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“You’re really sick,” I stated, making it not a question but more of a disappointed grumble.
She winced and pressed a hand to her stomach. “I think it must have been the shrimps.”
I shook my head. “No. I had the shrimps too. I’m fine.”
“You’re also twice my size,” she retorted. “Anything that hits me will have less of an effect on you.”
I snorted. “I’m not sure salmonella works like that.” I watched as she sagged against the teak door frame—she looked wrecked. Totally wiped out.
Guilt filled me; here I was grumbling about her being sick and she was actually being sick.
I felt like an asshole. Considering I was being an asshole, I figured it was appropriate.
“Here, sweetheart,” I crooned in a gentle voice as I approached her then bent and tugged her into my arms. She was getting better with my approaching her. At the start, she’d have flinched. Even months on, she’d have started a tad, but now, she just sagged into me.
It was either a testament to how shit she was feeling or that she trusted me.
I preferred to think it was the latter over the former.
Not that my dick moves deserved it.
She sank into me like a limp noodle and moaned and as she turned her face into my throat. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I hate this.”
“Of course you do. I hate that you’re sick too,” I told her matter-of-factly, not even grunting when she whacked my arm.
“You know what I mean.”
“I do. But, also, I don’t care. I have the rest of my life to make you come, Jessica. I can wait until you’re better.”
That had her chuckling, and my grin widened at the sound. “You’re a jerk.”
“Hardly. I can’t help that now you’ve had a taste of me, you can’t get enough.”
That had her lifting her head back to stare up at me. “I really can’t,” she whispered softly.
I winked at her. “I know.” Then, in a breezy tone, I murmured, “Now, do we need to call the doctor?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I really think it must have been the shrimp.”
I tilted my head to the side, a thought occurring to me. Hell, it should have occurred to me before now. Thoughts of periods cock-blocking me should have made the yellow light flash over my head in neon brilliance.
“Jessica?”
“Yeah?”
“When was the last time you had your period?”
For a second, she stilled. She’d been plucking at the sheet on the bed beneath her, but my question had her hand freezing. “What?”
“You heard me,” I whispered hoarsely. Stunned by where my thoughts had led.
“I-I… No.” She shook her head again.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I had one last month.”
I thought back to last month and it was my turn to shake my head. “No. I pretty much ate you out every day last month.” And everything else included.
