"Hey. You don't seem too happy that I'm here."
"I'm always happy when you're here," he grumbles.
"Well, alright. But you don't seem too happy that I'm helping you out after your surgery."
"I just don't want to be a burden," he mumbles.
"You're not a burden at all and don't forget that you once took care of me," I say, squeezing his arm. "And I love taking care of you. I'm in love with you, Flint."
His golden-brown eyes meet mine, and he gives me a small smile.
I lean over and give him a kiss. "Love you."
"Love you too."
I end up falling asleep while reading my book, sitting on his recliner by the fire, and wake up to an excruciating yell coming from the bedroom. I jump up, grabbing his meds from the countertop, and rush in to find him partially sitting up, moaning in pain.
"Here. Take this," I say, giving him his pill and handing him the bottle of water by his bedside.
Then I uncover his hurt leg, closing my eyes and moving my hands above it while muttering the same incantation I used for Hope on Christmas Day. The pained moans lessen, and then I hear him breathe out a sigh of relief.
"How did I get such an amazing woman to fall in love with me?"
"By being you," I answer, leaning down and pressing my lips against his.
"Don't sleep out there. Sleep next to me. There's plenty of room."
"Alright. But I won't be insulted if you have to kick me out because you're not comfortable."
"Get in here," Flint says, lifting the blanket next to him.
Opening the window to let in the sweet April breeze, then grab the sandwich I made for Flint and walk over to him sitting on the recliner with his foot up in the boot.
"You know what I just realized? That's coming off a week from today," I say, handing him the plate.
"Good. And you can stop spending all of your time taking care of me," he grumbles before biting the sandwich.
"I don't spend all my time taking care of you. I'm literally almost done with my latest cover job."
"I want to see it," Flint says, so I grab my tablet to show him.
"Damn, my girlfriend is talented," he mutters as he flips through the images, then places his plate down on the side table, pulling me onto his lap.
"Did you just get hard from looking at my work?" I tease him, feeling his arousal pressing against me.
"I get hard every time I see you," Flint quips.
"One more week, and then you'll be cleared, hopefully."
"What's one week?" He says, rubbing up against me, and I giggle.
"You really want to risk it?"
"I can just lie here, and you do all the work on top," he teases.
Standing up, I wiggle out of my yoga pants and t-shirt. His hungry eyes scan my body as I slip off my panties and tear off my bra. I slide his ready cock out of his gray sweatpants, stroking it as I grin at him, then climb on top, straddling his lap and doing my best to avoid his boot.
"It's been so damn long," he growls, grabbing my ass as I help him enter me.
