His expression dropped and he tipped his head down to glare at me. Sighing, he stepped forward, and I didn’t miss the fear that passed across his face as he stared at the short trip to the floor that probably felt a lot like a marathon to him.
“Down is a lot harder. You see him?” Peter pointed my way. “He can pick me up. Maybe I’ll just have him carry me my whole life. What do you think?” He actually smiled, and my belly flipped as a happy heat simmered in it.
“What if he’s not there? Better learn,” Bhavna said, and her smirk never slipped.
Peter shook his head, and I could see true fear flicker across his face, but he bravely stepped down to the first step, hissing out in what I thought might be pain. “You know, I knew how to do all this shit. I just fucked myself up in a car wreck. After some other stuff.” He took another step down. “I’m not learning, I’m remembering.”
“Good job, babe.”
He stopped to glare at me, but his face flushed pink. I’d started calling himbabeyesterday, mostly for fun, and okay, yes, I enjoyed it, and I couldn’t get enough of how he glared when I did. Clearly he didn’t mind it too much, because the same as every other time I’d said it, he ducked his head and smiled. My chest felt light like I’d pumped helium into it. Every day that passed I got more of those smiles from him, and it was slowly becoming my life’s mission to win them.
It had been two weeks since I’d scooped him up off the beach, and he’d been trying five or six times as hard to do everything right since then. That drunken night my heart had broken in two for him. He’d cried about his son. He’d told me some horrible shit that happened to him while he was in the AS that I wasn’t sure I was prepared to deal with. He’d sobbed and asked me how I could possibly love him—that was the worst part. I’d told myself I’d wait to see what he did afterward, when the booze was out of his system. Would he move forward or back? He’d surprised me by picking himself up and shaking off the dirt.
But he’d always been a fighter, and that’s what they did.
“Good job,” Bhavna said, and she clapped her hands, jewelry tinkling with a light music as she rushed over to give Peter a high-five. He sighed and rolled his eyes, but I didn’t miss his smile as he stood there at the bottom of those stairs to nowhere and beamed. I couldn’t help myself. I’d been warned to stay out of stuff that happened if I wanted to come back here and watch, but I got up and went over to give him a hug. Bhavna rolled her eyes at me but didn’t comment otherwise. Peter was breathing heavily and tasted like salt when I pressed a kiss to his temple, but the tang was delicious on my lips, and he was perfect in my arms.
“You’re doing a great job,” I whispered, and he glanced away before he peeked at Bhavna out of the corner of his eye.
“Am I doing okay?”
“Absolutely. Do you want your cane?” She pointed over to where it was leaning against the wall. His forehead creased and furrows formed between his brows.
“No.” He stepped forward and leaned his weight against me, and I had to laugh. “I’ll make it this way.”
“Get out of here.” She waved a hand at him and laughed. “Good session. Are you still meeting with the doctor about the lower-lumbar surgery soon? We have you in about as good of shape as we can get you without it, and I’m happy to keep seeing you until the surgery so you stay that way, and then begin to get you flexible again afterward.”
“Yes, he’s scheduled, and he’ll be going,” I said, glancing at him.
Peter sighed and looked away. We hadn’t exactly been fighting about this because Peter didn’t fight when something was really important to him. He’d been hedging that he wasn’t sure exactly how much he would be stuck paying outside of his insurance, and I couldn’t get him to understand that I didn’t give a shit—we would pay it. He had to have every chance to feel good, and I’d make sure he gave it to himself.
“Yep, bullied under the knife,” he said, bottom lip jutting.
I hugged Peter and kissed the top of his head. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Don’t,” he said harshly.
“I am.”
His throat bobbed as he stepped back. “Will you go get my cane? I don’t need it, but we can’t leave it.”
“Later you’ll want it if those muscles give you trouble,” Bhavna said. She stepped back to eye him critically. Peter squared his shoulders and scowled. “Don’t ignore it. Take ibuprofen if it starts. Heat or ice, your choice, but heat before bed is nicer.”
“I got him covered,” I said and hurried over to snag my book from my abandoned chair, along with his cane. Peter was cute as he puffed up his chest and walked with me out of the physical therapist’s office to the Jeep. We didn’t race or anything. He sometimes glanced at the ground to check out where he was putting his feet, but I was laughing along with him when he opened the passenger door and climbed up onto the seat without any help from me. There wassomethingin his dazzling honey eyes when he turned to smile up at me—and I wasn’t exactly sure what emotion burned in his gaze—but his lips were sweet and soft under mine when I bent to kiss him.
He brushed his hand down my chest with a confidence he didn’t usually have, and when he reached my belt buckle, he tapped at it. I pulled back. Something new twisted his smile warmer… true excitement. The first few months we’d been together had been frantic, but this was different. He seemed less stressed and desperate, and more just… interested inme.
For the first time, I truly got the feeling he wanted to fuck me because he was happy to be with me and in the mood, and not because sex was a need that had been ignored for a long time. I glanced down to where he rubbed at his cock as it snaked boldly down the leg of his shorts, and I moaned. Nearby peepers croaked in the trees, a froggy symphony that made this all seem more magical. I wanted to freeze us in time. Nothing bad was here waiting for us, and the only thing we had to look forward to was the warm expectation of joy with each other.
“Do you want to go on a walk along the beach when we get back?” he asked.
“Are you serious?” I murmured, pressing another kiss to his lips. He chuckled against my mouth. “I want to take you home and toss you on the dining room table. Eat you out. Fuck you slow.”
Something predatory ignited in his gaze and raised goose bumps on my arms. Good shivers ran down my spine. “You do? Well, maybe I’ll catch you on the sand. Now that I can move a little.”
I wasn’t sure what he was talking about, but I nodded stupidly because he slid his hand down to grip my cock through my jeans, which I hadn’t realized was quite as ready for him as it happened to be. The tempting squeeze he gave me almost had me asking if I could stop on a back road and bend him over the hood. My cockhead throbbed and I pushed against his palm. His tongue poked at the corner of his mouth, clearly not something he was thinking about, as he rubbed firmly against the ridge of my trapped cock.
“Yeah, fuck. Whatever you want to do, babe, but I gotta get us home first. Holy hell, anything you want.” I went after that tiny peek of his tongue and lapped at it with mine, earning myself a sloppy kiss as we fought a very pleasant fight for dominance, which I let him win. He leaned up and fucked his tongue into my mouth.
