But as far as I was concerned, the most important question hadn’t been covered yet. So during that final appointment, I made it my priority question once I knew I wasn’t going blind.
“So, um, doc, you know that bit in the leaflet about ‘strenuous activity’?”
“Yes, and even now we advise no heavy lifting. No weightlifting for example,” he said, eyeing me closely, and looking pointedly at my biceps. At least I still had some muscle tone after being a complete freakin’ couch potato for a month.
“Nah, that’s okay. I haven’t lifted any weights. I’ve just been doing a few sit ups and push ups this last week to stop myself completely veggin’ out.”
“Do you run, Mr. Kane?”
I really couldn’t get used to all this mistering.
“I did. I haven’t started again.” I pointed to my chest. “Busted ribs, too.”
“Ah, of course. Even so, I wouldn’t recommend you start running again just yet. Maybe in a couple of months when things have settled down.”
I sighed.
“What about sex, doc?”
“Excuse me?”
“Please tell me I’m good to go. I’m about going crazy here!”
“Ah, I see. Well, it depends on how, um, vigorous the intercourse is. Ideally, I’d recommend against that.”
“Aw, hell! For how much longer?”
“Well, gentle activity will be fine.”
What the hell does that mean?
“In English, doc?”
“Ah, let your partner take most of the, uh, strain.”
“You mean let her be on top?”
“That would be one way of looking at it.”
Okay, I could live with that.
“For how long? When can we … do other stuff?”
He smiled. “Mr. Kane, frustrating as this may seem, it’s really only in your best interests to let nature take its course and allow your eye to heal completely. Within two or three months, you’ll be pretty much back to living a normal life. We’ll have to look out for cataract development, as you know. But other than that, just try to take things easy for now.”
Yep, clear as mud.
I stood up.
“Thanks for everythin’, doc. I appreciate it.”
“Not at all. I’ll make a follow up appointment for you in…”
“Actually, doc, we’re not plannin’ on stayin’ around here. We’re gonna start again somewhere new.”
He looked surprised.
“So, if I could get a copy of my chart to take with me, that would be mighty handy.”
“I’ll certainly do that for you, Mr. Kane.” He reached over to shake my hand. “Good luck with everything.”
As I walked out of the door, he said, “Remember, nothing vigorous.”
Bastard.
But still, it was a green light as far as I was concerned.
Of course, organizing a night of romance wasn’t so simple bearing in mind I still lived with my parents, and my woman was a screamer.
I considered the options: even the cheapest motel would have wrecked my finances. I’d got a couple of month’s wages from Hulk saved up—a few hundred bucks—but the bonus he’d given me was earmarked for something real important. Money was in damn short supply and now I couldn’t work, and what with planning to start fresh I needed to save what I had.
In the end, I had to resort to begging. I phoned Dad at his office.
“Dad, any chance you could take Momma out somewhere tonight?”
He sounded puzzled.
“Out?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, Dad, out. I’d just like to cook Torrey a nice meal and spend some alone time with her.”
Alone time, Dad! Take the freakin’ hint!
“Well,” he said, hesitantly. “Perhaps I could take your mother out to dinner. It might be good for us, too. Fine, I’ll do it. We’ll be home by 9 PM.”
“You could take in a movie after,” I suggested.
He sighed. “I’ll ask her. I’m not promisin’.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
Momma left the house soon after five, which gave me just half an hour to get everything ready.
My culinary skills were still limited by my budget, but I’d had an idea. I’d stopped at Krogers to buy a couple of pieces of trout, baking potatoes, and a bag of salad. I hoped the menu would remind Torrey of our first date.
Because I was short on time, I started off the potatoes in the microwave, then slung them in the oven to crisp up, grilled the fish, and cursed myself for not buying candles.
Jeez, I used to have game.
I dug around in the garage and found an old hurricane lamp and a couple of stubs of emergency candles. That would have to do. I ran around like a crazy person, putting finishing touches to my plan. At the last minute I remembered that we needed music. I’d lived without it for so long, it just wasn’t usually something I thought about. I’d saved up to buy a radio in prison once, but it was broken the first week I got it when my asswipe of a cell mate got into a fight with someone he owed money to. I didn’t bother again after that.
Torrey had taken her iPod to work so I found an old CD in Mikey’s room, Smashing Pumpkins, and stuck that on. I’d heard Torrey play it so I hoped that would be a good start in setting the mood.
It didn’t work, of course.
She came crashing in through the door at a quarter before six, late enough to have me pacing up and down.
“Jordan Kane, you’re up to something!” she yelled as soon as she set a foot through the door.
How the hell did she know? Damn woman was psychic.
“Hey, sweetheart,” I said, sweeping her into a tight hug. “How was your day?”
“Groovy. Now why don’t you tell me what the hell’s going on? Where are Paul and Gloria? Their cars are missing.”
“Out. We’ve got the whole place to ourselves. I’ve cooked for us. Come through and make yourself comfortable.”
She threw me a suspicious look.
“What did the doc say at your appointment? You were supposed to text me!”
“Sorry, sweetheart, I wanted to tell you in person. It’s all good. And I got a copy of my chart to take … well, wherever we go.”
She smiled and relaxed. “Aw, that’s great, honey. Come and get some sugar!”
She pouted her pretty lips at me, and I didn’t need a second invitation.
I dropped pecks across the corners of her mouth and then tugged at her lower lip with my teeth.
When she opened, I kissed her deeply, sliding my tongue against hers, utterly caught up in the way it felt: her sweet, coffee flavor; the sensation of being joined with her, tasting her.
We’d avoided doing this for a whole goddamn month because it was just impossible for us to keep from getting carried away.
“Jordan,” she murmured against my lips, “stop tempting me! We can’t!”
“Actually, sweetheart, we can. Got the all clear from the doc.”
She gave a little gasp and attacked my throat with her hot, wet mouth, making me groan loudly. But then she pushed away.
“Wait just a darn minute!” she snapped. “I’m not sure I believe you! Tell me exactly what he said.”
Busted.
I couldn’t lie to her. I just couldn’t do it.
“Okay, fine. He said we could go ahead so long as we didn’t do anythin’ ‘vigorous’. But I’m beggin’ you, sweetheart, I’ve missed this, us, so badly…”
She laughed and raised her eyebrows. “You can have sex but it can’t be ‘vigorous’? Is that even possible?”
Nope, I didn’t think so either.
She wrinkled her nose, suddenly distracted. “Are you cooking something?”
I smiled. “Yep, trout and baked potatoes.”
She grinned at me and let her fingers trail down my back, over my t-shirt.
“Are you trying to seduce me again, Jordan Kane?”
“God, yes! How am I doin’?”
She smir
ked at me. “Not bad, although did he really say that we can’t do anything ‘vigorous’?”
I nodded mutinously.
“Hmm, well, I guess we might just have to get creative.” She smiled. “Let’s eat first, I’m starving.”
Even though dinner had been part of the plan, I couldn’t help feeling frustrated that food was getting in the way of taking my woman to bed. That and the thought of trying to force food into my stomach when my cock was throbbing in my pants. Fuckin’ luck.
Distraction. Food.
I served up the fish onto warmed plates and slid a potato off of the skewer for her.
“And, um, there’s salad, too,” I said, pushing a bowl of leaves and green shit in front of her.
“Thanks, cowboy,” she smirked.
She knew I hated salad. I just didn’t see the point of it.
“And, um, there’s this,” I said, taking a bottle of champagne from the fridge.
Torrey clapped her hands together and watched as I popped the cork. I poured two glasses and handed one to her.
“To us, sweetheart.”
“To us.”
I sipped slowly, surprised by the way the bubbles felt on my tongue. It seemed strange to me. Truthfully, I’d forgotten what alcohol tasted like. I hadn’t even had a beer in the last month. Despite not being on parole any longer, Torrey had banned it on the grounds that I was taking way too many drugs to mix and match. It didn’t bother me.
I was nervous about drinking again, but I’d wanted tonight to be special.
The champagne was kind of sweet, kind of sharp, and the bubbles made my tongue tingle—all things that reminded me of Torrey.
“So,” she said, slowly. “I guess we really are free to take off now.”
“I guess we are.”
“Well, where do you want to go?”
I shook my head. “I don’t care, just so long as it’s with you.”
“No plans at all?”
“Sweetheart, I’ve had every minute of every day planned for me for the last eight years. So let’s travel, see stuff, go wherever. I spoke to Hulk and he wrote me a reference so I should be able to get a job. If you get one from Gus, we’ll be able to pick up casual work whenever we run out of money. If we find somewhere we like, I guess we just stop drivin’. How does that sound?”
She grinned. “I like that non-plan. What’s for dessert?”
“I was really hopin’ you’d ask that.”
“Were you now?”
“Dessert is upstairs.”
She curled her lips in a smile. “I thought it might be.”
We cleared the plates from the table and stacked everything into the dishwasher. Torrey picked up the champagne bottle, which was still half full, and I carried the glasses.
I swayed slightly. I was definitely getting a buzz from the booze. I decided not to drink anymore; I didn’t want to spoil tonight.
I let Torrey lead the way up the stairs, not just to appreciate the view of her ass, but to hear her gasp of surprise as she opened our bedroom door.
“Oh! You … you did all this?”
I nodded, watching the glow of happiness on her face as she looked around. The hurricane lamp threw a gauze of soft shadows around the room, and the two candles flickered in the breeze from the open window. I’d filled the room with flowers that I’d picked in the fields beyond the cottonwoods. I could name some of them. I used to pick them with Momma when I was a little kid. There were cowpen daisies, flame vines, Mexican heather, butterfly milkweed, and some pink things that I had no idea what they were called. I thought Torrey would like them. They were wild and natural, just like her.
“Jordan, it’s beautiful! You are definitely getting laid tonight, cowboy.”
“Thank fuck for that! My balls aren’t even blue anymore, they’re freakin’ purple after lyin’ next to you night after night and not bein’ able to do anythin’ about it.”
She laughed. “On the bed now! Oh wait, take your clothes off first!”
It was my turn to laugh. “Did you forget how this works?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Like you and I haven’t had sex with most of our clothes on before now because you were too impatient to get me naked!”
That was true.
I toed off my tennis shoes and lined them up under the chair. I knew that Torrey was trying not to laugh at me, but I couldn’t help being tidy. Besides, I knew she’d be messy enough for both of us.
I’d gotten out of the habit of wearing socks. Mostly because the first couple of weeks I’d been home from the hospital, I couldn’t bend down to put them on. And I didn’t want Torrey dressing me like I was a damned invalid.
She watched while I undid my shirt buttons one at a time, and licked her lips. Yeah, my woman liked to watch.
Soon I was standing there in just my jeans. I was so turned on, I knew I wouldn’t last as long as I wanted. It reminded me so much of the first time we’d been together, except now I knew how she felt about me.
I unbuckled my belt and pulled down the zipper.
“You want to do the rest, sweetheart? I’m all yours.”
“Oh, I want!” she said.
She yanked my jeans over my ass and palmed my dick as it leapt out toward her. I was seconds away from coming and she’d barely touched me.
She knelt down in front of me and ran her tongue over and around the head of my cock, and my whole body responded. I grabbed her shoulders to keep from falling.
“Torrey, I…”
“Shh,” she murmured.
“Please, sweetheart,” I begged her. “I’m gonna…”
But she was in charge. Oh boy, was she in charge.
I came so freakin’ hard, I saw stars. It was unbelievable pleasure after a month-long ban, and off the chart pain as my ribs protested at the way I was gasping for breath.
She smiled up at me, licking her lips, as I fought to control my body, trembling from eyeballs to toes.
“That was some dessert, cowboy,” she laughed. “You look like you need to lie down.”
She was still in charge. God, I loved that, but one thing I knew for sure, another few weeks from now and I was going to be the one calling the shots.
“Enjoy it while you can, sweetheart,” I gasped out. “Payback’s a bitch.”
She arched one eyebrow as she smiled at me, stripping her clothes from her beautiful, perfect body.
“I’m counting on it. But for now, I’m in charge. On the bed.”
I didn’t want to disrespect a lady, especially one who had me by the balls—literally—so I lay down.
I tried to run my hands along her body but she flicked them away.
“Uh-uh!” she smirked, wagging her finger at me. “And remember, nothing too vigorous.”
I rolled my eyes. She was never going to let me forget that.
“You know,” she said, thoughtfully, “the first day I saw you, I thought, now that’s a long, cold drink of water on a hot day.”
“You did?”
“Why do you think I followed you out with that darned coffee?”
I frowned in concentration, recalling every detail of that day.
“At first, I thought it was because you felt sorry for me, because … you know.”
“And later?”
“I was confused. I couldn’t work out why you’d done it if it wasn’t … charity. I guess I just thought you were being nice.”
She laughed out loud. “I was!”
“So, you’d have followed me out to the truck if I’d been toothless, bow-legged and with a gut that reached my knees?”
“Oh, especially then!” she smiled. “Honestly, Jordan, I think I would have taken a coffee to anyone just to make dismal Doreen pissed. But you…” and she licked her lips again, “you were definitely a special case. In fact, just looking at you makes me thirsty all over again.”
She reached over to the bedside cabinet and took a long drink from her champagne glass.
“You want some?”
“No, sweetheart. I reckon I’ve had enough for tonight.”
“Pity,” she said, a wicked look in her eye.
Then she dribbled champagne from her mouth onto my chest and down toward my belly button. It wasn’t cold, but it still made me jump. The movement drew a curse from me as my ribs protested.
“Oops, sorry!” she giggled. “Let me make it up to you.”
And she licked down my whole body. My whole body.
“It’s nice having you back in one piece,” she said, with the air of someone at an art gallery. “You’re so pretty.”
“Pretty?” I scoffed.
“Yep. Very pretty. I mean, for fuck’s sake! You’ve got better skin than me, longer eyelashes, and cheekbones that could slice cheese. I have acne once a month and blow up like a beach ball.”
I couldn’t help laughing.
“Crazy woman! Come here and kiss me. I’d come to you, but that might be too vigorous.”
Her lips were warm against mine and sweet with champagne. Just kissing her was the Fourth of July, Christmas and every birthday rolled into one. My hands roamed across her narrow shoulders and down her arms, then back up to toy with her pretty little tits and rose-crested nipples.
I circled them with my thumbs, inhaling her gasps of pleasure.
I slipped one hand down to tease her clit, working her around, sliding my index finger in and out.
“Sweetheart,” I whispered, “bring that perfect lil’ pussy up here so I can taste you.”
She opened one eye and squinted at me.
“You want that?”
“Hell, yeah! Climb on up.”
She crawled up my body, careful to avoid my ribs. They were much better, but I don’t think I could have taken her clamping her thighs down on me. We’d have to work up to that.
I gripped her hips and pulled her body down to my face, breathing in her musky scent deeply. I loved the way she smelled, most of all when she’d been working all day and hadn’t showered. She was less sure, but damn, the way she tasted, it made me crazy.
I flicked my tongue up, and I heard the palms of her hands slap against the wall above the headboard.
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