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28
Caiti
Murmuring voices rousesme from restless sleep. The hard plastic chair beneath me creaks as I maneuver into an upright position. The sterile smell of antiseptics wafts into my nose. Through blurry eyes, I take in the three people staring at me and tame my wild hair into an acceptable mess without the use of a brush. Dane’s thumb strokes over my hand where our fingers lay entwined on his crisp hospital bed. The deadened sensation in my limb is almost enough to have me pulling my hand back. Almost. After yesterday, I wouldn’t mind making the attachment permanent.
“Sorry,” I mumble through a yawn. “What time is it?”
“It’s just after nine in the morning,” a woman in purple scrubs informs. I don’t know if she’s a nurse or a CNA. Exhaustion steals my ability to care.
“Did you sleep?” I ask Dane. His tender smile settles some of the flutters in my chest, the remnants of my morning anxiety.
“A little. I mostly watched you.” He averts his gaze to our hands. Words unsaid hang in the air between us. Yesterday’s events will affect us, probably for a long time.
I should feel shy knowing he watched me sleep, but all I can seem to muster is the love I finally set free. “We’ll get you some rest at home.”
Dane’s gaze returns to mine, downright hot and needy. A thousand promises swirl in the deep depths, communicating the last thing on his mind is rest.
My hand settles at the base of my throat, the nervous habit coming up empty when I clutch for the vial no longer there. I relax my shoulders and release a solid breath. Dane doesn’t seem to miss the motion, a small furrow marring his brow.
“I was just telling him the good news that we’re letting him go.” The woman smiles at me and begins unstrapping wires from Dane’s body. “I’ll remove this IV, and we’ll start the discharge paperwork.”
“That’s great. Thank you,” Dane answers, his eyes not leaving mine.
“There’s a bag here with some fresh clothes. Nathan dropped it off after you arrived last night.” I rush off to the tiny closet, retrieve the black duffel, and set it in the bathroom. “Can I help you?”
Dane chuckles. “I have an ankle injury, Mama. I think I can manage.”
He eases off the bed, and I rush into his space. The need to do something productive wells up inside of me after feeling so helpless yesterday. His hands settle on my hips, warm and weighted, slightly depressing my flesh there. He tucks his chin into his chest. “But if you want to join me and close the door, I won’t oppose.”
Heat suffuses my cheeks. I slide my hands up his arms to settle on his hard chest. “Hurry up and change so we can get home,” I utter and loop my wrists around his neck.
He’s off like a man on a world-saving mission. Faster than I would have assumed with only one decent leg, Dane’s dressed, ready, and fighting the young guy working discharge about taking the wheelchair downstairs. After hearing hospital policy reiterated three times, he seats himself, rather grumpily though I find his scowl cute, into the chair, allowing the poor guy to push him to the curb.
The first step into a new day filled with sun and warmth feels like the first day of a brand new life. One I’m more than ready to start with this man by my side.
Irritable tension rolling off Dane during the ten-minute drive back to his apartment is tangible. Even though I’m in the driver’s seat, his hand sits possessively on my upper thigh. Need wells inside of me from the proximity. Depressing the gas pedal evenly becomes a chore. His desire to take care of me and do manly things like drive his woman around push him to the edge. How he’ll ever manage to stay off his foot and rest is beyond me. The man is a machine on an average day. Give him a challenge, and he won’t quit until he defeats the task.
Walking into Dane’s loft is like a welcome home. A few of Ophelia’s toys are scattered across the floor. Dirty lunch dishes remain in the sink where I meant to load them into the dishwasher after our walk to the preschool. In many ways, it feels like a lifetime has passed between that hopeful moment of new beginnings and this morning at the hospital.
“Let me take you to bed,” Dane grunts. Dark circles ring his lower lids. His furrowed brow sends a pang of worry through me.
“I think it’s the other way around, big man. Let me help you.” I sling his arm over my shoulder, settling into the warm weight and the length of his torso pressed against mine. Feeling him close, his comforting smell, hearing his lungs working, I can breathe easier. I gingerly wrap my arm around his waist, curling my fingers into the elastic band of his sweats. “I’ve got you.”
He presses a lingering kiss to the top of my head. “I know you do.”
When we reach the bedroom, he crawls straight to the center of the bed, settling down with an arm slung across his eyes.
My strong, beautiful, brave, selfless man…I think I know what he needs, but I don’t want to overstep. I toe off my shoes and settle on my knees beside him, tracing my finger along the coarse hair covering his other arm. “I’m here.”
He flips his hand around and latches onto my wrist, his grip nearly painful. “Come here,” he grunts, his voice gruff. I squeeze tight against his side as the first heaving sob wracks his body.
“Fuck.” His arm leaves his eyes long enough for his fist to drive into the mattress at his side. “I fucking need you, Caiti.”
“I’m here.” I get out before he’s hauling me up and settling me on his torso. A hand tangles in my hair, and his mouth crashes against mine. A desperation from the depths of his soul pours into me, filling me up.
He breaks away, a confession on his lips. “I need to feel you.”
I breathe life into him and swear promises with my kiss. I swallow his sharp cry of distress down my throat as I let him release everything pent up for the last twenty-four hours. “I’m here,” I pull away to mumble. He doesn’t let me get far before he drags me back against him.
Dane grabs the hem of my shirt, the tug signifying his intentions. I lift my chest, allowing him to yank the cotton straight over my head. With a flick, my bra unsnaps, and he tears it away. Then he draws my small tits straight to his mouth and sucks a sensitive nipple between his lips.
I grind against him, the ridge of his hard erection the perfect friction against my clit. His other hand starts shoving the material of my leggings down. I lift up in my straddle to shimmy them off my legs. Once freed, he takes me to my back in his bed and shoves his sweatpants down his hips. His dick is beautiful and thick, and I clench at the sight.
Taking him into my hand, I pump his hardness twice before I lose contact. He descends my body. His mouth trails kisses along my sternum, pausing to dip his tongue in my belly button and trace the stretch marks along my lower stomach before continuing his rapid descent.
He doesn’t bother with pleasantries before reacquainting himself with the most intimate part of me. Without preamble, his mouth is there, attacking, licking, sucking, probing. My fingers sift and clutch the dark strands of his hair to guide him where I want him most as my hips rise from the bed to greet him.
“I want to consume every inch of you.” He eases two thick fingers inside me in a delicious stretch. My neck arches on the pillow behind my head. “I want to drown in you until I’m forced to come up for air.”
As if to prove his point, he redoubles his efforts, driving me to the brink in half a minute. The orgasmic climb is straight bliss beneath his skillful hands and mouth. Even though he’s the one who needs taking care of, he still proves his selflessness by attending to me first.
“Dane, baby, I’m going to come.” I barely have time to gasp the words before he tips me over the edge of pleasure. My stomach clenches, waves wracking my body in tremors.
“That’s it, pretty girl. Come all over my tongue and show me who you belong to.”
He swipes through my slick center once more before crawling directly up my body. Without further distractions, he takes his hard dick in his hand. I hitch my calves around his trim hips and dig my heels into his ass. With one hard thrust, he glides deep and seats himself fully inside.
