Chapter 8
Three MonthsLater
“Just leave me alone,”Cam bellows from the upstairs bedroom, his frustration evident in the way he shouts at London. There’s a thud against the wall and then something lands on the floor. From the sounds of it, Cam threw his ointment bottle in a tantrum huff.
That wouldn’t be the first time he’s acted like a stubborn two-year-old.
While Cam has always been the more stoic and reserved of the three of us, this ordeal and his recovery process has drawn on his last reserve of patience and brought out the worst in him. He’s ornery as fuck and the worst patient. Not that I blame him one bit.
I hear some faint whispering and then the soft click of the door latch, followed by London’s footsteps padding down the staircase.
Swiveling on the piano bench I’ve been perched on for the last thirty minutes, trying to come up with a stanza for a song I’m working on, I see London walk into the kitchen and set down her basket of medical supplies.
From across the hall, I can see the stress and despair in her body language as her head tips forward and her shoulders droop.
Cam has been staying here since he left the hospital after the successful skin graft surgery of his back and side. For the first month, he had a physical therapist and a nurse that I’d hired to come in daily to change his dressings, clean the surgical sites, and get him stretched out and moving so the scars would heal properly.
Unfortunately, one man can only take so much pain and agony. And now poor London has been making sure his back is staying moist by adding the topical ointments and keeping it clean and free from infection where the skin begins to heal.
It hurts to know Cam is still struggling with the pain, and that he inadvertently and unintentionally takes it out on London. I suppose it’s human nature to take it out on the ones you love.
Walking into the kitchen, I come up behind London and begin to gently massage her shoulders. She moans in pure pleasure.
“Oh Sage, don’t stop doing that.Ever.”
I chuckle and lean in to kiss the curve of her neck. She smells heavenly, a soft fragrant perfume scenting her skin. Although she stayed here with Cam after he was discharged, while I returned to tour to make up the two weeks of shows I’d missed while he was in the hospital, she refuses to live here full-time. She stays over every weekend and tries to stop over a few nights a week, but she claims her apartment is easier because it’s closer to work.
My body and cock grow hard as I continue to touch her, wedging myself behind her, my full erection pressed into her ass. London’s head drops back to rest against my chest and she sighs.
I can’t help myself around her. London is the sexiest woman I know and my senses are flooded with arousal whenever she’s near. Like a beacon signaling to a sailor, she’s my light and my salvation.
“Are you okay, babe? Can I do something to make you feel better?” I murmur into her ear, nipping at her earlobe and trailing my fingers down her arm.
She stretches on tiptoes, her arms wrapping behind our bodies to clutch my ass, which she greedily squeezes.
“You know, maybe we can do something to help our patient relieve some of his own pain. What do you think, baby? Should we go see if he wants to join?”
London shifts her head to the side and I capture her smile with my kiss. She tastes of her vanilla latte and cream. My tongue spears between her lips hungrily, taking everything she has to offer.
Her moan has my head spinning and body shaking with pent up need, my cock thrusting against her ass crease. We’ve fucked a few times together while Cam has been convalescing, but it’s usually quick and rough to get our rocks off. And it hasn’t been with Cam.
And I miss him desperately.
He’s been angry and surly during his recovery, which I can completely understand. London and I have been patient and sympathetic, knowing it will take time. It’s not just the physical wounds he’s healing from, but also the emotional ones left behind. But tonight, we need to show him what he’s been missing. He needs to get back to his old self again. To remember what it’s like to feel good.
London swings around in my arms and kisses me soundly, her hands sliding through my hair, tugging hard, just the way I like it.
“Yes,” she says breathlessly. “Take me upstairs so we can make him whole again.”
Dr. Kim-Lee was very adamant about what he told us about recovery. He said that the psychological healing normally takes longer than the physical recovery time because of the emotional upheaval that caused the injuries in the first place. That, along with the body image issues that a burn victim will typically deal with and have to learn to face.
It’s obvious Cam is knee-deep in self-loathing over his looks, and hasn’t left his room once without a T-shirt covering his torso. Except for the times London or I have slathered the ointment and massage the tight, raised and rippled skin on his back, he refuses to let us see him naked or shirtless.
I reach for London’s hand and pull her behind me as we ascend the staircase and up to the door of Cam’s room.
Knocking quietly, I open the door to find Cam laying on his side with his back to the door.
“We brought you a present. Can we come in?”
