CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

It was finally discharge day and I couldn’t have been more thrilled to be getting out of this place. I was so sick of green Jell-O, chicken broth, and nurses coming in at three in the morning waking me up to see if I needed a sleeping pill. Seriously—they woke me up to ask me if I needed a sleeping pill. “Well, I do now!” I’d scoffed at the nurse.

The doctors considered releasing me a week ago, but the physical therapist had convinced them to let me stay since my house was two stories and I couldn’t get up and down the stairs in a wheelchair. Thank goodness for my dad’s amazing insurance.

“Knock, knock. You up, Cupcake?” Grant peeked his head in the door. I sat up in the bed, careful of my healing ribs.

He walked over to my bed and bent, kissing me ever-so-gently before pulling a chair close and taking a seat. Ever since I had woken up from surgery, he couldn’t seem to stop touching me. Sometimes it was as simple as holding my hand, while other times (when the nurses weren’t looking) he would climb into bed with me and tuck me into his side, lightly stroking a hand up and down my arm until I dozed off.

While Mom and Dad would come early in the day and stay until visiting hours were over, Grant would often get here after work and he wouldn’t leave until after I would pass out. I’d be conscious enough to feel him kiss me goodnight, whispering, “Goodnight, Cupcake” before he would go.

The nickname no longer bothered me. In fact, I really liked it. We talked about it one day, and he told me, “The thing is, Jillian, you’ll always be my Cupcake.”

“Ugh! Can’t you just call me hon or babe like every other guy?”

A low chuckle came from his mouth, and when I looked at his eyes, they were smoldering. Warmth spread through me with that one look, and desire made me forget how injured I was. I wanted him. But he didn’t move, just continued to devour me with his eyes.

“No, you will always be Cupcake because it describes you perfectly: You’re the thing I crave, the thing I push myself to earn, and the thing that no matter how satisfied I am, I will always want more of you.”

Before I got the chance to tell him how beautiful his words were, he crushed his mouth to mine, kissing me hard. He wrapped his hands on either side of my face and pulled me toward him. He didn’t have to pull, I would have gone willingly. I winced, my broken clavicle reminding me I couldn’t stretch myself too far to be closer to him. He released me immediately.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

I shook my head at him. “Yes, you should always do that. I can never get enough when you do that.”

He laid the gentlest of kisses on my lips, barely brushing the surface. “Rest. Heal. And then we can kiss until your heart’s content.”

Now, four days after the new definition of his nickname for me, the doctor finally agreed I could go home. I couldn’t wait to be out of this place, but I was still nervous about what being in my own bed again might be like.

My heart fluttered a bit seeing him in the team crew jersey that clung to his body, displaying his perfect chest and arms. “Hey! How’d the race go today?”

“It was a great match. I rowed Sweep on an eight-man crew, which is my favorite kind of boat. Our Cox was amazing today, spot on with his calls from the aft. We crushed the other teams from UGA and GSU by almost a hundred feet. Poor Southern didn’t even make the qualifying. Now, our team is moving on to the semi-finals next month for the entire Southeast.”

I took a hold of his hand and squeezed. “I didn’t understand most of that, but congrats on winning! So now we both have good news today.”

He chuckled at my lack of rowing knowledge, but didn’t explain. “I heard. That’s why I’m here. Your parents asked if I wouldn’t mind driving you home. They’ve already taken off so much time from work between your grandmother’s stroke and now this, they were out of vacation days.”

“Well, what the hell are we waiting for? Let’s blow this popsicle stand! If I never see a hospital again it’ll be too soon.”

Grant pulled my hand up and kissed my palm. “All right, let me go see if I can sweet talk one of the nurses into getting us those discharge papers.”

“Just flash her those dimples. No way could she say no to you after seeing those things. She’ll be putty. Wait, on second thought don’t. I’m still incapacitated and can’t fight her off.”

He shook his head and smiled. “God, I love you.”

We both froze. Neither of us had said the words yet, and we’d barely been dating for three weeks. And I was unconscious for one of those days.

He pivoted slightly to catch my reaction, and I did my best to keep it neutral. It was really early for the words, and I couldn’t hold it against him if he didn’t mean it like that. If it was just a slip of the tongue, I would give him this out.

“Jillian, I—”

“It’s okay, Grant.”

He took three large steps and was back at my side. “No, I was about to say yes, I do love you. And I’m sorry if that scares you or if you’re not ready. My world fell apart the day I almost lost you, and I knew. I knew deep in my gut I could never let another day go by that you weren’t in it. So, you don’t have to say it back, but you do need to understand that it’s true. I love you, Jillian.”

I nodded, brushing away tears. He was right, I wasn’t ready, but I would accept his love.

“Grant, you are the most amazing person I’ve ever known. You get me in ways that most others don’t. I feel safe and protected when you’re with me. And I am falling for you too. But I just got out of a really horrible relationship, and I don’t want to tarnish those words by saying them too soon.” I scooted my body so his was flush with mine. “I hope you can understand, and that you can be patient with me. You are an amazing man, and I am the luckiest girl in the world that I get your love.”

Grant bent and captured my lips. “I’m not going anywhere, Cupcake. I’d wait for you forever. Cement, remember?”

After the discharge papers were signed, Grant pulled up the car and helped me inside. My body was still sore, but my surgery staples and been removed, and I was moving around a lot more on my own. The nurses made me walk the halls every day, and I was feeling so much better. I still had to be wary of my ribs, but even they no longer required being wrapped.

I had mixed emotions as we pulled up to the house. On one hand, it was my childhood home and full of happy memories. But every time I closed my eyes I could still feel the cold metal of the gun pressed against my face. Grant must have noticed my reaction, because he grabbed my hand, kissing it.

“He’s in jail. He can’t hurt you. Christian gave the police his name and they matched his fingerprints to items inside the house, remember? Bail was denied, so no one will hurt you now. Besides, I’m not leaving your side.”

I let out a breath. “I know, I know. It’s just still hard to keep the memories at bay. I think going to the trial will help, and being able to wake up here without being held at gunpoint will be a good reminder that it’s over.”

“Have you thought about seeing a therapist? PTSD is not something to take lightly, and talking about it can be really cathartic. I talked to one a few times after my mom died. I can get you some names.”

“I think that’s a really great idea.” I paused, leaning into him. “I talked to Mrs. Kirkpatrick today.” Grant ground his teeth but kept silent. This was his least favorite topic. “Christian completed his first full week of rehab today.”

“I still can’t believe you agreed to let that fucker go camping in the mountains for twelve weeks instead of him serving time.”

“Grant, we talked about this. This is what’s best for him. And he’s not camping. He’s at a rehab center in North Carolina. And after he’s released, he’s going to join the Army. The structure they can offer is what he needs. Not jail. He won’t learn anything there.”

He kissed my forehead. “I said I’d support you and I do. That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

I looked back at my house. “Let’s go in. I have to face it, and right now all I want to do is cuddle in bed with you. Not talk about Christian or bad memories.”

Grant opened the door and came around to my side, scooping me up in his arms. “That I can do.”

He carried me straight into my room, which had been cleaned, and set me gently down in the bed. The sheets had been changed and a new lock had been put on my door.

“My mother?” I asked, indicating the changes around me.

“Yes. She thought it might make you feel a little more comfortable about returning.”

My eyes slid shut as I sunk into the bed. It was familiar and soft—comforting. But as soon as I allowed myself to fully relax, the memories washed over me, and I tensed, my breath hitching.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Grant reassured me, placing a protective arm around me, and I leaned into him. “Open your eyes. No one is here but me.”

I slowly opened them and tried to blink back tears. I watched, silent, as he kissed my shoulder. And then kissed it again.

“No one is going to hurt you.” He ran his hand down my leg, inducing shivers. He traced indiscriminate patterns along my thigh and behind my knee until all of the tension left my body. “This is a place for love, not fear.”

He moved to stroke my arm, his fingers running up and down, over and over. Each pass was like striking flint, and I sighed. “How do you feel now?”

“Better. Much better.”

Grant sat up in the bed, cupping his hands to frame my face between them. “I think it would help if you had some new memories in this room. What do you think?”

I hummed in pleasure. “Well, I like the sound of that.”

Grant moved to the foot of the bed, wrapped his hands around my non-broken leg, and pulled, sliding me down the bed until I lay completely flat. “I think, before we can make new memories, we need to get rid of any pain.” He kissed a bruise on my ankle. “I think I can kiss all that pain and make it go away.” He switched to the other leg, peppering kisses on my knee right above my cast. “Every.” Kiss. “Single.” Kiss. “Inch.”

My body went from warm to on fire at his touch, and my pulse quickened. “That might be the best idea you ever had.”

He continued, kissing every bruise, every scrape, and every injury I’d suffered, starting at my feet and slowly working his way up my body. With each touch of his lips to my skin, my body flooded with emotion until I was drowning in pleasure. He made low, throaty noises with each touch that only fueled my desire.

He carefully lifted my loose cotton sundress over my body, tossing it aside before he continued laying more tiny kisses over my hips and stomach. My muscles clenched at his touch and a small moan escaped my lips. His mouth was hot against my skin, moving up to my ribs. He was even more gentle as his brushed his lips against them, since it would take longer for them to heal. But I didn’t want him to be gentle. Each touch, each brush of his lips, kindled my hunger for him until it consumed me. I no longer felt any pain, just pleasure. And I wanted more.

Grant skimmed by my breasts, and I whimpered. I wanted his attentions there, but instead he continued kissing my collarbone and up the curve of my neck. By the time he reached my lips, I was ravenous for him. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer to me, but he resisted. He stroked my lips with the pad of his thumb. They were rough, slightly calloused from years of rowing. The texture clashed against the softness of my full lips. I parted them and my tongue slipped out, sucking his thumb into my mouth greedily.

His pupils dilated at my action but he didn’t pull it out. I traced my tongue from base to tip before adding more suction, simulating how I would love to pleasure him. His breathing caught and he pulled his thumb from my mouth, only to bend his head toward my face and cover his lips with my own.

He smelled faintly of sweat, that heady, sexy aroma that was all man. I inhaled deeply, wanting each of my senses to be consumed by this amazing man. He kept his weight completely off me, causing the muscles of his sculpted arms to flex under the thin jersey he wore. I ran my hand up them, fingering the contours and ridges, continuing over his back, scratching my nails down as we continued to kiss. He sucked my bottom lip into his mouth, biting down gently. I gasped, groaning as his hands lowered to skim the sides of my chest.

“Are you feeling any pain?” Grant whispered.

“Nuh-uh. Nothing but pleasure,” I moaned. “So, so much pleasure.”

Grant’s lips left mine, moving along my cheek to nibble at my ear. “And are you getting new, happier memories of being in this bed?”

“Oh yes…” I paused. “But I think in order to really cement them in, I might need you to take it a step further. You know, really solidify it in my mind as the most vivid memory I have from this bed.”

“Hmm, is that so? More vivid? Well, I think I can make that happen.” He moved back over to my lips and hovered above them once more. His tongue slid along the edge, causing my lips to tingle at the contact, vibrating with pleasure. Hovering over me, his hair tickled my forehead deliciously, just another sensation that added to the mounting volcano that was ready to erupt.

He bent, and turned on his side, but still continuing to support my head as he lay down in the bed next to me. His arms wrapped around me, his body pressed against mine as my back arched with licentious intent. I could feel his heart hammering in his chest, pounding against me.

His arms snaked around my back and unclasped my bra, moving it out of the way. He placed the plump flesh into his hand, filling his palm as his thumb stroked over the hardened nipple that jutted out toward him. He took it into his mouth, sucking and biting the way I had with his thumb. It was delightfully torturous revenge, and I never wanted it to end.

My hands sought the hem of his shirt, wanting his flesh against my own. I tugged slightly, and he let go of my breast long enough to lean back and pull the shirt over his head. My eyes drank in the sight of his perfect, smooth skin the color of melted caramel mixed with warmed milk. It was beautiful, like the rest of him.

He looped his fingers around the edge of my panties, tugging at them. “Lift,” he ordered, his voice deep and commanding. I obeyed without a second thought, and he slid them down my body, careful to not snag them on my injured leg.

He placed a hand on either side of my knees and pushed slightly. “Spread your legs for me.”

An erotic flush ran through me, right down to my toes. My breath came hard, knowing and anticipating what was about to happen. I let my knees fall to the side. Grant lowered himself to me, sliding his fingers over my wetness, spreading it.

“So beautiful,” he murmured, his touch never relenting. His fingers continued to move over me, up and down until I squirmed uncontrollably.

“Stay still, Cupcake. Moving too much will hurt your ribs.”

I groaned, but managed to keep still. He continued to toy with me, fingers tracing over every part of the epicenter of my need. My breath had quickened and I was almost panting now. My muscles coiled tightly from his touch, almost painfully.

He leaned forward, his warm breath against my skin.

“Please,” I whispered. “Grant, I need you.”

He granted my plea, dipping his head as his tongue darted out, licking me. I cried out, thankful for the touch but anxious for more. The flat of his tongue moved over and around in teasing little flicks. I arched my hips, but he laid a hand over them, pushing them back into the bed.

“Still.”

I whimpered, the need to move almost overwhelming. His tongue continued its sweet torment, but then a finger slid inside of me. I cried out, but managed to stay still. My legs shook, so close to the edge. The finger slid out, and he added a second as he pumped them in and out. Every nerve in my body was on edge, anxious for the next touch that would come.

His mouth covered my clit, sucking it into his mouth. I forgot to breathe. His fingers quickened their pace, plunging in and out, making my insides clench until my body exploded with sensation. I convulsed around him, unable to control myself. My chest heaved as I sucked in a deep breath, letting it out in a scream that echoed off the walls.

When the last shudder escaped my body, Grant removed his hand, laying a single kiss on top of that tiny bundle of nerves. I lay exhausted, trying to catch and slow my breath. My body ached deliciously from the uncontrollable movements of my orgasm, but I wouldn’t take it back. It was worth the pain. He repositioned his body so I could lay against his chest. He kissed the top of my head and I sighed.

“Best. Memory. Ever.”

Grant chuckled. “I’m glad, Cupcake.” He pulled the blanket up, covering me. “Rest now. I’m not going anywhere.”

I did exactly that, my body so delightfully wrung out that I drifted off, listening to the sound of Grant’s heartbeat in my ear.

Date: 2015-12-11; view: 805