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I sighed as he picked me up and carried me into the bathroom. "Frankly, sex is the last thing on my mind and has been since I got Elaine's message."
"I know. I won't push you. Let me take care of you."
I slipped out of his arms until my feet touched the floor, saying nothing while he stripped off my bra and panties so that I stood naked in front of him.
He said nothing, and then helped me into the bath, before rolling up his sleeves and kneeling by the tub.
"You're not going to join me?"
He shook his head. "This is all about you, not me. If I was to get in with you, I wouldn't be able to hold back."
I smiled and watched him as he took a bar of soap and started to lather up his hands. He washed my shoulders and neck first, then my arms. He rinsed me off with a pitcher of clear water, and then proceeded to wash my feet, one at a time, then my calves and knees. I watched him the whole time, my eyes never leaving his face. He studiously avoided my eyes, and I could see he was trying hard to concentrate on what he was doing.
"Kneel," he said and helped me into a kneeling position. Then he washed my breasts, his hands lingering over them, stroking them as if he was trying to ignite enough desire in me that I'd ask him to make love to me. I merely watched and enjoyed his strong surgeon's hands. He then washed my back and buttocks, sliding his hands between my thighs to wash me there, his eyes on mine, his breathing increasing. Finally, he rinsed me off once more and helped me out of the tub. I couldn't help but notice his erection straining at his jeans, but said nothing. He used a soft towel to dry me off, wiping my skin with gentle but thorough hands. Then, he led me to the bed once more and after he pulled back the covers and laid a large beach towel over the sheets, he helped me to lie on top of it on my stomach.
"Massage time," he said. I sighed and laid my head on my folded arms, waiting for the massage to begin. He removed his jeans but nothing else, his button down shirt still on with the sleeves rolled up. He straddled my thighs, poured some oil onto my back and began massaging me, his hands firm but gentle. He started at my neck and slowly moved down, over my shoulders and down my spine. He did a really thorough massage, and seemed knowledgeable about how to do it. I dozed off, I was so relaxed, and when he finished my back and started to turn me over, I blinked awake.
"Falling asleep on me, are you?"
"You give good massage," I replied, smiling, my eyes closed.
"Could you fall asleep right now?"
I yawned and nodded, snuggling down into the sheets. "I'm so tired…"
I heard him sigh, but instead of trying to get me into the mood, he merely pulled the covers up over me and left me on the bed. I was too relaxed to even speak and lay in the warmth of the bed, my muscles all relaxed, my breathing slow and deep. I heard the splash of water as he got in the tub and then after what seemed like only minutes, the lights dimmed in the apartment and the music stopped. When he crawled into the bed, naked, I was drifting off. I turned on my side, my back to him and he spooned against me, his arm around my body, hand under my breast as he always liked to lie. I felt his erection pressing against my back, but he did nothing.
"Good night, my love," he said, and kissed the back of my neck.
"Good night," I murmured, feeling safe and warm and relaxed for the first time since we arrived back in Manhattan.
After another long day at the hospital, during which time my father seemed to improve steadily, so that he was even able to stand for a few minutes with the help of a walker, we took Drake's car back to 8th Avenue and this time, because I had such a good sleep the night before and was relieved to see my father doing so well, I responded when Drake took me in his arms and kissed me deeply. Soon, we were taking off each other's clothes, impatient to be naked, him walking me backwards to the bed while I unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his jeans.
"God," he said, his voice breathless. "I feel like a teenage boy with his first girl."
"You don't feel like a teenage boy," I said, my hand stroking along his hard length. "You feel like a very excited man."
"I am very excited, Ms. Bennet. So excited, I think I have to tie you up to keep you from interrupting me with your social commentary."
Just when Drake kissed me again, his hands slipping up my naked body to cup my breasts, the phone rang. I immediately jerked back into full consciousness and tried to get up, but Drake held me. The answering machine clicked on at the third ring. It was Elaine.
"Drake, Kate, please call me right away. Ethan had another seizure and they've taken him down to get a CT."
I scrambled out of the bed to get to the phone but the answering machine clicked after she hung up and I picked up the receiver, gasping in dismay.
"Damn," Drake said and was immediately all business. He began buttoning his shirt. I was shaking already, my legs weak from fear.
"Oh, God," I said and looked in his eyes as I pulled on my bra, which he handed me. "He's had a seizure? Why? What would cause that? Another bleed?"
"Hard to say. After a hemorrhagic stroke, a patient is at a greater risk of developing seizures," he said, reaching for his jeans on the floor. "The area of the brain affected by the stroke sometimes misfires, leading to a seizure."
I stopped him as he bent to pull on his own clothes, my arm on his. "Will he die?"
He pulled up his jeans and shook his head. "If this is only a seizure and not the result of another bleed, he most likely will survive. But I can't say for sure unless I know the cause of the seizure. He's got the best surgeon in the country looking after him. If anyone can deal with this, it's Aaron."
I finished dressing, and then went to the washroom and brushed my hair back, fastening it into a loose bun. My gut clenched, a sinking feeling filling me. This was bad.
I felt tears threaten, but bit my lip to stop them. When I left the washroom, Drake was already in his boots and coat. He held my coat out for me. I pulled it on without a word and together, we went to the car.
