She held her breath to see what he would do.
“Where is your oil or body cream?” His voice was quiet, gentle. “In the bathroom or in the drawer in the nightstand?”
Sierra forced her body to relax. “In the bathroom.”
“Okay, be right back.” It didn’t take him long to retrieve her bottle of coconut oil and set it on the side table. As he strode toward the door again, he added, “Just going to warm up the towels in the dryer.”
She was once again surprised by his thoughtfulness; she’d never thought to warm up towels when her leg would spasm in bed. So Sierra laid there, waiting for his return but still rubbing her leg as more spasms rolled in.
Eventually, she felt the warmth of the towels settling onto the back of her thigh below her buttocks and on her calf; the heat felt so good, she couldn’t help the moan that escaped. The lid for her coconut oil popped open and Jacob rubbed it over his hands. Lifting the towel off her thigh, he began to rub the liquid in, smoothing up to the bend in her knee and then back again with long sweeps of his hands. Slowly, he applied pressure onto the muscles with his fingers. She let out another moan, but this time in pain. It hurt, but she knew it needed to be done for themuscle to relax. He took his time with the massage, and when he was done, he then covered it again with a fresh hot towel, before moving on to her calf muscle. He repeated the massage again, then gently lifted her leg and gave it a little shake.
He was almost as good as her physiotherapist was and suddenly thought she should reach out to her to see if she could start seeing him while she was here, especially after the surgery. Then, she froze and sucked in a breath of surprise when he used his fingertips to apply firm, circular motions directly on the scar that ran the length of her thigh to her calf.
“Like this, right? This is how the physiotherapist at the hospital did it.”
Sierra paused, trying to understand what he meant. “Did you watch me when I was taking physiotherapy?” Her question was quiet, unsure; she thought he would stop what he was doing and simply tell her she was crazy.
“Yes.” He didn’t stop, continuing the circular massage on her scar.
“Why?” She said, confused by this information.
“Because I am not a complete monster, Sierra. You were my wife and the mother of my child. I still wanted you to be okay.” His voice was gentle, surprised to hear him speaking to her this way. “I went to check on you and watched your sessions with the physiotherapist.”
Sessions?Sierra didn’t know what to say. During their marriage, he was often too hard to read. Only when they were in bed together could she feel close to him. She had felt so alone then, but if she had known he was there, watching her progress, would she have continued to work on herself and change?
She reached back and took his hand in hers. “Thank you and for helping me now.”
He slid his hand out from under hers and cleared his throat. “Like I said, I’m not a complete monster.”
Silence fell between them again as he continued to work on the back of her leg. With the pain soothed, Sierra felt so relaxed and drowsy. However, she perked up when he said, “Turn so I can work on the muscles in the front.”
Now supine and slightly propped up, Sierra watched him work on her, his head bent as he concentrated on his task. His dark hair was longer again; she liked it short but there was something charming about the slight curl his hair would have when it grew out. Her gaze trailed down to the dark T-shirt he was wearing, how it stretched across his chest, then to his bare arms and how the muscles rippled while he worked. And dark denim always suited him.
She let out a sleepy, contented sigh. The cramping had begun to ease, and now she was enjoying his touch, not wanting him to stop.
Sierra shivered; the heat from the towels couldn’t account for the heat rising through her body. The feel and warmth of his fingers on her now changing from a massage to something more for her. Her nipples began to get hard. She could never stop herself from reacting to him. She avoided him so she didn’t upset his life, but also because she knew this would happen to her. But the more he caressed her leg, the deeper she began to sink. His hands made their way back up and his fingers pressed against the flesh near her inner thigh, close to her panties. She could feel her dew begin to dampen the fabric, and began to close her legs in embarrassment.
Then their eyes met.
He was not as unaffected as she thought. His pupils were dilated, and he was flushed along the neckline. His hands didn’t stop their work, and he gently pushed her legs back open. Sierra shuddered as his fingers grazed the edge of her panties and close to her entrance.
Her lips parted, but before she could speak, he shook his head. “Don’t say anything. Just open for me, I need to smell and taste you. Just let me taste you and then we will stop.”
She obeyed, letting her legs drop open; he reached for the top of her underwear and slid it down her hips. Raising herself slightly allowed him to pull them off. Not breaking eye contact with her, he shifted her legs up and placed her feet against the mattress; he made room for himself inside of her open thighs.
She knew he was a man that liked eating pussy, especially hers.
He gently gripped her hips. “Are you okay, are you up to this? Is your leg okay now?”
Sierra almost screamed in frustration. She was so close. “Yes, just shut up and eat me. I need this.”
A laugh escape him. “There she is”
She stiffened, afraid of what he meant.
“No relax, this is the part of you I’ve always liked. Never afraid to demand what your body needed from me. And only me.” The huskiness of his voice struck deep into her core.
He stroked feather-light kisses up her inner thigh, starting from the crease in her knee all the way to where she was hot and waiting. She let out a sigh as he did the same to the other one; it felt very nice. She felt like she was being adored and catered to. This suddenly felt different from the past. Often, shehad been the one directing him where she needed it most, but this time he took the lead.
