Woke

by Peggy Jaeger

  I nodded. “Old school surgery, not laparoscopic removal,” I said as he dipped his head and dragged his tongue across it.

  “Appendectomy?” he asked when he came to the next one and kissed it.

  It was impossible to keep a moan from breaking out. I could feel him smile against me, the slight scratch of his afternoon stubble rubbing across my sensitive skin and making me…pant.

  “Cade.”

  The sound of the zipper on my slacks dragging down echoed around us.

  “Lift your hips,” he commanded.

  My pants were summarily pulled down, then off. A soft thud indicated they’d landed on the carpet somewhere south of the bed.

  Swathed in the small triangle of lace I’d donned after my run-shower, I was more exposed to anyone right now, aside from my doctors, than I’d been in a lifetime.

  “What are these from?” he asked as he touched several skin irregularities on both my thighs.

  “Skin grafts. I was…allergic to the surgical tape used to keep my urinary catheter from tugging. Whenever they removed and changed a catheter, they pulled the tape and layers of inflamed skin would come with it. I had the grafts before I woke up after the problem was diagnosed.”

  Silently, he dipped his head and once again I almost came off the bed when his lips skimmed from one scar to the other, trailing tiny kisses along the red, rectangular grafting scars.

  His breath, tender and warm as it drifted across my exposed skin, sent shivers of longing up and down my spine.

  He kissed each area again as he moved upward, stopping only after he’d reached my neck.

  I tried to gage what he thought of my scars as he gazed down at me, but his face was inscrutable.

  Well, except for the naked desire in his eyes, that is.

  “Sit up,” he ordered.

  In another time with any other man I probably would have had a snippy reply to his bossy tone.

  Not to Cade, though, because that bossiness? It was a real turn on.

  He helped me upright, then slid my blouse down my shoulders. After tugging if off I was left only in my bra and thong. “Roll over,” he said, pointing back down at the mattress.

  “What—”

  “On your stomach, Aurora. I want to see your back.”

  The thought that he was—hopefully—going to run his tongue all over the back of me as he had my front made me plop down fast, like I was doing a belly flop in a pool.

  The speed of my movements pulled a low chuckle from him.

  “I like a girl who can take direction.”

  The drag of his zipper and then the plop of fabric meeting floor told me he’d shed his trousers. It took every ounce of will I possessed not to lift my head and turn so I could see him.

  A moment later, he straddled me.

  He wasn’t naked – not yet anyway. The soft whisper of silk against the notch in my lower back told me he liked comfort in his underwear. From the sensation of his powerful thighs pressing against my hips I could tell he wore boxers.

  Silk boxers.

  Who knew that would be another amazing turn-on?

  His fingers massaged my scalp from the nape upward until he found the small area that boasted no hair.

  “I would never have known this was here if you hadn’t told me,” he said as his fingers navigated around the smooth spot.

  I turned my head so my face wasn’t buried in the pillow and my voice wouldn’t be muffled. “Like I said, the wonders of a good hairdresser.”

  Those long, strong fingers worked their way down to my shoulder blades. He cupped the tip of each shoulder, pressed and kneaded a few times, just enough to make my back arch again from the pleasant pressure.

  “This is one of the sores you told me about?” His fingers danced over the puckered skin on my right shoulder. “The one that was repaired by another graft?”

  His touch was so gentle, so…intoxicating, the only way I could answer him without moaning was to nod.

  When his mouth covered the area, his breaths coursing over my bare skin I shivered.

  “Are you cold?” he asked, going back to massaging my shoulders.

  “Not even a little bit,” I mumbled into the pillow.

  He’d heard me, though, because that deep, panty-wetting snigger sounded close to my ear.

  His hands continued their trail down my back. In a skillful move he unclasped my bra and pushed the straps down to the middle of my upper arms. A small shift and he moved his body off mine as his hands drifted over the grafts on both hips and my lower back.

  After kissing and licking – good God, licking—both hip areas, his mouth skimmed down to my tailbone.

  “This one doesn’t look like the others.”

  I felt his index finger glide over the deep divot.

  “It had more than one surgery,” I said. “Three, all told.”

  Warmth shuffled across the area as he kissed one corner then made his way across the entire area.

  “Why so many?”

  I gasped when his tongue flicked down from the wound to the crease in my ass.

  “B-bad spot…for…healing.”

  “Hmmm.”

  The next thing I knew he’d slipped his fingers into the straps of my thong and pulled it down, leaving me bare-assed naked as the day I was brought into the world.

  “You have a fabulous ass.” First, he plumped each fleshy mouth with his hands. Then, a gentle kiss to each, as he tugged the thong down my legs at the same time.

  “When you walked away from me at the Till I watched you go, all the while thinking how much I wanted to hold it. Hold you. Turn over.”

  It took a few seconds for the command to bleed into my brain. I’d gotten lost in not thinking at all, just focusing on how amazing his hands and lips felt against my skin.

  “Aurora, turn over.”

  When I did, one of my bra straps slid all the way to my wrist. Cade slipped it off leaving me totally naked for him now.

  I finally got the chance to see him without his clothes. Well, he still had those fabulous boxers on, but they didn’t leave much to the imagination. And let’s be honest: nothing in my imagination could ever have drawn up a man who looked so perfect in every way.

  He stood next to the bed while he held my gaze, slid his boxers off and stepped out of them. Nothing covered either of us now.

  “You know what I look at when I see your scars, Aurora?”

  I shook my head while he slipped back in beside me.

  “I see you.” He pulled me close so we were facing each other on our sides. “I see the intelligent, caring, witty, and perfectly beautiful woman you are.” He lifted my chin and found my lips with his own. “On the inside,” he said against my mouth. “And the outside.”

  Sincerity flowed from him straight to my heart. If I let myself, I could believe him.

  And I wanted to believe him.

  I cupped his face with my hands and kissed him on the tip of his nose, then made my way back down to his mouth.

  Kissing this man was an experience like no other I’d ever known. How such gentle, innocent little busses could cause my insides to heat like a furnace being stoked was a mystery. I sighed as his hand made its way to my breast; moaned as his lips closed over it and suckled at my hardened nipple as I had to him.

  We were so close together there was no mistaking how heavily aroused he was. His erection throbbed against my thighs, proud and insistent. In a move I think Flirty Rory instigated, I lifted my top leg and threw it over his hip, bringing our lower bodies together.

  Then, I brought my hand down to close over the long, solid, pulsing part of him I desperately wanted inside me.

  I was all set to tell him this – hell, I was all set to beg if I needed to – when he reached down and covered my hand with his. He tugged it back up then placed a kiss across my knuckles.

  Confusion doused me. Had my decade plus of enforced celibacy made me forget what I was supposed to do in an intimate situation?

  As
my thoughts jumbled about, Cade leaned back and grabbed something from his bedside drawer. When I spotted what it was, I gave myself a mental eye roll.

  Once upon a time, younger Rory carried condoms in her purse, just in case. Thank the heavens above Cade had them stored and ready to go because I hadn’t even given a consideration to protecting myself.

  After the condom was in place—I’d never before realized what an erotic and exciting thing that was to watch a man do—Cade shifted, one of his knees spearing mine, opening me up to him.

  “I’m gonna bet,” he palmed my mound, his fingers tangling in my coarse curls, “if I drag a finger back and forth across you, you’re going to be dripping wet.”

  “I’m no fool. I’m not taking any part of that bet,” I said, then slammed my eyes closed and arched my back when he set out to prove himself right.

  No more words were necessary. And even if they had been, I would have been unable to do much more than gasp, groan, and cry out once Cade moved on top of me.

  While he made a nesting place for himself between my legs, I lifted them and crossed them over the back of his hips, effectively giving him full access to slip inside me.

  Which he did.

  Oh, boy, did he.

  From the moment he slid on home my body went into pure instinct mode.

  With my hands grabbing his hard-as-stone ass while he moved in and out of me, I nuzzled the sweet spot between his head and his collarbone, delighting in his pure musky scent. For good measure, I kissed his neck.

  Braced on his elbows, Cade looked down at me, a half smile dangling on his face.

  “You feel like…heaven,” he said. His voice was jagged, his breathing as quick as mine.

  Soon, words were impossible for both of us.

  I’d worried my body wouldn’t remember what to do once the opportunity arose for me to have sex again.

  Silly me.

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m sorry, I was trying not to wake you.” I stood at the end of his bed, in my bra and thong, the rest of my clothes in my hands. The afternoon sunlight had faded and given way to illuminating Cade’s bedroom with long shadows from the evening sky.

  “You’re leaving?” He sat up, the sheet dropping to his waist. His hair was a riot and his eyes were half open, drowsy with sleep.

  “I need to get home. My mother doesn’t know where I am and it’s already late. I don’t want her to worry.”

  “Call her.” He yawned and reached out a hand to me. When I took it, he tugged me back down on the bed. “Then stay.”

  “I’m tempted, Cade, but I can’t. Please understand.”

  I cupped his cheek and then sighed when he burrowed into my palm. It was such a sweet, heartstrings-tugging gesture. His evening scruff was prickly against my hand when he shifted to kiss my palm.

  The past few hours had been like a rebirth of the girl I used to be, and I know that sounds corny, but it had been a long, long time since I’d experienced being satisfied by a man.

  Can your virginity regrow? Because if it could mine surely had somewhere in the past fifteen years. In Cade’s arms it was as if I’d never had sex before, that everything was brand new, each touch and caress a new experience.

  Cade took his time the second – and third – times he made love to me. The first he’d explored my scars, letting me know he wasn’t repulsed or turned off because of them. He paid them so much attention to force me to believe they didn’t matter to him.

  Once I did, he’d taken his time learning every little thing that gave me pleasure, that elicited a response he wanted. I returned the favor discovering he was ticklish, which was delectable, and that he liked having me on top because he could go deeper and that it put me in control.

  Can I just tell you what an aphrodisiac that was to hear?

  We’d finally fallen into an exhausted, contented sleep somewhere after six o’clock.

  But now it was time for me to get home.

  “Let me make you something to eat before you leave, then,” he said, yawning.

  I leaned down and kissed him, smiling.

  “That’s just a ruse to get me to stay longer, and you know it.”

  “How’s it working?” That sexy half grin almost made me reconsider.

  “Rain check?”

  He nodded. “Let me call Kip to take you home. And before you say no, he’s closer than your driver. He lives here in the building and can be ready in five minutes.”

  I couldn’t argue with that kind of logic.

  After I’d gotten dressed in the bathroom, I found Cade in the living room. He’d dragged on a pair of sweat pants and was scrolling through his phone. His hair was calmer, making me think he’d finger combed it back into place. Shirtless and unshod, he looked tempting enough that I reconsidered leaving.

  “Kip’s waiting for you downstairs.”

  I nodded and slung my purse over my shoulder, found my phone where he’d tossed it on the couch earlier. A flash of awkwardness bolted through me. What was the etiquette after having mind-blowing, invigorating, soul awakening sex with a man these days? Say ‘thanks for the ride, let’s do it again?’ or ‘see ya around?’

  Flirty Rory had gone back to sleep and was no help at all.

  While I was pondering what to say, Cade took the decision out of my hands. He stalked toward me, then slid his hands around my waist and pulled me flat up against him. His body was still warm from being under the blankets and I nestled into all that delicious heat.

  “I know you need to get home but I just want you to know how much I really want you to stay,” he said.

  I nodded against his chest, the coarse hairs tickling my cheeks.

  A cavernous sigh blasted from him. He pulled back and cupped my chin in his hands.

  “Please say we can do this again.”

  “What? Go bowling?”

  Seems Flirty Rory was awake, after all.

  I swear to all that’s sacred Cade’s half grin/half smirk was going to be the death of me. And I mean that in a completely erotic way.

  He planted a kiss on the tip of my nose. “Among other things.”

  I smiled up at him and nodded. “I’d like that.”

  He smoothed my hair back from my face, lifted my chin and kissed me so tenderly I had a hard time focusing on the fact I was leaving.

  “I’ve got a full day of work tomorrow, but I’ll call or text you, okay?” he asked.

  I had my own busy day ahead of me, but told him it was.

  With that he walked me to the door, kissed me one more time, then leaned against the jam while I waited for the elevator. Once it arrived I gave him a little flirty finger wave over my shoulder.

  I wasn’t in the car more than a minute when my phone pinged with a text.

  ~ Miss you. Can I convince you to come back? Tempt you in some way with food or…other pleasures?

  Kip’s eye’s flicked at the rearview when I laughed out loud.

  “Everything okay, Miss?”

  I told him it was, then replied to the text.

  ~Well, I am a little…hungry. But I’ll grab something when I get home. Thanks, anyway.

  ~You’re killing me, you know that, right?

  With a smile on my face I sent three kissy-faced emojis back.

  Good Lord, I was acting like a silly, giggly, love-sick teenager.

  And it felt so damn good.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I didn’t get a moment to myself once I walked through the front door.

  My mother and Maeve both descended and wanted to know a. how had my appointments gone?, b. had I eaten?, c. was I now hungry?, and d. did I want to rest before dinner?

  Talk about mother hens. I had two clucking after me. One look at the tension around my mother’s mouth and the concern etched in Maeve’s eyes and any annoyance I felt at all this smother-love went out the window.

  I knew in my heart that every time I went out of the house they were concerned so
mething bad would happen to me. What’s that old saying? The past predicts the future?

  I let them both coddle me for a few minutes, vowed I was starving and then ate everything put before me, down to the horrible tasting health smoothie my mother had discovered on yet another new health and fitness website.

  It wasn’t until I was snuggled down in bed later that night that I had a moment to myself to pull the files out of the bag and start reading them.

  I started with Phil’s.

  She spoke of coming to my house early in the afternoon to get ready for the party. Had I looked upset or anxious she was asked. No, to both. Had I seemed distracted or under the influence of any drugs? Phil’s response had been a paragraph long speech about how I never used drugs, thought they were stupid, and that the only illegal thing I’d ever done was to drink champagne while still underage. And despite the horrible stories the press always printed about my “partying ways,” I was as stand up and good girl as you could get.

  A few paragraphs described the night, how we’d arrived together and she’d met up with her boyfriend, Trey—his full name was added in parentheses—and that she’d been with him up until the time she heard screaming and saw me seizing.

  Apparently Killian Beggs had been the one to give me first aid by holding my head and shoving something in my mouth to prevent me from clamping down on my tongue until EMS arrived. Phil had stated she been “paralyzed with fear” when she saw me writhing about on the club floor and if it hadn’t been for Killian’s quick thinking, I might have physically hurt myself.

  According to the dates on the statements, Ramon had interviewed Phil several times over the first month of the investigation.

  A week after I’d collapsed at the club, he’d gone to her house and probed further into our lives and friendship, noting in the file that she seemed distracted for most of it. Trey had been with her and insisted on staying during Ramon’s questioning. He allowed it as he repeated her previous testimony back several times and she agreed with everything she’d already stated, adding nothing new or that she’d remembered nothing else. He’d ended the interview and had made a notation that she’d started crying during it and when he left her she was still in tears, Trey comforting her. When he was questioned, Trey reiterated everything they’d already told Ramon was all they knew.