My hand once again traces patterns on her back, and Dee lies on top of me. Soon, one of her hands explores my body, going further down until she grasps my cock. My head arches back into the pillows, and I hiss as she strokes me.
Dee kisses my chest, then moves to straddle me. Leisurely, she lowers herself onto my cock. The first roll of her hips has me digging my nails into the soft skin of her buttocks. Rising, I press myself into her further as she rides me. Her nails dig into my chest, and I move her faster. Dee’s eyes never leave mine, both of us working our way to another release. While one hand holds onto her hip, the other uses my thumb to press on her clit. Dee increases her speed and moans louder, digging her nails further into me.
The pain combined with being buried this far inside her is too much. My balls tingle as I come, then Dee cries out as her pussy spasms around my cock, milking me, drawing out another long orgasm for us both. When it’s finally over, Dee collapses on top of me.
My hands are limp on the bed, and as the sun creeps through the windows, I fall back asleep with my cock, firmly planted within this magnificent woman.
When I wake, the bed is empty. I rise on my elbows, but she’s not in the room. Throwing back the sheet, I walk through her bedroom to her bathroom, but she’s not there. I check the other bathroom that adjoins her and Dawson’s room, but she’s not in there, either.
Turning on the shower, I wash myself down. The nail marks on my chest are a happy reminder of what we did earlier. When I’m done, I walk through Dawson’s room and into the bathroom next to my room and quickly dress.
I find Dee in the kitchen, standing in front of the coffee maker, her expression a million miles away from where we are right now.
“Good morning.” The words come out as a loud whisper, and she jumps at the sound.
Turning, Dee dashes over and places her arms around me. “Good morning.”
“You should’ve woken me up.”
Dee leans back and looks up at me. “You were peaceful in sleep, so I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“Dee, you can disturb me anytime. We have a lot to catch up on.”
“Do you mean that?”
I nod. “I’ve never meant anything else more.”
Looking around the kitchen, I ask, “Where are Tyson and my mom?”
“They’re both at the hospital. Your poor mom has been there all night.”
“She won’t mind,” I assure her.
“Oh, don’t I know it. She told me on the phone not to worry about it, that she was perfectly fine, but I’ve spent enough nights in those chairs to know it’s a lie. Her spirit might be willing, but the flesh will be in agony trying to get comfortable.”
“We should probably go, then?”
Dee nods but doesn’t move. “Yes, we should but not until you eat something.”
Guiding me toward the kitchen island, she has a selection of fruit, toast, and muffins on it for me to choose from. Dee kisses my cheek, releases me, and pours two coffees. We sit side by side on the stools as we eat. There’s so much I want to say to her, but this morning feels magical, and I don’t want to break the spell. Almost as if she can hear my thoughts, Dee clears her throat, and we stare at each other.
“What are we doing?” she asks.
“Getting to know each other again.”
Dee smiles. “There’s no easy way to say this, but here goes. I can’t have you half in my life. Dawson adores you, but he doesn’t really know you. He won’t understand if you aren’t going to be here full-time.”
“Do you have to be here?”
“As in this apartment or New York?”
“Both.”
“My agency is here. My mom moved back here to be close to us. I’m not sure I want to give any of that up.”
“Your dad still lives here?” Dee nods. “We can’t live here in Tyson Reed’s apartment.”
“Do you know how expensive it is to buy in New York?”
“That bad, huh?”
“Yes.”
“How much does a place like this cost?”
“Tyson paid twenty-five million for it, and he got it at a ridiculous price. It’s worth more like forty million now, but at the time, the owners were desperate. They invested badly in a few deals and needed to recoup money quickly, so Tyson cashed in and got it for a steal.”
“Forty million?” I repeat, with my mouth hanging open.
“Yep,” Diandra replies, smacking her lips together.
“There must be cheaper places to buy or rent.” Dee nods. “Well, we don’t need to move immediately. We can look.”
“You’re willing to move here?”
“Yeah, and I bet Mom would come too.”
Dee leans into me and puts an arm around my waist. “Thank you.”
“We don’t need to decide this right now, though, do we?”
Dee puts her chin against my arm. “No, we don’t. It’s enough to know you’d move here for us.”
Looking into her eyes, I say, “In a heartbeat. Nothing is ever going to separate us again. No more running. From now on, we’ll face every adversity together, head-on, as a team.”
Dee smiles at me, her blue eyes shining with happy tears.
Those words would come back to haunt me in the months that follow.
GRAYSON
The steady beeping of a machine brings me out of my slumber. Opening my eyes, I see my mother hovering above me, a look of concern on her face.
“Nurse!” she yells, “He’s awake.”
I reach up, and something covers my face. I pull on it, and my mother holds my hands.
“Grayson, wait for the nurse.”
“Sleeping beauty is awake?” asks a voice as she, too, stands over me.
My mother looks anxious as she holds my hands, staring at the woman.
“Grayson, do you know where you are?” The nurse shines a light in my eyes, and I flinch.
“H-hospital,” I croak out.
“Yes. Can you tell me your date of birth?”
“F-February eighth.”
Pulling one of my hands out of my mother’s takes much effort. I touch my throat and then pull at the mask on my face, but my hand and arm feel strange.
“Can he do that?” asks mom nervously.
The nurse nods. “My name is Rachel. You gave us quite a scare.” She hits a button, and the bed moves into a better sitting position. “Your throat might be sore. We intubated you. How does it feel?”
“Dry.”
She smiles at me and picks up a cup with a straw in it, pulls the mask further down, and holds the straw to my lips.
The cold liquid is like heaven in my throat.
“How long?”
“Let me get a doctor to answer your questions.” Rachel smiles down at me and leaves the room.
Turning to my mother, I repeat my question, “How long?”
“You’ve been in and out for nearly eight weeks.”
“What happened?”
“You developed breathing issues during the surgery. For a while, it was touch and go.”
“Dawson?” I whisper.
Mom’s face lights up. “He did fine. He’s put on so much weight while you’ve been sleeping. Diandra has had a full-time job trying to keep him still. Dawson doesn’t like taking the anti-rejection medicine, but he does take it. They’ve been in every day to see you.” Mom is still holding my hand. “How do you feel?”
I search my body, mentally feeling for injury and find none. Reaching under the bed covers, I touch my stomach, and apart from a little tenderness, it feels fine.
“I’m okay, Mom.”
Relief washes over her face. “Thank the Lord.” She bends and kisses my forehead. “I need to phone Diandra.”
Dr. Otto walks in, a huge smile on his face. “Well, well, well, you finally wake up!” He, too, shines a light into my eyes. “How do you feel?”
“Fine.” Scrubbing a hand over my face, it feels strange to feel stubble. Normally, I’m clean-sha
ven. I shake my head a few times to clear it. “A little groggy.”
“You gave us quite a scare.”
I chuckle at him and wonder if that phrase is something they teach all medical staff. “So I’ve been told.”
Dr. Otto nods. “You’re attached to a catheter, so we’ll need to remove it and then get you on your feet.” He moves the bed sheets back and moves the hospital gown out of the way. “Your incisions are healing nicely.”
“Incisions?”
“Once you started to have a hard time breathing, it was imperative to get the kidney out as quickly as possible. As a consequence, you have a number of small incisions and a larger one about twelve inches long under your ribs. But it’s healing nicely.”
Looking down, the wound has already knitted itself back together, and I only have a red line. The other cuts are barely noticeable.
“It looks fine, Doc.”
He nods, smiling to himself. “Of course, it helped that you’re in top physical condition.”
I hadn’t noticed Mom leave the room, but she walks in and smiles at Dr. Otto.
“Is he okay?”
“He’s fine.”
“When can he come home?”
“In a day or two.” Dr. Otto looks down at me. “You might have a little trouble walking at first. Eight weeks is a long time not to use your legs.”
Dee bursts through the door, and both Dr. Otto and my mother move out of the way. She launches herself at me, tears streaming down her face. “Don’t you ever do that to me again!”
Awkwardly, I move both my arms, and they feel like jello as I try to get them to wrap around her. It’s the strangest feeling as though they know what they need to do but can’t.
“I’m okay, Dee,” I whisper.
Her tear-stained face searches mine. “I was so worried.” She glances at mom. “We all were.”
“Dawson?”
Dee smiles. “He’s outside with Tyson. I was worried it was going to be like before when you went back to sleep.”
“I’ve been awake before?”
Dee nods, and Dr. Otto clears his throat, gaining all of our attentions.
“It’s common in coma patients. You were in and out. This time is different, you’re wide awake and don’t look sleepy.”
The fog that was clouding my mind when I first woke has cleared, and I feel well-rested, not tired at all.
“Can Dawson come in to see him?”
“Of course. We need to get Grayson up and moving, but I’ll give you all a few minutes alone.”
Dr. Otto walks out of the room, and I look anxiously at the door, waiting for Dawson to walk through. But it’s not my son who stumbles through the open doorway, but my best friend, Colton Anders.
He moves to the opposite side of the bed, looking as upset and distressed as Diandra first did.
“You scared me, Gray,” Colt chokes out, and my mom puts an arm around him.
“Sorry, man, just taking a break.”
Colt barks out a laugh and shakes his head. “Don’t do it again.”
He puts his hand in mine. I try to squeeze it, but again my muscles don’t seem to know what to do. Colt doesn’t seem to notice as he manhandles me and then releases me just as quickly.
“Dad?” says a small voice.
Turning my head back to the doorway, I see Dawson in Tyson’s arms. I smile widely at him.
“Hey, little man, how are you feeling?”
He reaches down and pulls up his T-shirt, exposing a thin red scar that extends around his belly.
Dawson is looking down, nodding as he babbles, “I’ve got a scar like you. Tyson said we have battle wounds to show how brave we are.” He looks up at Tyson, who nods.
“Good to see you awake, Grayson,” says Tyson as he puts my son on the edge of the bed.
Dawson moves closer to me, forcing his mother to move further away. He puts his little hand in mine.
Staring at my son’s smiling face, I say, “It’s good to be awake.”
GRAYSON
A week later, and I’m out of the hospital. While I was sleeping, Dee and Dawson moved out of Tyson’s apartment, much to his displeasure, and moved into a two-bedroom, one bathroom rental above a grocery store in Kips Bay.
Compared to their last home, this is small. The elevator doesn’t always operate, and even though my legs and arms are now working, those stairs can be murder. I’m exhausted by the time I get to the top.
“Dad!” yells Dawson, the sound echoing off the walls of our new home. “Where are you?”
The apartment consists of four rooms—our bedrooms, the bathroom, and an open space that serves as the kitchen, dining and living room. It’s not like I can hide from him.
“I’m in here,” I yell back.
I am in Dee’s and my bedroom. Dawson bounds in, his excitement and curiosity expand with each new day.
“Did Mom go to work?”
“She did.”
He crawls up onto the bed and positions himself under my arm, snuggling in.
“What are we going to do today?” he asks as he flattens his palm onto mine.
“Anything we want.”
“Is Uncle Colt coming?”
“No, buddy, Uncle Colt went home with Aunty Skye.”
Dawson nods. “Yeah, I forgot.”
I ruffle his hair, and he giggles. “Can we go home to Uncle Tyson?”
Moving into such a small apartment, it hasn’t been an easy adjustment for him or Dee. Both of their bedrooms in the old place were twice the size than they are here, and there aren’t a lot of rooms to explore. With Dee going back to work, I find myself taking Dawson to the park every day so he can run wild.
“Don’t you like it here, buddy?”
He looks up at me. “It’s okay.”
“Maybe we should find somewhere else to live?”
Dawson nods. “Not above a stinky grocery store.”
The stinky part is the industrial bins in the alley next to us. Dawson doesn’t enjoy walking past them and often holds his breath.
I chuckle. “Yeah, nowhere near a stinky grocery store.”
Dawson nods.
“You wanna help me pick somewhere?”
He twists and turns around, sitting opposite me. “Yeah.”
“Let’s go eat first.”
Dawson rolls to the side of the bed and slides onto the floor. Throwing back the covers, I stand, and he goes running into the kitchen. I join him as he opens the refrigerator.
“What looks good?”
“Fruit!”
Peering in, I can see that Dee has already cut up some watermelon and banana for him in two separate bowls. Little man likes to eat them one at a time and doesn’t like his food to touch each other.
“Sit at the table.”
He runs and sits on the couch.
“No, buddy, the table.”
“But I wanna eat here and watch TV,” he pouts.
“Nope. Real men eat at the table, and we don’t have the TV on. Come on, get your butt up here.”
Dawson giggles. “You said butt.”
Holding a finger to my lips, I smile. “Don’t tell Mommy.”
He giggles and sits at the table. “Can I have ice cream?”
I sit and look at the fruit that Dee has also cut for me. “No more ice cream for you or me.”
Dawson puts a piece of banana in his mouth. “Not fair.”
“No, it’s not. But at least we get to go through it together.”
“Can Mommy have ice cream?”
“She can.” Dawson frowns. “Eat your breakfast.”
Both of us need to adapt to a new diet. It’s not that we can’t have ice cream, but it’s best to avoid it for the time being. A low-salt, high-fiber diet is what the doctor recommends, and we’re trying to stick to it as best we can.
I’ve never been to Dee’s work before. It’s in an office building downtown. The rent alone must cost her a fortune. The elevator opens, and I push Dawson’s strolle
r out. There’s a big desk in the foyer with a woman who smiles at me while she talks on the telephone. Pushing the stroller, I smile at her and wait for her to end the call.
“Hello, how can I help you?”
“Grayson Moore to see Diandra Evergrow.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
“Ahh… no. I’m her…” Looking down at Dawson, I shrug and change tactics.“I mean, he’s her son, Dawson.”
She stands and looks down at him. “Oh, so he is! Hello, Dawson, your mommy talks about you all the time. Shall I see if she’s free?”
Dawson nods, and she looks back at me.
“Thank you.”
She smiles and pushes a button. “Your son and his… nanny are here.”
She looks up at me. “Ms. Evergrow will be right with you.”
Within moments, Diandra joins us.
“Hey.” Dee kisses my cheek and then reaches down to touch the top of Dawson’s head. “This is a delightful surprise.” She looks at the receptionist. “Thank you, Marion.”
Dee takes charge of the stroller, and I follow her into her office.
“Wow, this is nice.” I whistle loudly as I look around her office.
Dee smiles and unbuckles Dawson. He runs straight to her window and looks out.
“It is. We’re doing very well.”
“You must have a lot of clients?”
“We do.”
Dee wraps her arms around my neck and smiles up at me. My arms instantly go around her waist.
“Marion called me your nanny.”
Dee laughs. “Should I have told her you’re my boyfriend?”
The idea of me being something so not permanent as a boyfriend feels wrong, and I shake my head.
“My baby daddy?”
“I hate that.”
“You don’t want to be Dawson’s father?”
“I am Dawson’s father.” I pull her in for a kiss. “But I want to be more than a boyfriend to you.”
“What do you want me to be?”
I cup her face in my hands. “I made a promise to you once.”
Dee smiles and moves out of my embrace. She opens the top drawer of her desk and pulls out a necklace. On the end of it is a gold band. Dee takes it off the necklace and leaves that in the drawer. She holds it out to me on her palm.
Tackling Life: A Sports Romance (Tackling Romance Series Book 2) Page 12