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I’d divulged my own likes, dislikes and dreams to her too, so we were even on that front, but I learned that with Lily there was no rhyme or reason – she just did what she did, and liked what she liked.
That reminded me to check what shoes she was wearing today, something which ended up just adding to my penis torture because she was wearing shorts. This meant I had to look down her fabulous legs to her feet…
Birkenstocks?
“You’re not wearing Converse today.” I pointed out, trying to distract me and break the tension building in the cab of the truck. In the last three months, the only time she wasn’t wearing them was when she was at home.
“It’s too hot, and my feet get uncomfortable and puffy.”
Fair point. It also made me worry about what was going on with the swelling. I’d made the mistake of Googling it when it had first started, and now I had a ton of horror stories going through my head. I’d forgotten the first rule of being sick and having the internet to hand – don’t Google your symptoms. Ever! Don’t watch the videos of operations or giving birth on YouTube either.
Scarred. For. Life!
The doctor’s office wasn’t too far from where she lived, so in no time we were pulling into a parking spot. Cutting the ignition and undoing my belt, I got ready to jump out to help her down when she grabbed my arm, stopping me.
“Ok, what’s your problem?” she snapped. “You’re like a bear with a sore head.”
I don’t know if it was the pounding in my crotch, or if it was because I’d been worrying about her blood pressure and the fact she was in pain, but it all came pouring out.
“No, I’m a bear with sore balls. I swear to God, they’re backed up all the way to my brain. All you have to do is blink and my dick gets hard.” Raking my fingers through my hair, I made a mental note to get it cut when it took that bit longer to get to the ends. “I can’t sleep because I’m worried I’ll end up trying to have sex with you while I’m out cold. In fact, I don’t think I’ve had a good night’s sleep all week, but mainly because I’m worried about you.” When she frowned in confusion, I clarified, “Your feet are swollen, your blood pressure made the lady make a worried noise, you have that split pussy disorder and I hate that you’re going through all of that.”
“Tate, I’m fine,” she tried to reassure me, but it wasn’t going to work.
“No, I’m not listening. I want the doctor to tell me you’re fine. I also want you to cut back on your hours at The Bar so that you’re not standing for long periods. If I could, I’d wrap you up in silk and mermaid hair so all you could do is rest and relax.”
Her lips twitching irritated me slightly – not one thing was funny about what she was going through. “Mermaid hair?”
Ok, maybe that was kind of funny, but mermaids were magical creatures weren’t they? So their hair would have magical powers.
“Whatever,” I muttered, opening the door to get out. I didn’t turn around when I heard her moving, but I knew what she was going to do so I said my usual warning. “Don’t even think about it. You’ll wait for me to get to your door to help you out.”
As I slammed the door shut, I heard her say, “Dick,” under her breath, but I wasn’t going to rise to it. My cock did that enough for me just now.
Opening her door, I raised my hands and waited for her to lean into them, but when she didn’t I looked up at her and lifted my eyebrows. “Problem?”
“Why are you so grumpy?” she asked, crossing her arms and glaring at me.
Lowering my own back down, I went through the pros and cons of telling her the truth, or bullshitting my way through this with something like male PMS. Then again, I wasn’t a liar, even though the PMS thing could be plausible except BBS – blue ball syndrome. “I’m being a dick because I am a dick,” I blurted. “I mean, ok,” I started pacing in the small area in front of her. Basically, it was one step forward, one step back, but it counted as pacing. “This is fucking hard. I have blue balls.”
Apparently it wasn’t that hard after all. Smooth move, you blue balled asshole.
“Did you bruise them? Jesus, I didn’t hold on to those last night, did I?” When she made a move to jump down and most likely check on them, I waved my hands at her.
“No, no, nothing like that. It’s just… you’re you,” I waved them up and down her this time, “and my dick likes that. A lot. A lot, a lot. And it can’t have you, so my balls are going blue and screaming at me all day long. And don’t believe that blue ball myth stuff, that shit is real.”
