He Wouldn't Claim Me — Another Man Did-Chapter 110 - 97: Taking a Bath

After Isla Prescott finished her IV, Shane Sterling took her home.

Because they had rushed to the hospital earlier, the scene of Damian Prescott’s attack hadn’t been cleaned up yet. The blood covering the floor was enough to make one’s skin crawl.

Shane Sterling had been fine until he saw it. The moment he did, fury surged through his veins like molten lava, making him wish he could go and tear Damian Prescott apart with his bare hands that very instant.

"Go rest. I’ll clean this up," Shane Sterling said in a low voice.

Isla Prescott could hear the suppressed anger in his voice, so she didn’t dare provoke him. She quickly went to sit on the sofa.

"Where’s the mop?"

"In the bathroom."

Shane Sterling took off his watch, undid his cuffs, and rolled his shirt sleeves up to his forearms. He began cleaning the blood from the floor. He was meticulous, and for the spots the mop couldn’t reach, he crouched down to wipe them with a cloth.

Isla Prescott had seen many sides of Shane Sterling, but she still thought he was sexiest when he was doing housework.

Half an hour later, Shane Sterling had finally finished cleaning the entire floor.

He went into the bathroom, poured out the dirty water, and tidied the room up a bit.

When he was done with everything, he walked over to Isla Prescott and looked down at her. "Do you want to take a shower?"

Isla Prescott was stunned. ’He’s finished cleaning the house, so now he’s planning to clean me up?’

"What do you mean?"

"I’ll help you wash."

"I can wash myself."

"It’ll be difficult with your hand."

"It’s fine, I can manage. Thank you for all your help today. You can go home now."

But Shane Sterling didn’t leave. Instead, he leisurely sat down beside her. "Done using me, so you’re just going to send me away?"

"You chose to clean up on your own. I didn’t force you."

"Fair enough. In that case, helping you shower is also something I’m volunteering for, so you don’t need to feel shy." He slowly leaned closer, his fingers reaching for her chest. "Let me get your clothes off for you, okay?"

Isla Prescott clutched her collar and shot to her feet. "No, thank you! I really can do it myself."

Seeing her insistence, Shane Sterling didn’t press the issue.

"Then go take your shower. I’ll wait for you to finish before I leave."

"Why wait until I’m finished?"

"Your hand is injured. What if you need help with something?" He glanced at the security camera in the room. "Or were you planning on shouting for Justin Wyatt through the camera?"

"..."

Isla Prescott ignored him, grabbing her pajamas and heading into the bathroom.

Shane Sterling spread his arms and leaned back on the sofa, his gaze brazen as he watched her. "Shout if you need me."

His expression was pure rogue, the very picture of a romantic scoundrel.

Isla Prescott slammed the bathroom door shut with a BANG.

But as it turned out, she ran into a problem the moment she closed the door.

The anesthetic on Isla Prescott’s arm had worn off, and now even the slightest movement sent a sharp pain through it. To make matters worse, the sweater she wore was particularly tight-fitting. She didn’t dare put any strain on her injured arm, which meant her other hand couldn’t get any leverage. No matter what she did, she couldn’t get the sweater off.

After struggling over and over for a long time, the sweater remained stubbornly wrapped around her.

Isla Prescott was about to give up, but then she remembered Shane Sterling’s predatory gaze from earlier. The thought spurred her to try again.

After another long struggle, the sweater still wouldn’t come off, but her wound was definitely hurting more.

KNOCK KNOCK. A pair of knocks sounded at the bathroom door.

"Did you decide to move in there?" Shane Sterling’s smug voice drifted in.

"Women take a long time to shower, okay?"

"But I haven’t heard any water running yet. What are you doing, giving yourself a dry clean?"

Isla Prescott’s heart sank. ’So even with the door closed, he can tell how stuck I am.’

"Open the door," his voice was now coaxing. "If you don’t want me to look, I can close my eyes while I take it off for you."

Hearing him say that, Isla Prescott opened the door from the inside.

"Undressing a woman with your eyes closed... is that a new skill you’ve picked up, Young Mr. Shaw?"

"Have you forgotten what we did with the lights off?" Shane Sterling stepped inside. The already small bathroom instantly felt too cramped to even turn around in. He pressed her against the sink, facing her, and slowly lowered his head. "What’s the difference between taking your clothes off with my eyes closed and taking them off in the dark? Is that something I’d need to learn?"

Isla Prescott’s cheeks flushed. "Then close your eyes."

Shane Sterling obediently closed his eyes, but his hands remained just as aggressive, slipping right under the hem of her sweater.

Isla Prescott felt the pads of his fingers brush against her skin, and her body instantly went taut as a drawn bow.

Shane Sterling heard her swallow, and the corners of his lips quirked up. "Don’t be nervous. I’ll be gentle. I’ll do my best not to hurt you."