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“Nope,” she said cheerfully. “I want information. I figure now’s the best time to get it, when you’re passed out and loopy on the cold meds Sara sprinkled in your juice since you’re a giant baby who can’t swallow pills.”
He didn’t remember juice. Had he drunk something? He did feel a little better. On a scale of one to ten, he’d made it to one. Improvement, since he’d been at a solid minus fifteen all day.
“Go ‘way,” he tried again.
“Sorry, not leaving ‘til you tell me what I want to know. I gotta make it quick, since Florence Nightingale ran to the store to get you some kind of chest rub. Which brings me to my first question.” She paused for dramatic effect that was mostly lost on him, due to the ever-present threat of unconsciousness. “What else has my best friend rubbed on you?”
“Huh?”
“Sara. You do remember her, right? She’s small and curvy and wicked smart. You’ve both been acting bizarre this week, which I couldn’t figure out until I saw her creeping out of your room naked this morning. Or yesterday morning now, since it’s Saturday. Then there was that stupid doll in her bed, a move that had your paw prints all over it. You learned that trick from me, though you totally forgot to stick pillows beneath the covers the length of her body. Plus you’re sick, and I’m not. So that makes me think you’ve been swapping spit.”
He grunted. Way too many words. What did they all mean?
“I know you’re sleeping together, I just want you to admit it. No details, mind you. I so don’t need those. But if this place is going to get really sickening now that you two are all lovebuzzy, maybe I should start staying at Greg’s.”
“Greg?” He pressed his face farther into his pillow and smiled dizzily. Sara. He could still smell her vanilla scent on his sheets. “Who’s Greg?”
“Look, snuffles, all I need is a yes or no. And please say yes, because I found something in your bathroom a little while ago that freaked me out and if it’s not Sara’s, well, I don’t want to know. But I may start sleeping in the basement. It was big and blue and fucking ginormous. Dude, does she really use that thing?”
He rolled over and pulled the pillow over his head. “King Kong.” He tried to smile and coughed instead. “Sara likes them big. Now go ‘way.”
Kim barked out a laugh and he winced, dragging his pillow over his ears. Make it stop. “Feel better, bro. Tell your nurse to give you a sponge bath, ‘kay?”
He was snoring before the door closed.
For more than two straight days, he slept. Sara had never heard anyone sleep that loudly. She figured it was probably a good thing she’d fallen for him before she’d learned he sawed them off, since it was kind of a mood killer.
Early on Labor Day, so early that the first hints of sunlight had begun to creep into Brad’s room, she crawled close to his back. She slid her arm around his waist, fully expecting him to shake her off as he had every other time she’d tried that move. She’d gotten in bed with him Saturday night once Kim had gone to sleep, and again last night when she’d left for Greg’s, and he’d been restless the whole time. The guy hadn’t stopped thrashing, even while unconscious. His fever had finally broken in the middle of the night. Since then he’d been more settled.
Sheesh, if she hadn’t known better, she would’ve believed he had malaria or something other than a simple flu bug. Kim chalked it up to men being gigantic babies. After seeing her big, strong guy totally felled by a cold, she was inclined to agree.
Sara cuddled closer and sighed. Oversized baby or not, he felt so good in her arms. She loved holding him, especially when he was asleep, and she could squeeze him tight without him being any the wiser.
Giving into her urge to explore his flat, ripped torso, she let her fingers wander down to his happy trail. She wouldn’t go any farther. Technically they’d broken up, and she shouldn’t have been in bed with him at all. He probably didn’t even realize she was with him. She sure hadn’t asked if she could grope him while unconscious.
As she pulled away, her hand accidentally brushed his groin. She snatched her arm back, eyes wide. Whoa. Some parts of him woke perkier than others, that was for sure.
“Don’t stop there.”
She blinked at his golden, muscled back. He didn’t so much as twitch. Had he really spoken, or was her tired brain imagining things? She hadn’t been getting a lot of rest while worrying about him—
“There’s a rule in this bed.” While she processed that yes, he was up—and not simply below the waist—and yes, he was speaking, he rolled over and pinned her to the mattress with surprising quickness, considering he’d been moaning and coughing for two days straight. “While in it, you get to touch anything you want.”
She glimpsed the wild blue of his eyes before his mouth landed on hers, tasting of cherry syrup, juice and honey cough drops. An oddly pleasant combination. She started to speak, needing to clarify some things before they jumped into sex again, but he’d already shoved up her flimsy nightgown and growled as he fought down her panties. “Stop wearing these. Slow me down,” he said, ripping them from her body as if they hadn’t cost fifty dollars.
Though really, who cared? She didn’t. Not when a hotter than hell guy was sliding down to fasten his mouth
between her legs, something he did with wonderful regularity without her even asking.
Well, except that first time. And okay, the second. Which didn’t even really count, since she’d been high on Nyquil for the first and still sickly for the second. Judging from what Brad was currently doing to her, that stuff was truly a miracle drug.
“You’re sick,” she gasped, rolling her hips into his thorough explorations. He left no millimeter of flesh unexamined. Even so, she still had most of her faculties until he started to tongue-fuck her, and then she didn’t care about anything but getting off.
She’d make it up to him later. Whatever he wanted. A half-dozen blowjobs, a new truck. A half-dozen blowjobs in his new truck. Or on the flatbed, beneath the stars. Maybe even on the hood. Hell, he could take her any-damn-where he felt like.
“You know what I want.” He did that growling thing against her pussy and the rumble reverberated through her lower belly, the vibrations adding one more layer to her excitement. She was trembling and panting and moaning so much that the neighbors would probably hear. He pushed two fingers into her, widening her as her pleasure spiraled higher. Then he thrust deep, brushing her G-spot with each pass while he tongued her clit. “In my mouth. Now. Give it to me.”
Some part of her thought she should resist his demands, lest they set up an impossible precedent. Woe if she got into a pattern where he expected her to come on command, and maybe even slacked off in his efforts to get her there. Better to edge back and play a little hard to get—
