Pieces Of Us: Missing Pieces Series, Book Three
Page 3
“I’ve thought about this,” he murmured between licking and sucking. “A lot.”
“Have you?” I was panting, not sure what else to say. I was so hard, it was almost painful.
“Since you told me we don’t use condoms.” He looked up at me as he sucked me like a lollipop. “I’ve been imagining how it feels.”
Christ, I was gonna come so fast.
He explored with his hands, touching, feeling, pumping, sliding with his tongue . . .
“Baby, I’m gonna come.”
He smiled as he took me into his mouth, deep and wet heat. I gripped the back of his head and he groaned, and that was all it took. I filled his mouth and he hummed between swallows.
Fuck.
He released me and I swayed, my blood was buzzing, my bones were like jelly, and he held my hips. “You okay there?”
I put my hands under his arms and lifted him to his feet so I could hold him. Or so he could hold me. I wasn’t sure which. I just needed the contact.
I needed him.
“You okay, babe?” he whispered.
I nodded into his neck. “So very okay.”
He chuckled. “Just so you know, I asked Megan which positions we could try that won’t hurt my leg.”
I snorted and pulled back. “You did?”
“Yeah, I think she almost died.”
I laughed and kissed him softly. “We’ll figure it out, baby.”
He sighed and met my eyes. “I don’t think I’m scared anymore. I don’t even know why I was. I just couldn’t bear the thought of pain or being vulnerable, I dunno why. I know you won’t hurt me.”
“I wouldn’t.”
“I used to love sex.”
I smiled. The truth was, he loved it a lot. “You did.”
“And I think about how gentle you are and how kind you are and how you know what I need,” he whispered. “And I began to imagine what that would be like in bed. What you’d be like, how you’d treat me, and what you’d do to me. And my body was like, ‘hell yes,’ and my brain was like, ‘okay, even I agree to that.’”
I laughed. “Glad they agreed.”
“They haven’t agreed on much since the accident,” he replied dryly. “But they agree on this. Mostly my body, not gonna lie. But Dallas, I want it. I want you. I’ve had enough pain in the last few months to last me a lifetime. I want to feel good. I want to know what pleasure is. And I know you’ll show me.”
“I will.”
“Just promise me something . . .”
I cupped his face. “Anything.”
“Please don’t be mad if I freak out or need you to stop.”
“Oh, baby. I would never be mad.”
“Because your dick is huge.”
I snorted out a laugh. “It’s not really.”
“Did it . . . did we ever have any . . . fitting issues?”
I laughed at that. “Ah, no.” I traced his eyebrow with my thumb, down his jaw, and across his bottom lip. “Baby, you loved it. You’d beg for it. You wanted it for hours.”
His nostrils flared and he swallowed hard. “Oh.”
I kissed him softly and whispered against his lips. “I will make it so good for you, you’ll never want it to end.”
His dick twitched against mine. “Uh, maybe we can have toast for dinner. I think we need to go to bed,” he said. Then he made a face. “I’m not ready for a sex marathon, but I’m sure you can make me come again. Maybe twice.”
I kissed him deeper, giving him some tongue, and his dick pulsed again between us. “Toast for dinner it is.”
We both slept like the dead. I’d wrung two more orgasms out of him like he’d asked, but maybe the last one had been too much. His body couldn’t handle that kind of muscle-expenditure, being so tense and taut, and as much as I’d tried to relax him, orgasms were a strain on a tired body.
But I’d had him lie on the bed, face down, his legs spread. I’d massaged and rubbed him down, sensually and intimately. Then with a little bit of lube, I’d rubbed his hole and fingered him, working him into a frenzy before I rolled him over and sucked him.
Then I’d knelt between his thighs and jerked off, spilling my come onto his belly. He was too tired to shower, so I cleaned him up and finally crawled into bed beside him. He wrapped himself around me and I held him just as tight.
“When we get the test results back,” he’d mumbled. “I’ll be so ready.”
We fell asleep and I don’t think either of us moved all night.
I was up before him and had the scrambled eggs on toast and coffees made as he came out of the bedroom. “Perfect timing,” I said.
He scowled, which was completely normal for Justin first thing, but he was limping more than usual.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Sore.”
“Oh, baby. I’m sorry,” I said, helping him to his seat.
He sipped his coffee first. “Nah, ’s okay. It’s a good sore. Well, not good. Physio sore is a bad sore. Overdoing it sore is a bad sore. Sore from too much sex is good sore.” He shrugged. “You know what I mean.”
I couldn’t help but smile a little. “I do. What I think was, coming three times last night was probably one time too many.”
He picked up his fork. “Speak for yourself.”
I snorted. “Okay, well, last night it was fine. Today, not so much.”
“I’ll be okay after a hot shower.” He ate some breakfast and nodded. “This is good. Thank you. One day I’ll cook you breakfast.”
I stabbed some egg with my fork. “Juss, you’ve never been a morning person. Ever.”
He made a face that was almost a smile. “Mornings’d be all right . . . if they started around lunchtime.”
I laughed. “Good to know some things never change, though, right?”
He conceded a nod, then sipped his coffee. “You know, this decaf stuff just isn’t great. Do you reckon I could have some real coffee one day?”
“We can ask Doctor Chang.”
“We see her first, right?”
“Sure do. Nine o’clock.” I checked the time on the microwave. It was six forty now. Plenty of time. “But today’s gonna be pretty busy, Juss. We’ve got Doctor Chang first, then the meeting with Angela to sign off on all the van and the medical costs, and if you still wanted, go to the clinic after that. But we can see how you’re feeling, and if it’s too much, we can go to the clinic another day.”
Juss bit into some toast. “I’ll be fine.”
“We can bring the scooter or the walking cane today.”
He shot me a not-pleased look. “No thanks. I can walk to a few appointments. And anyway, pretty sure I’ll be planted on the couch for the rest of the day. I was gonna spend the afternoon watching porn.”
I almost choked on my eggs, and one of Justin’s rare morning smiles formed behind his coffee cup. “I’m assuming Pornhub is still a thing? I haven’t checked,” he said.
After I’d collected myself and managed a mouthful of coffee, I gave a nod. “Ah, yeah.”
“You know,” he added, “for a long time, I didn’t think about sex at all. Now I know it’s a thing, I think about it a lot.”
My dick was particularly interested in this conversation. It was pressing awkwardly in my briefs and I had to shift in my seat. “That’s a good sign, right?”
“I think so.” He pushed his empty plate away and smiled at me. “Now, about that hot shower.”
Fucking hell. “If I join you in there, we’ll be late.”
He stood up, and sure enough, his boxers were tented at the front. He made no attempt to hide it. In fact, he stood there and smiled when I couldn’t take my eyes off it. “Pretty sure the doc said I wasn’t to shower alone.”
I laughed out a groan. This was the old Justin. This was the bossy, playful Justin that I’d missed like crazy.
He turned and made his way to the bathroom. I dumped all the plates in the sink and was naked before I got to the bathroom door. He laughed as I join
ed him in the shower, though he wasn’t laughing for long.
I made short work of him, and me, then quickly ran the soap over both of us. He was still in an orgasm haze when I shut the water off and handed him a towel. “Did we get any work done?” he asked as he dried himself. “Before, I mean. When we first got together. Did we ever have days when we couldn’t be stuffed going to work and just spent the day in bed? Because I feel like that’s something I would have done with you.”
I chuckled. “Not really. There were days we were late to open the shop and some weekends when we never bothered with clothes. But we never missed work, no.”
He sighed. “Did we ever have sex on your work desk?”
I laughed at that. “Nope.”
“The table in the lunch-break room?”
I grimaced. “Ew, no.”
He smiled. “Yeah, I agree. But your desk . . .”
I tied my towel off around my waist. “We’re not doing that.”
He towel-dried his hair and grinned at me. “What about on the bike hoist? I reckon I could lie on that and press the button till I was the perfect height for you to . . . you know, give me a grease and oil change.”
I laughed, like really laughed, but shook my head. “No. We didn’t do that.” I nodded to the door. “Come on. We need to get dressed.”
We opened the shop up and got everything ready for Davo and Sparra, and we left not long after they’d arrived. Juss was still in a good mood and it easily rubbed off on me. Seeing him happy and positive filled me with a real sense of hope.
Doctor Chang seemed to pick up on it too. “How is my favourite patient?” she asked, smiling as we walked in. “You look happy, Justin.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty good today.” He told her about his shit day the other day, and how hearing the song “When The War Is Over” had brought back the memory of the accident because it was playing on the radio when the truck had hit him, and the pain that went with it.
Doctor Chang explained to him what she’d said to me over the phone and how, while it might have felt frightening and overwhelming, it wasn’t uncommon. But Justin could only shrug.
“I kinda felt okay afterward. Not about the pain, but remembering the accident,” he said. “It’s probably weird, but I like that I can remember it. The unknown was always the scariest part. There was so much unknown. Still is, of the last five years, I guess. But I prefer to remember it, even if it’s not a happy memory.”
“That’s not weird at all, Justin,” Doctor Chang replied.
Then he told her about the good days he’d had this week and how he’d been out to lunch and what he’d been doing at work. He still needed to rest every day, but that was getting less frequent over time, and he could do more things and his mind was clearer. No, he hadn’t remembered anything else this week, but he told her how he wanted to focus more on the now, not a past he couldn’t really remember.
She smiled like a proud mum. “And Dallas,” she pressed. “Seems like a positive week?”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “There’s been some changes. Good changes,” I said to Justin with a squeeze of his hand. I looked back to the doc. “The other night, Justin was talking about the future, and that was . . . that was amazing. Just a few weeks ago, he couldn’t think far enough ahead to know if he wanted lunch; now he’s making plans, so it’s a huge step forward. His mind fog seems to be really clearing now.”
Doctor Chang nodded, and she spoke about cognitive improvements and recognising milestones and achievements, remediation and compensation. But no, she couldn’t recommend he drink proper coffee because of how caffeine reacted with a TBI, but yes, exploring sexual intercourse was fine, and no, it was still too early to tell if he’d recover any more memories.
“So, Justin,” she said. “I want to see you next week, and the week after that you’re scheduled for a follow-up MRI and CT scans. Then if everything is as it should be and moving forward, we might see how you feel about follow-up appointments every two weeks instead of every week.”
“Oh. If you think I’m ready for that.”
“I do. I think you’re ready to move onto the next phase of your recovery,” she said. “These next scans will be the three-month mark. Then fortnightly appointments will take us up to the six-month mark. That’s a big milestone. Then you’ll move to monthly appointments until your next scans at the one-year mark.” She smiled. “So we might still only be taking things one step at a time, but you’re making some pretty big strides, Justin.”
He looked to me and smiled before he squeezed my hand. “Sounds good to me.”
We left Doctor Chang’s office and Justin was still smiling. He was a little tired but he wasn’t falling asleep on me like he used to when we left these appointments. “How you feeling, baby?” I asked as we drove out of the car park.
“I feel good. Bit pissed off that I can’t have caffeine.”
“One day.” I chuckled.
“And I’m thinking maybe that stupid cane might not have been such a terrible idea.”
“Is your leg sore?”
“Nah, it’s just draining. I don’t wanna trip over because I can’t lift my feet. Don’t tell Megan I said that.”
I chuckled. “Doctor Chang seems happy with your progress.”
He smiled. “I really like her, but I won’t be sad to see her every second week instead.”
I reached over and took his hand. “Me too, baby.”
“Do you think we could get a coffee after this next meeting? I mean, just a shitty decaf one.”
I laughed. “Sure, we can.”
A short time later, we arrived for our meeting with Angela, and thankfully we didn’t have to wait long. After some small talk, we sat in her office as she began to go through the files in front of her, and she explained to me, the way lawyers do, the itemised accounts for the van and the tools and then the hours and wages for Justin. It was everything she’d already told me and it was fair, so I was more than happy to sign off on it.
I couldn’t sign it quick enough.
Next was Justin’s lump-sum compensation. I knew he’d be entitled to something, and his medical costs were now covered. Angela explained things to Justin, though I had to wonder how much he was taking in. He was doing a fair amount of nodding and smiling, but it was more out of courtesy than agreeing. I followed along, and again, she reassured us it was all procedure and, in her opinion, very fair.
“Not many others are so lucky. Though each case is assessed on its merits, yours is quite deserving,” she said. “The funds will take some time to land in your account, because it’s quite a substantial sum. But once this is lodged, it should be straight forward. No long wait like last time.”
Justin nodded. “And we pay the medical bills with this, right?”
She shook her head. “No, this is separate. All the hospital bills are taken care of. This is your money.” She glanced at me before smiling back at Juss. “To spend however you see fit. The sum of three hundred and eighty thousand is compensation for your accident.”
Juss shrugged. “Oh, okay.”
Three hundred and eighty thousand . . .
“I’m sorry, what?” I asked. “Three hundred and eighty thousand . . . dollars?”
Angela looked at me. “Yes. Did he not tell you?”
I shook my head, and Justin shrugged again. “I was going to,” he said. “But then I had my appointment with my nurse, then I fell asleep, and then we talked about sex and I haven’t been able to think about much else, sorry.”
My mind was spinning, but not enough to realise he just talked about sex in front of Angela. She was blushing and somewhat horrified, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Sorry,” I said to her. “We got sidetracked yesterday. I’m just a little stunned. That is quite a chunk of money.”
Angela nodded. “I was happy with the result. The doctors agreed there was a significant change to the quality of life and that there will be long-term effects for Justin, so it was awarded accordingly.” She h
anded Justin the pen. “Are you ready to sign off on it?”
“I just want it all to be over,” Juss said. “Actually, what I want is my memories back and to be able to drink coffee again. And to have a leg and a brain that work properly would be good, but I’ll settle for this to be over so we can have some kind of normal again.”
Angela smiled. “That sounds good.”
Justin signed, though his signature wasn’t great, and he smiled at me when he put the pen down. Angela talked for a bit more, handed us our copies of files, and told us she’d be in touch once the payments came through.
We walked back to my ute, slower for Justin’s pace. He was getting tired now. But as soon as we were in, I burst out laughing. “You didn’t tell me how much they said you were getting.”
He just smiled and shrugged. “I forgot, sorry.”
I shook my head, still disbelieving. “Juss, this sets you up.”
He stared at me. “Me? Sets me up for what?”
“For life. For whatever you want.”
He didn’t smile. In fact, he stared out the windscreen and frowned. “What I want is my life back. What I want is for this to never have happened. I want to remember everything, and I want my head not to hurt. That’s what I want. No amount of money can do that.”
Shit.
“Oh, Juss, I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant. Sorry, it’s just a bit of a shock, that’s all. I know the money doesn’t make up for anything. That’s not what I meant.”
“I know.” He sighed. “I don’t mean to sound pissy. But I don’t want the money. And that’s not fair because you’ve been stressed about money, but I haven’t even thought about it all this time. I try to, and you’ve shown me my bank statements, but . . .” He shrugged. “I dunno. I guess I’ll need to start.”
I reached over and took his hand. “Baby, don’t worry about it. We can have the bank set up a separate account for it that only you can access.” Not that anyone could access his everyday account either, but I wanted him to know I wasn’t including myself in this. “Just let it sit there earning you some interest until you’re ready to look at it.”
He met my eyes and managed a small smile and a nod. “Sounds good.”