once." He reached for her hand to place a quick kiss on the bandage. "All better now?"
"I'm fine." Phryne yawned heartily. Her eyes were already beginning to fall shut. "Thank you," she muttered sleepily, as Jack reached across her to turn off the light.
She was really feeling so much better. And as soon as the bandage came off, she would find a way to repay Jack for his efforts. She really couldn't wait.
Huggles and thanks to my lovely beta suilven.