“I’m going to go clean up,” I murmured, my face heating.
“You don’t have to do anything special for me,” he said, and there was no mistaking we were talking about what we’d both been so hot for earlier on that sidewalk in front of the courthouse.
“It’s for me. I want to look good.”
He chuckled. “You already do.”
Huffing, I made my way past him into the house, and my face was on fire again, but I only felt happy, and that was a first. I rubbed at my chest as I limped along. The bathroom was small, and it was a damned good thing I wasn’t feeling too shitty because the wheelchair wouldn’t have made it in here. Since I didn’t even own a chair right now, I didn’t worry about it much, even though I probably should have. Maybe the fact that I knew Drew wouldn’t let anything bad that happened linger unresolved made me more optimistic. He’d help me any way I needed, and he’d already proven that loud and clear. It was nice to close the door on the bathroom and know that no one I didn’t want to see me naked could get in here.
The bathroom wasn’t huge—but it was charming. There was an old white clawfoot tub in one corner with a window situated perfectly for looking out at the sky but not flashing the neighbors. On the other side of the room was a shower, and when I opened the glass door, there was a strange blue-and-gray rocky bottom that seemed unused. I put a foot on the rocks and my throat almost closed up. They were tasteful slip grips, probably newly installed to keep me from busting my ass on the floor if I was having a bad day, and there were also sturdy railings on the side with the wall tiles that probably hadn’t been there a week ago.
The care Drew had taken made me think about all the other kindness I’d missed out on or had taken for granted, and my head was full of awfulness as I turned on the hot water. In part, the way I was feeling brought up my regret over Angel, but I still had no idea how to fix the issues with my son.
I washed my hair, twice, and used a washcloth hanging on the side handrail to lather my body with a soft white soap that smelled fresh and nearly stung my nose. When I got out and dried off, I brushed my teeth with the new toothbrush Drew had bought earlier, and then used a mouthwash I found sitting on the sink. My mouth stung like fire from the alcohol and made me strangely crave a good shot of whiskey, so I spit it out a little faster than I should have. When I was done, I brushed my hair back and smiled at myself. I didn’t look half bad. There were some scars on me from my fight days, my cheek was still a mess, and… well, life had left its marks. Hopefully he wouldn’t mind.
Leaving the bathroom, I scooted across the hall to Drew’s bedroom and grabbed the new pack of boxers we’d picked up. I struggled my way through bending to get a pair on. I was achy from the long day, but I wanted this. I let the waistband on the black boxers snap at my hips and nervously smoothed a hand over my stomach.
When I got out into the living room, the windows were all dark. A small lamp beside Drew on the couch cast a warm glow, but his face was in his hands and his shoulders were bowed. I made my way over and sat gently beside him, resting my cane on the arm of the couch. He let me pull his hands down. I gave his fingers a squeeze, and he scanned his gaze over my body in a way that made me feel pretty good about myself.
“Oh. Damn,” he mumbled.
“You a poet or what?” I grumped.
He chuckled under his breath and eased his hand to the nape of my neck, drawing me in. I froze for a second, old memories rearing their ugly head, but Drew’s fingers skimmed upward to ruffle the hair on the back of my head, and he cupped me closer with power, sure, but not pain.
I went, and he sucked on my bottom lip. For the first time tonight, I wasn’t certain what I should or shouldn’t do. I’d always been someone sort of hanging on for the ride when it came to sex, and it was a thrill to slide my hands along his arms and cup his solid biceps. The hardness of those muscles had my dick plumping and a delicious shiver racing through my belly. I kneaded his biceps, then slid my hands up his shoulders and down his solid chest to palm his pecs. His nipples were hard, and I wasn’t prepared for the almost painful throb that touching them through his shirt shot through my groin.
“Oh fuck,” I whispered, shocked and almost scared by the way my body was on fire. Was this what it was like to be with someone youreallywanted to touch? Drew watched me from heavily lidded eyes and smirked. He sat back and stripped his shirt up and off.
“This what you want?” he asked, voice husky. The bandage on his side was still there but wasn’t wrapped. The reminder that he might have his own pain to deal with made me hesitate. I didn’t care if I hurt, I wanted this so fucking bad.
“We can wait, if you’re not feeling—” I touched the edge of the bandage, and he leaned in and captured my mouth with his. Maybe he also wanted this enough to fight through the pain. He moved my hands back to his chest, and I ran my thumbs over his nipples, but it wasn’t long before I was tracing the mounds of his stacked arms again and wishing my boxers were gone.
He nipped at my bottom lip, and I whimpered, loving the light teases of his teeth. I opened my mouth for him, and he turned, putting one leg on the couch behind me. He wrapped his arms around my waist to move me closer to him so my hip was pressed firmly to his hard cock. The feel of him, ready and wanting me, made me melt against his chest.
He chuckled against my mouth before fucking his tongue into it. I loved how he kissed me and caressed me and held me close, but he gripped me firmly. I couldn’t move as much as I wanted and began to feel trapped. Shuddering, I moved back, and the hurt on his face made me want to do anything to erase it, so I carefully slid from the couch to my knees on the floor.
“What are you doing?” he asked, but there was no confusion because his hand went to the button on his fly and popped it with ease.
“Get it out for me. I want to see.” I could barely believe I’d whispered those words to him. This felt like pure insanity. He unzipped and pushed his pants down enough to pull out a cock that matched the rest of him, wide and sturdy. The head was flushed a needy pink and precum glistened in the lamplight, teasing me. I licked my lips, and he groaned, so I did it again, this time with a smile.
“Tell me you want to do this. You’ve been through a lot, and I want to know you’re not feeling like you have no other choice.” The steady way he studied my face made me want to crawl under the couch.
Rolling my eyes, I snorted. “Please. Have you seen yourself? I should be asking you that.”
He cupped my cheek, and an electric sizzle sliced through my core with the way he stared. “You’re so fucking beautiful. You’re not pretty like one of those boys who have a soft round face and use foundation. You’re sharp and real. You’re pretty like a wolf. I love that.”
The shit he was saying was stupid, but my body superheated, and to stop myself from arguing with him, I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue. The first swipe over his cockhead had him lifting his hips and groaning, and that was all the encouragement I needed to suck him down. I loved the way the taut flesh of his dick pushed against my tongue and filled my mouth. Drew tasted delicious and musky. The strong, sturdy flesh forced my jaw wider. I sucked until he hit the back of my throat, then bobbed up to lap at the head again. Glancing at his face had me feeling better about my cock-sucking abilities. He was still nuts for trying to turn what I looked like into some sort of wilderness poem.
Gently he pressed on the top of my head, and with an amused snort, I sucked back down his cock. After the way he’d been kissing me, I was surprised because he didn’t seem to be in a big hurry to come. It had been so long for me since I’d done anything like this that I could barely take the throbbing from my rock-hard cock. I pulled myself out of the slit in my boxers and fucked my fist while I slurped at the tip of his cockhead, searching for those bittersweet drops from his slit. His mouth had fallen open as he gripped the back of the couch with one hand. His arm strained and the veins on his muscles stood out.
My mind blanked and heat streaked through my belly. I sucked hard on him, rolling my tongue around his cockhead, wanting more while I strained into my fist and gasped for breath around him. My orgasm hit me out of nowhere. One second I was sucking, the next I’d gotten a fresh gush of precum on my tongue, and I was spraying my spunk over my fist. I shuddered and hollowed my cheeks around his shaft and was overwhelmed by how amazing everything felt. The last spasm hit me, along with disappointment that I’d fucked up and come by myself.
“Sorry,” I whispered as I pulled away. Panic set in and I couldn’t drive it off. “I’m sorry, I know you didn’t say I could.”
“What?” he asked with a chuckle, and then moaned, deep and sexy, when I showed him my cum-covered hand. “Oh, you nutted.” He laughed and scooped his shirt off the floor. With a smirk, he used the cloth to wipe my hand clean. “Come on.” The kiss he dropped on the tip of my nose stunned me stupid.
“You don’t want me to—”
