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Tyler
“I’ve got it,” Amara hurries to stand, taking my cup from me. “You rest.”
I smile looking back as she hurries to the kitchen and puts my cup in the sink. Busying herself, she moves around the space, cleaning the countertop, putting away the dishes and folding the dish towel to lay it over the edge of the sink.
When she turns around to face me she finds me watching her.
“What?” She freezes looking around like she’d forgotten something.
“Come here,” I tap the empty space at my side and wait for her to join me. For the last few days this woman has taken care of me. She’s given me my meds, though I’m sure I could have done it all on my own I gave in and let her handle it all. It’s something that is not in my nature, I’m not the guy that likes to feel out of control.
I lead the way, I take charge.
But being here at Amara’s waking up to her, rubbing my back, combing her fingers through my hair and caring for me is different. She does it all in such a way that I don’t feel like an invalid.
Sitting down beside me, I turn my body to face hers and slide the palm of my hand over her thigh. “Thank you,” I whisper, my throat feeling slightly raw.
“For what?”
“Everything,” my ribs ache, my elbow throbs, but I’d suffer through all the pain to have her closer. So grabbing hold of her hip I start to pull her toward me, and she stops me.
“Ty,” shaking her head, I ignore her protest.
“I’m fine,” assuring her I try again. “I know what I can handle and right now, I want you closer.” She is hesitant but when she quickly realizes I have no intentions of not following through she straddles me.
“I miss you,” confessing this feels strange but honestly the last several days feel like a blur. She’s been right at my side, but I’ve been so out of it, I feel like we are miles apart.
“I’m right here,” she dips her chin and looks me in the eyes. “How can you miss me; I’ve been annoying you for days?”
Biting her lip to fight her smile I lift my free hand and cup the side of her neck, pulling her in closer. “You are so far from annoying,” pressing my lips to hers I glide my tongue over the seam of her lips and they part. Without pause I feel her tongue tangle with mine and I let go of her neck to grip her ass and slide her forward.
“Tyler,” she protests within our kiss, and I practically chase her to regain control.
“No,” I growl, “You have to trust me to know when I can’t handle this.” My body is humming with the desire to feel her. “I’m a big boy, Amara.”
It takes a moment for her to accept but when she does she shifts her hips and I know I’ve got her. Yes, one arm in a sling makes things difficult. I want more than anything to grab hold of her, flip her onto the couch and devour her, but I can’t. I want to grip her hips and hold her tight while thrusting upward only to watch her fall apart.
Weakness isn’t something that sits well with me.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Mar seems hesitant, and I know she is referring to hurting me physically. But I can’t seem to stop the words that roll around in my head and fall from my lips.
“The only way you can hurt me is if you leave me,” I’m aware of what I’ve just confessed, but if what took place at our last call-out has taught me anything, it's that I need to be honest and take what I want. Time wasted is moments you can’t get back.
I don’t want to waste any more.
Amara’s eyes widen for a moment, surprised I’m sure by my words.
“I need you.”
“You have me,” she whispers.
Pressing my lips to hers again we manage to get lost in our kiss. With Amara it’s so easy to do.
Pulling back, I open my eyes and wait for her to do the same. When I know that she is alert, and can focus, I tell her what’s been on my mind for days. “I’ve never wanted this,” she worries her lower lip but I continue on knowing that any doubt she may have will soon be washed away or so I hope. “I’ll confess I’ve liked my freedom; I’ve liked being able to go where I want and do what I want and to not have anyone I’ve had to worry about. But this...” I drag my thumb over her lower lip, kissing her once more. “You have taken me by surprise,” I’m not this guy, I’m not emotional and sentimental. I don’t confess all my woes and I definitely don’t do vulnerable, but with Amara I’m all those things and more. “This is what I want, you,” I press my forehead to hers, closing my eyes tightly. “Youare all I want.”
* * *
I wake to an empty bed and a note on the bedside table.
