Page 24 of My Wicked Virgin


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“I’m sorry.” Sunny squeezed her hand. “I haven’t been thinking clearly lately. I’ve had these terrible migraines, and they’ve made me very…irritable.”

“They’ve made you an evil bitch,” Hawk said in a surprisingly gentle voice. “You need to take your medication.”

“Not here, Hawk, not now. Please.” Sunny released the other woman’s hand and laid her cheek on Hawk’s chest. “I’m so tired.”

Gathering her into his arms, Hawk whispered, “I should take you home with me, make you quit working here, take you to and from school myself. You can’t go on like this, beloved.”

Turning her face to his chest, she nosed aside the leather so she could rest her skin against his. Thanks to his Native American heritage, he barely had any chest hair, so his skin was so smooth and soft. The heat rising from him comforted her further, as did the cedar and spice cologne he wore.

For a moment. she was so very tempted to just give in, to let him take over. She was bone deep tired, and it felt like she was crawling toward the finish line of her degree over broken glass. But if she could just hold on a little longer, she could finish and always know that she did it on her own. That she was strong enough.

That she was good enough for a man as wonderful as Hawk.

“Just a few more months,” she whispered as the pounding in her head went from a background noise to a persistent ache. “Please, I’m almost there. I need your support right now, bad.”

He pressed a series of light kisses to her face, his love making her skin tingle and easing the pain in her head. “Whatever you need, you know I’ll give it to you. Always.”

“I know,” she whispered as she gave his collarbone a soft kiss. “I know.”

A few weeks later at work, sharp bursts of pain throbbed behind her eyes, and she tried to remember if she could take another over the counter painkiller. When the promise of a migraine made her vision slightly blurry, she wanted to weep with frustration. What had started off as annoying headaches had grown to become blinding migraines, and she kept hoping they’d go away. Unfortunately, they seemed to be growing worse.

“You need to go to a doctor,” Hawk’s familiar voice said from next to her.

They were at Club Wicked, but she wasn’t working tonight. Instead, she was there to help Jesse and Anya celebrate the announcement that they were expecting a baby. Yes, to some it might seem weird to have a baby celebration at a BDSM bar, but it was where Jesse and his circle of friends went to relax and hang out. Well, relax and have a whole lot of kinky sex. Not all of them were exhibitionists, but a quite a few were. They were in one of the smaller bars, the Lavender room, which was done up like a sleek 1930s jazz club. The mood was mellow but happy, and nearby a woman laughed loud enough that it made Sunny’s head want to split in two.

Hawk shifted on the deep purple velvet couch where they sat across from Kira and Lord Bryan. “Beloved, please. It is killing me to see you such agony. You’ve lost weight, you have severe mood swings, you’re forgetting things, and your headaches have reached the debilitating stage. I don’t care what your doctor said, you need to go see a specialist. This is not normal.”

When Hawk touched the side of her face, Sunny practically wept with relief. There was something about him that made her feel better, no matter what. Even when she was angry with him, his touch made her feel complete. Whole.

“I’ll be okay,” she whispered, still not moving her cheek or opening her eyes. “Just give me a moment.”

“Has your head been hurting all day?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you take the medicine your doctor gave you?”

“I don’t want to take them unless I have to.”

“You haven’t taken a single one, have you?”

She didn’t bother to respond. He knew she hadn’t. They’d fought bitterly over her refusal to use prescribed narcotics, but she wouldn’t budge. Her mother’s latest mugshot kept flashing through her head, a horrifying reminder of what she could become.

“Susanna,” Hawk whispered in his deep, rich voice that set a million pairs of panties ablaze in his movies. “Tomorrow we’re going to the doctor.”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Susanna,” he repeated. His voice threaded with steel. “We are going to the doctor tomorrow.”

“But, Hawk…”

“It is killing me to see you in pain. Please, it hurts me to see you like this. I’m so worried about you.”

His words brought back uncomfortable memories of her begging her mom to get help using similar words. The comparison startled her, and even with her brain trying to melt inside her skull, she didn’t like how clearly she suddenly saw herself. While she was busy being a martyr, she was hurting Hawk, and that was unacceptable.

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