Page 96 of I’m Already Gone

Every breath feels like a silent prayer of gratitude, not only for Ethan being here with me in my most vulnerable moment, but that he chose to be.

Ethan

Breasts I haven’t seen for years. And my dick remembers. The bastard throbs, a stiff salute to the woman standing before me. I swallow hard, fighting the lump of emotion that is threatening to choke me.

I hate how she’s looking away, chin tucked into her chest, shoulders rounded in a posture of shame. Has her body changed? Yes. The chemo and the sickness have carved away at her, leaving sharp angles where her curves used to be. Regardless, I love every inch of her body because she’s still my Sunshine. My light.

I tip her chin with my finger, lifting her gaze until those wide silver eyes meet mine. “Hey,” I say softly, rubbing the pad of my thumb on her cheek. “You’re safe with me.”

Her eyelids flutter, and a small, faint smile appears.

“I’m going to lift you, Sunshine, and I want you to hang on tight while I push down your underwear, okay?”

She responds with a nod.

“Ready? On three.” I wrap my arms around her waist, my hands careful to avoid any sensitive spots, and whisper in her ear, “One. Two. Three.”

She manages to wrap her arms around my neck and stands on her own feet, leaning heavily into my support.

“Good. Are you still doing okay?” I ask.

“Yeah. I’m okay,” she whispers, her breath warm against my neck.

“I’m going to remove your panties now,” I inform her.

With one arm bracing her back, I use my free hand to slide down her cotton underwear, my knuckles brushing the thin, delicate skin of her inner thigh. Her panties catch momentarily behind her knees, but I curl my finger on the edge and slide them down until the fabric pools around her dainty feet.

“Okay, Lily. I’m going to pick you up now.”

“Okay,” she mumbles against my chest.

I scoop her up, one arm under her knees, the other supporting her back, lifting her frail weight against my chest. The contact is electric. Her bare skin, the curve of her hip, and then the soft, warm press of her mound against the rigid, unforgiving length of my erection, straining the denim of my jeans.

Lily tenses, taking a sharp intake of breath.

“Please ignore it,” I grit out. “I’m sorry, Sunshine.”

She doesn’t reply, but her body relaxes a fraction as I maneuver us into the shower stall. The warm water hits us instantly.

“Ethan, your clothes!” she shrieks, a sound that holds a hint of her old self.

I laugh. “Relax. It’s not the first time I’ve ended up soaked still wearing clothes because of you.”

I look down at her just in time to see a blush bloom across her neck and cheeks. That memory, the first time we had sex in the shower, was from my second year in college. She came to visit me on campus after being separated for three grueling months. The second she stepped through the door, it was like a fuse had been lit. We ended up in the shower, clothes and all, desperate to get our hands on each other.

I smile at the memory, and my dick gets even harder.

I inhale sharply, looking up at the ceiling, trying to focus on the textured tile, the chrome fixture, anything to get my head out of the gutter and my body to cooperate.

“Ethan, I can sit on the shower chair.”

A fresh wave of guilt washes over me. That simple detail makes this whole situation more challenging to handle, knowing what her life is like now because of this fucking cancer.

Holding back the sudden burn of tears, I pull her tighter. “I’m not leaving you alone, Lily. I’m going to sit you down, okay? Right on that chair.”

She nods against my neck, a silent acknowledgment of my stubborn refusal to leave her side.

I take a few careful steps, balancing her weight, and lower her onto the plastic chair.