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I close my eyes and drift away with the sensations he’s created inside me. My head is tingling at his vibrations. The feeling cascades down my spine. My animal arousal is waking up, like it recognizes him. As if he’s the one this body and soul have been waiting for.
I open my eyes. “Are you going to kiss me?”
He rumbles out. “Not in an emergency room, but hell yes. When I get you out of here, and as soon as I’m sure you’re OK, I’m going to kiss you so hard you might even remember your real name.”
I feel myself gasp. My nipples harden. My inner folds contract with arousal.
“I’m OK, I told you. Just kiss me.” I insist.
He emits a deep, soft growl. Eventually, he leans back, away from me, but keeps his arm around me.
“Let’s talk about something else,” he says.
I nod my head yes, grasping for a new subject to discuss.
“So your grandfather is a doctor?”
He smiles when I refer to the Pops he mentioned. It’s a genuine, wide smile and I’m grateful he has a family he feels connected to.
“My dad. I call him Pops because, well, that’s just who he is. A neurologist. Single dad. All around badass.”
“I like anybody who can make you smile like that just thinking about them.”
“Assuming we ever get you the hell out of this place, you’ll meet him tonight.”
“I will?”
Shep nods solemnly. “I’m not letting you out of my sight, and I have a ride-or-die dinner every Friday night with the man, so, yes. You’ll meet him tonight.”
I look down at the gym clothes I’m wearing. “I’m hardly dressed for that.”
Shep’s hand cups my shoulder and gives it a comforting squeeze. “He’ll love you the second he meets you. Just like anyone else would, I imagine.”
I laugh. “You are quite the smooth talker,” I say. If we weren’t sitting in a germ-ridden emergency room, I would be straddling his lap and pressing my breasts against that Cortex logo stretched across his sculpted chest.
I have got to get us talking and not flirting, so I ask him more about Pops.
What he tells me makes me all the more crazy about him.
“He was an up-and-coming doctor when he decided he wanted to raise a child. He plucked me out of foster care as an infant.
“Nobody wanted to adopt me as a baby because I was a very scary case, due to seizures. He was a young divorced man at the time, who’d had a streak of bad luck in relationships due to his demanding career, but, wanting a family, he decided to do it on his own.
“He always told me I was an easy choice, because my issues didn’t scare him. He wanted a child with brown skin to grow up with a parent who understood what it meant to grow up black in this community. Not that he had a problem with mixed-race adoption, he was just on a personal mission and I was the perfect fit.”
I look down into my lap. I can’t help but feel a void. There’s no similar story for me.
“I wish I could remember someone caring that fervently for me,” I say.
“Maybe someone does,” Shep says. “I find it pretty damn hard to believe that nobody is looking for you.”
I hold up my left hand. “No ring.”
Shep and I exchange a look that tells me he’s already taken inventory of my lack of wedding band.
He weaves the fingers of his free hand in between mine. It feels like we mustn’t get away from each other.
My gaze goes past Shep’s face and lands on something familiar. Someone familiar.
