It’s been nearly two weeks since DeShaun’s surgery, and it’s remarkable what happens when you’re not dealing with a layer of debilitating pain and limiting physical issues every day. He’s lighter, brighter, and cuddlier than I’d have imagined. I even caught him the other day, skating his fingers along his new skin, like a kid discovering his own body for the first time.
Even though his knee will never again be one hundred percent, it’s a damn sight better and far less painful than it was before. We’ve been spending time at Wrecked and he’s driven to bring symmetry back to his legs. This, of course, means he’s been kicking my ass on the weights. One of these days I won’t be the first to tap out, but that was not today. Tomorrow doesn’t look good either.
As he continues to take me apart with just his tongue on my ear, it strikes me as funny that the only point of contention for him is the progress of his erections. I think the practice is the fun part, but he grumbles when he comes too fast, and he’s upset that the progress toward a full hard-on is slow. When I told him that he was just being hard on himself, his response was, “Not hard enough.”
The fact of the matter is that, despite his complaints that he’s only half-hard, he gets nearly fully erect now—right now, as a matter of fact—and just needs to get a little bit harder for anal. I’m not in any rush, which is good because he nearly eviscerated me with a look when I suggested an erectile dysfunction pill.
“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” he asks, rubbing my belly as he shifts to kissing my shoulder.
“Just that I’ve liked spending this time with you in our little hideaway.”
“Me too,” he says as other folks from Wimberley join the call. I’ve been concerned about him watching the feed, but this is a simple takedown, and maybe it’s a way for DeShaun to have less of a trigger when guns are involved.
Not that any of that matters when he returns to my ear, switching from the nubby top of his tongue to the silky underside on the downstroke, and his soft breaths send a trill of electricity down my neck, straight to my groin. I nearly drop the laptop.
“DeShaun, this is serious, I have to pay atten—mmmnnn.”
The mission comes up as I stifle the moan building in the back of my throat.
Hedy does a quick check-in with everyone on the call. “Is someone breathing heavily on the line? You sound like a perv.”
I scramble for the mute button, missing it as the laptop drops to the ground when DeShaun nips the soft, fleshy part of my ear. My lips thin and my eyes widen as I grab the laptop and finally hit the mute button. He bites his generous bottom lip, letting it drag out between his teeth as he looks me over, possessive and proud.
“DB, seriously. I have to pay attention. They’re my team too.”
Inhaling my scent as he runs his nose up my cheek, he replies, “Fine then. To be continued.”
He settles in next to me, caring not one wit that he’s given me an ear boner. I shiver, trying to shake out some of the excess lust so I can concentrate. He asks, “How does it work to give him over to DHS without them coming after us?”
I grimace, pretty sure he’ll hate the answer. “The guy who bankrolls Wimberley has people in every cabinet-level agency.” I was right about his reaction.
Our attention is drawn back to the screen when Edison knocks on Greg’s hotel room door, Arye at his side. Greg opens the door in workout gear and startles when he sees the two impressively muscled men. Even in khakis and hotel polos, those two just look like special forces.
“Uh, can I help you?”
Arye rolls his eyes, already bored with the op. Dangling a pair of handcuffs from his fingers, he asks, “Do you wanna do this the easy way or the hard way?”
Snarling, Greg presents his wrists. Edison turns him around, cuffing him behind his back. They head down the escalator and put Greg in the back of the SUV. Arye hops in next to him and Edison takes off down the road.
DeShaun and I look at each other. That was weirdly easy. Hedy’s voice comes on the call. “All right, well, that was fast. You’re welcome to stay on the feed for the handover, or I can brief you later.”
DeShaun silently pulls me onto his lap, his eyes dark and hooded with intent. “We’ll be fine with a brief after the fact.”
I melt a little when he kisses my cheek. “Thanks for sharing the feed, Hedy.”
“Sorry it wasn’t more entertaining.”
“No worr—” DeShaun’s teeth find my earlobe and I lose the ability to form coherent sentences. He’ll stop if I ask him to, but…I don’t wanna. “No worries, Hedy. We’ll let you get back to it.”
She laughs softly. “And I’ll let you get back to whatever’s making you breathe heavy.”
DeShaun’s self-satisfied chuckle can be heard through the line.
“All righty then, gotta go.”
I flip around, straddling DeShaun’s lap as we hang up. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he says, kissing my jaw.
