by Harper Sloan
"Don't you dare. We're going to keep this out, and each day, we will come back to it. We can pull them out one at a time, all at once, or just look at the fucking thing for all I care--but one thing we will be doing is talking about this. I'll talk until I'm blue in the face and you're going to sit there and listen to me. And, Maddox?"
"Yes, Emersyn," I respond, waiting to see where she's going with this.
"I don't care if it takes every day I have left on this Earth, but by the time we finish, you're going to be able to let go of everything that's physically in this box and every piece of garbage you've let it collect within you."
By the time she finishes, we're both breathing heavily. I have no doubt that she means it, and even though I can't help but feel nervous about the thought of reliving my nightmares daily, with her, part of me feels instant relief that she isn't giving up on me now that she knows what a vile soul I have.
"I mean it, Maddox."
"I know you do, angel."
"And when we're done, I'm going to remind you of this moment and the promise I'm about to make to you," she says, her eyes begging me to believe.
"Go on," I urge.
"One day soon, when we're able to take the majority of this and throw it away. The day that you believe every word that I'm telling you as the truth that it is--that day, you're going to feel the beauty of life, and the peace that you feel won't even hold a candle to the love I'm going to drown you in."
I give her a nod, not trusting myself to speak, and go to pick up the box again. She doesn't move her hand until I bring my eyes back to hers.
"Don't make me spank that doubt out of you," she teases.
"Emersyn," I warn.
Her eyes spark and her full lips tip up. "Keep doubting me. I dare you."
"That sass is going to get you in trouble soon."
She lets her hold on the box go and smiles. "I'm looking forward to it."
I drop the box on the top of my dresser, turning to look at her so that she sees that I'm willing to do this her way. I would be lying to myself if I said that I'm not hoping she's right. Just the thought of feeling some peace is tempting enough for me to continue this fight. One that I know will be undoubtedly easier as long as she's right there with me.
When I turn around, she's lying on her back and looking at me hopefully. With a deep breath, I round the bed and sit. She's seen me without my leg on. She's seen my stump. She knows what I've been so careful to keep hidden because of the shame it gives me. Even with all of that, she's still here, still wanting to be here. Knowing how I became this broken man didn't change her mind at all.
That doesn't lessen my self-consciousness about my...defect.
"Take it off, baby," she whispers.
"Just give me a second."
"I won't give you a second. I gave you four years' worth of seconds. It's time for you to be a big boy and take it off," she fumes.
I look at her and want to laugh at the situation. I should have known that, while I'm falling back on to my own faults and shortcomings, she would still throw her sass. She's broken herself and still stands tall.
Can it really be that easy? To look at my life, find the positives--those things she thinks I'm missing because I'm too busy looking for the bad--and just let go?
Now or never, Maddox. You either keep moving forward with the hope or you let the fear consume you.
I hold her eyes, stand, and drop my sweats. Her eyes widen slightly, and had I not been staring at her directly, I wouldn't have seen it. She stands her ground and doesn't even flinch when I drop back down and remove my prosthetic. She doesn't say a thing as I slide back and swing my legs over. She doesn't make a sound until I lift my arm to pull her towards me.
Even then she doesn't say anything with her words. She lets out a shocked gasp and lifts up as best she can with one arm.
"What..." She doesn't finish her question, the words trailing off as she reaches one of her small hands towards my heated skin.
When I feel her fingertips graze the side of my body, I close my eyes and relish in the chills her touch elicits.
"I don't... Is that...Maddox?" Her fingers don't stop their tracing, their searching, as the question she didn't speak lingers in the air.
"Yeah. It's a rose, Emmy. It's a rose that I got the day after I almost gave in and gave myself to you after Axel and Izzy got married."
Her eyes jump to mine, shocked.
"I didn't forget that," I tell her. "Not for a second. Those stolen moments with you in my arms drove two things home--that you will forever be my Emersyn Rose and the only place you belonged was in my heart. I couldn't give that to you then, so I did the second best thing. I had a symbol of you placed on my body permanently."
"I don't know what to say to that," she sighs after a few moments of silently searching my eyes.
"So don't say anything. It's there. It happened."
"It's beautiful," she says, looking at the rose that starts just directly under my armpit and ends about six inches down. The rose is bright red, the stem done in black--with her name scripted down its length.
"Yeah...it really is," I agree, not talking about the ink on my body, but the feeling of having her after so long of believing I couldn't.
Maybe she's right. Maybe it is just as simple as she believes. God, I hope so, because if just the thought of her love feels this good, I can't imagine how it will truly feel.
I am just falling asleep, Emmy's body curled as best as she can into me without jarring her arm and leg and her head resting on my outstretched arm. She's been having a hard time sleeping today, so I'm hoping that, by keeping her close, she can rest more easily. A few times she woke up during the day crying out and I know she's thinking about her attack.
It makes me go instantly savage. Like an untamed beast, I want to go on attack mode, but I stifle it down and focus on being there when she needs me. It wouldn't do her a bit of good for me to lash out on her because I'm feeling the terror of having almost lost her.
"Maddox?" she utters into the darkness.
"Emersyn," I rumble back, my voice thick.
"I knew you would save me."
My body jolts and she moans in pain when I jar her body slightly. Shit.
"I fought him because I knew you would come. I fought him because I had a reason not to give up."
I'm shocked stupid, unable to even form a grunt in response because of the feeling of my heart beating wildly as it grows to improbable levels.
"I used everything I had to make sure we would have our chance. I told you I would never stop fighting for you, and even though I was physically fighting for myself, I was in that battle to win not just my life...but yours too.
"Jesus," I gasp past the lump in my throat.
"I would do it all over again. I'll never stop fighting."
I turn so that I'm on my side and shift my arm under her head so that she's resting on the crook of my elbow, coming up off the mattress to cup her cheek with my other hand and bring my face close. Our noses touch first and I rub hers softly before taking her lips in a slow and powerful kiss.
The second my mouth opens, our tongues come together, tangling slowly in a caress so electric that I can feel it burning its power throughout my body. My cock presses against her hip, painfully swollen, and my balls throb with need. My skin burns. I give her everything I have with just our mouths fused together.
I pull back with a gasp when I feel the coiling in the base of my spine warning me that, if I continue, I'm going to embarrass myself.
"Holy crap," she whispers in awe.
"I'm going to be worthy of you, Emmy," I vow softly, my cheek pressed against hers and my lips whispering my promise in her ear. "I promise you, angel. I'm going to be the man you deserve. I--God--I fucking love you."
She lets out a soft puff of air that lightly strokes against my cheek. I feel her chest shaking, and I bet she will be seconds from crying if I lean back.
"Such a poet," she sighs with a slight
wobble in her voice. "I've dreamt of hearing you say that, and I should have known that I would get a Maddox Locke version. Well, I fucking love you back."
I laugh, kiss her cheek, and move to lie back down. "Are you doing okay with everything that happened, Em?" I ask, afraid of what she will say. I hate the thought of her being fearful of anything.
"Yeah," she breathes. "Yeah, I really am. I could let it put a scar on my mind, but I'm not going to. I didn't fight to live so that I could be scared for the rest of my days. Of course I'm hurt, and I would be lying if I didn't admit that the majority of that hurt isn't the physical reminders--those will heal. It's the thought that my own father sent that monster after me. I guess, like a silly little girl, I had believed that, one day, he would love me like a parent should love their child." She laughs without humor. "I don't want to give them the power over my future, Maddox, so I'm choosing to live for the blessings I have and heal from this."
We don't say anything else, both of us lost in our own thoughts. I replay her words over and over again. Everything she said could be used in my situation. I can continue as I always have--or I can choose to live for the blessings I have resting in my arms.
I want those blessings. I want that blessed life. I want to live.
Chapter 28--Emmy--Two Months Later
Today is the day! I get my arm cast removed and the cast on my leg switched from the long-leg one to one that stops below the knee. I don't think I could be more excited about this if I were getting a million-dollar bonus and a happy ending. Although, I'm guessing I'll get that happy ending when we get home from the doctor's office. Dr. Moss told us that, depending on his examination, I would most likely be given permission to start weight-bearing activities. Just the thought of being able to get around just a fraction has my spirits soaring.
I've hated that Maddox has basically had to put his life on hold. There hasn't been anything I can do on my own. The only plus is that the sponge baths have become really creative.
Things have changed drastically since that night we whispered our love in the dark. He tells me, even if it isn't daily, that he loves me. He's more open with his thoughts and feelings, but his smiles still come few and far between.
We've also been able to throw away almost all of the contents of his box. There are three things still in there: the letter from his fallen soldier's widow, the picture of that vile bitch Mercedes, and his Medal of Honor. He's also been working with a psychologist to help him further than I can with what pains him. Every day, I see the weight on his shoulders ease up more and more.
I couldn't be prouder of him.
"Are you excited?" he asks, bringing my hand up to his lips for a kiss.
"Hell yeah I am! I'm going to have BOTH my hands now. More for me to rub all over your hard body," I laugh. When his groan echoes through the exam room, my laughter becomes all-consuming. I'm pretty sure I snort too. "Well, and I'll be able to walk to the bathroom on my own. I'm going to miss my sponge baths though."
"You're going to miss your sponge baths? Just last night you were telling me that you hated them and couldn't wait until you had a real bath." His brow cocks, reminding me of the fit I threw last night.
"Uh, yeah...that was before you made me come on your tongue. Hey, I rhymed!" I start to laugh again, leaning back on the elevated exam table and resting my head against the soft padding "Jesus, did you spike my breakfast with something?" I joke, wiping the tears from my eyes and looking over at him.
I sober instantly when I see his face.
"Holy shit," I gasp.
He doesn't flinch. If anything, his smile gets even bigger. I've seen him smile before, but it's never been this big. This beautiful. This... It's everything I've imagined. His whole face changes. His eyes crinkle in the corners, his white teeth in contrast to the golden bronze of his skin, his dark eyes full of pure fucking happiness.
He laughs when I continue to stare at him. I'm afraid to move or speak for fear that it will vanish and I'll never see it again.
"You're beautiful." The whisper slips past my lips without permission and I slap my hand over my mouth with eyes wide.
"Still not sure that's a description I want to own," he grumbles, still smiling.
"Tough shit, big guy. You're stunning."
"Sass, Em."
"Sass, my ass," I tease.
"It's going to be your ass. I have eight weeks of your sass throwing to pink your ass with." He leans in, his arms braced against the table, his face inches from mine, and whispers, "You're going to beg for it. I'm going to enjoy every damn second of it too."
Before I can respond to his delicious threat, the door opens and Dr. Moss walks in. I shift in my seat and give Maddox a narrowed-eyed glare. He laughs and kisses me softly before moving out of the way.
"Are you ready to get started, Emersyn?" the doctor asks.
Without moving my eyes from Maddox, I reply, "You bet your ass I am."
Maddox's deep laughter booms through the small room, and I smile shyly in return. Dr. Moss looks up, trying to figure out what is going on, but he shrugs his shoulder before starting his examination.
Two hours later, we're back in Maddox's repaired Charger and rushing home. He runs two red lights and has us back in half the time.
Tonight is going to be magnificent.
When we park in the garage of the apartment complex, I look over to see Maddox deep in thought, staring out the windshield. He doesn't look troubled, just contemplative.
"You okay over there?" I probe, reaching out and rubbing his thigh with my newly freed arm. It hurts to move my wrist too much. The doctor warned that I would be feeling that way for a while, but I'm confident that, with the therapy plan he's worked out, I'll be back to normal in no time.
"You have no idea the strength it's taking me not to take you now...roughly. I'm worried that I won't be able to hold back and your body isn't ready to be fucked the way I want--no, need--to fuck you. I'm fighting with myself, Em, because right now, if I get out of this car without curbing some of this shit, I'm going to take you harder than you can take."
"Jesus Jones, Maddox. Is that supposed to be a deterrent?"
"You bet your ass it is! You have no idea the things I want to do to you."
"Well, then, I'll tell you what. How about you sit here and think about all those dirty things you want to do to me since you apparently have no plans on actually doing them any time soon. Don't mind me. I'll just sit here and take care of myself!"
I'm frustrated. So freaking frustrated. I get where he's coming from, but holy shit! How can he say that stuff and not think it's going to make me need him more?
His nostrils flare and his jaw ticks, but he doesn't move. I huff and jerk my hand from his thigh. The hell with this. I shove my strong hand down my sweatpants, moaning when my fingertips brush over my swollen nub. My panties are soaked, like completely saturated with my desire, and it won't take me but a second to bring myself to completion.
"Emersyn," he warns.
I roll my eyes, flip my fingers under the band on my panties, and push them deep, without ceremony, into my hot core. I can smell my arousal taking over the interior of his car. There is no damn way he can miss it. When I curl my fingers slightly and brush over my sweet spot, I cry out hoarsely, ending it in a long moan. My wetness coats my fingers as my walls starting to tremble. Just a few more thrusts and I'll break into a million pieces. I can feel it building, and even at my own hands, I know it will be powerful.
"Fuck!" His deep voice vibrates through the confined space and my core clenches. "Goddamn it!"
Lost in myself--literally--I don't even see him move before my hand is snatched out of my pants and my fingers are being shoved into his mouth. His tongue swirls around my digits and he closes his eyes on a moan.
He doesn't open them until I feel like my two fingers have been sucked clean. Releasing them with a pop, he gives me his eyes--his black eyes full of fire--and rumbles out a feral growl.
"The next
time you try to make yourself come, I'm going to fucking tie you to the bed and tease you until you pass out, but I won't let you come for goddamn hours. I'll bring your body to the edge, primed and ready to fall over the ledge, but never let you fall. Over and fucking over. Your screams of pleasure never hitting the peak that you pray I'll give. I'm in charge of your pussy, Emersyn. Don't fucking forget that your sweetness will only be given by me. My fucking fingers. My mouth. And MY cock."
"Holy shit," I pant.
He climbs out of the car, slamming the door behind him, and walks powerfully to my door. My eyes don't once move from the seat he just vacated.
I'm in his arms a second later, and wordlessly, he's charging to the elevators. For a brief second, I wonder if I pressed him too far before I push his aside and let the thrilling sensation his promise gives me take over.
Chapter 29--Emmy
"You need help stripping, Em?" he asks me when he sets me down on the edge of his bed.
I shake my head, not really sure if I'm answering him or telling myself. I honestly have no idea if I'll be able to get my clothes off.
"That's what I thought." His hands go to the hem of my tee and swiftly pull it over. My bra comes off even faster. Placing his hands under my armpits, he lifts my ass off the mattress. "You good?" he asks, making sure I have my balance before continuing.
With my nod, his hands go to the elastic band at the top of my baggy sweats. He's more careful with my pants, moving down as he pulls them and my panties to the ground. I feel his lips press against my knee and travel up my leg.
And just like that, he's gone. I sway, but his strong arms grab my shoulders to help steady me. After making sure I'm good on my feet, he takes a step back before lifting his shirt over his head. Inch by delectable inch, his stomach comes into view first. His wide chest is next. Then I bring my eyes to his and lick my lips. His focus follows the path of my tongue, and I have to squeeze my thighs tight when his groan rumbles through the room.
I bring my hands to my breasts and caress the swollen skin. My weaker arm gives me some pain when I tweak my nipples, but the look on his face makes it one hundred percent worth it.