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“Because every time you undress me with your eyes, my clit throbs.” I couldn’t help myself. Sexy talk with Carson felt as natural as shopping for lurid lingerie. And wine helped.
His eyebrows shot up. “Am I that obvious?”
“Yep. You’ve got that same hooded stare as when you’re fucking me.”
“It’s not intentional. Must be a subconscious thing.” A slow, sexy smile grew on his face. “Probably at the mention of your throbbing clit.” His eyes softened to a shade of honey. “Do you want me to put it out of its misery?”
The throb intensified, only this time there was no stabbing pain, only need.
“Bram made a mess of my vagina.”
His playful smirk turned into a dark glower. “Fucking cunt. If I get a hold of him, I’ll rearrange him.”
“He’s not worth going to jail over.” My sober response hid the sudden fear gripping me. I would have lost my mind if Carson got locked up on my behalf.
“What do the doctors say?” His voice softened, and I breathed again.
Despite us descending into the dark topic of vendetta, Carson’s concern was touching.
“I probably won’t be able to give birth.” My voice cracked.
Silence filled the room as if someone had hit a mute button. As tears burned, Carson stared into my eyes. His lips were tight and his eyebrows pulled together as if he truly wished to help. In that unblinking, bordering-on-pained gaze, I not only read deep concern but also a restless need to fix this—to rip Bram apart.
No one else knew this, other than my mother. I couldn’t bring myself to share that heart-shattering prognosis.
Tears kept pouring out, washing over my cheeks. Turning to stoicism as a crutch, I hadn’t even cried on my mum’s shoulder while sharing this dark outcome. I acted like I didn’t care if I gave birth or not.
But it mattered.
A lot.
Being robbed of motherhood felt like losing a baby.
He kneeled at the side of my chair and put his arm around me.
“You’re a strong, healthy woman, Savanah. There’s a lot the medical profession can do these days.”
“I don’t know.” Tears kept coming like I’d burst an emotional artery.
He rose and walked away, returning with a box of tissues, and passed them to me.
I blew my nose and wiped my face. “At least it doesn’t hurt to pee anymore.”
He paced while rubbing his neck. “I can’t stand it. I need to see this fucking guy.”
I leaned over and grabbed his arm, which was so muscle-bound that a sizzle of desire travelled through me.
Maybe the wine had numbed away the pain from that attack, but then why did I feel so much throbbing and tingling desire?
“That’s why I came here, away from everything, to think about my future.”
He sat again. “And what does that look like?”
I knitted my fingers. “That question makes me want to pop a Xanax. Even the therapist couldn’t get an answer from me.” I chuckled coldly. “Everything seems so unclear. Blurry. I don’t think I’ve gotten over losing my dad.” I swallowed back a lump. “Before Dad died, I skipped through life, taking things for granted. At the back of my mind, I just assumed that one day I’d marry and have children.”
“Do you want that?” he asked. “Or is it because everyone expects that from you?”
“Well, I’m of the nonconforming kind.”
