Looking down at his flaccid cock, he went to the closet. “Not tonight.”
The room grew quiet. When he emerged in a pair of lounge pants, she wore an expression of concern. “We’re in a rut.”
“We’re fine. I’m just tired.” That had to be it.
“Do you want me to go?”
He wanted to get out of this fucking mood, but he couldn’t figure out how! “No, I want you to stay.”
As he brushed his teeth, she slipped out of her clothes and followed him into the bathroom. She used the sink when he was finished and they climbed into bed together. Once the lights were out, her hand skated over his thigh and reached into his briefs, but nothing was going on there.
“Isadora.”
“What?” she giggled.
“I meant it when I said I was tired.”
She accepted his excuse and rolled to her back. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, bella.”
The following afternoon he silently waited as a nurse ripped a blood pressure cuff off his arm.
“Pressure’s a little high.”
He awkwardly sat on the crinkling paper of an exam table. After making a note in his chart, the nurse slid the clipboard into the holder by the door.
“The doctor will be in shortly.”
Vivian Sheffield entered the room a few minutes later, appearing pleased to find him in her office. “Sawyer, it’s good to see you.” She grabbed his chart, but rather than read it, she smiled and asked, “What brings you in today?”
He hesitated, trying to tactfully explain his concerns. He’d known Vivian all her life and knew she was a good doctor, but sometimes it was difficult being direct with a medical professional when you knew them on a personal level as well.
“I’ve been … more tired than usual.”
She nodded, now flipping through his chart and making a quick note. “Any changes in your day-to-day life?”
“No. Things have been a little tense at work.”
“Any symptoms besides exhaustion?”
He cleared his throat and her gaze lifted to his face. “I … haven’t been able to…”
This was fucking humiliating and he debated making up a lie and figuring out a different solution, but he needed to fix this now. Isadora was beginning to question his attraction to her and he didn’t want her putting the blame on herself.
He cleared his throat again. “…perform.”
Understanding dawned and Vivian nodded, placing the chart aside. “Well, that could be a number of things. Age can be a factor as well as stress. How old are you now, fifty-four?”
“Fifty-six.”
“It’s not uncommon for men to have a drop in testosterone at that age. Your blood pressure’s a bit escalated as well. We can run some blood work to see if there are any other issues that might be coming into play.”
Her explanations were similar to what he’d read online, but not necessarily giving him the solution he needed. “What about something I could take?”
She smiled. “There’s that too. Would you like me to write you a script?”
“Please.”
An hour later he was leaving the pharmacy feeling hopeful but old. Tucking the prescription into his pocket he backed out of the pharmacy parking lot and called Isadora through his Bluetooth.
“Hey, you.”
“Bella.” Today they were not going to argue. “Can I see you?”
“When?”
There was really no point in returning to the office this late in the day. “How about now?”
Seeming to sense what he had in mind, her voice took on a sultry tone. “I can be there in twenty minutes.”
“Good. I’ll see you then.”
At the next traffic light he cracked open the bottle and swallowed a small, blue pill. When he pulled up at his house Isadora’s car was already in the garage. He entered the house and found her sitting on the top step, wearing his robe, her bare legs delicately crossed and casting shadows over secret places.
Dropping his keys onto the table by the door he smiled up at her. “You beat me here.”
“It’s been a while since you called me in the middle of the day like that. I wasn’t sure where you wanted me.”
She was so beautiful, so sexy. His body responded in an instant, and relief swept through him.
“I want you everywhere,” he rasped as blood rushed to his cock.
She gracefully stood, letting his robe slide off her shoulder onto the landing. Like a goddess, she came to him in a slow descent that had his heart pumping.
His cock was throbbing by the time she pressed her bare breasts to his front, her soft lips curving into an inviting smile. He lowered his mouth to hers. Heaven.
Her hands drifted over him, stroking his arms and sides, sliding over his clothes. He groaned as she cupped him through his pants.
“Well, hello ,” she whispered, fitting her hand over the bulge behind his zipper.
He wanted her and he wanted her now. A fire burned in his blood as he backed her to the wall, his mouth sealing over hers and taking greedily.
She lifted her knee, hooking a leg above his hip as he ground into her. His mouth closed over her pulse as he fit his fingers between her thighs and teased.
“Sawyer… What’s gotten into you?”
“I’ve missed you.”
It wasn’t that he’d stopped wanting her. That would be impossible. He always wanted her. Things would be better now that he had the pills.
She arched into his touch and quivered as he stroked her folds, her body quickly responding in a carnal display of utter feminine perfection. His pulse raced with need and he had to get inside of her.
He unlatched his belt, fingers shaking with urgency, and turned her to face the wall. “I need to be inside of you, bella.”
“Please.” Her palms splayed on the wall, her bare ass pressing into his thighs. He gripped his engorged flesh, lining the tip up to her wet sex, and surged deep.
Her head fell forward as she moaned. He drilled into her. The long line of her spine accentuated her willowy body as it curved with his every advance. Her cries of pleasure echoed through the hall as he gripped her hips and buried himself to the root.
“Yes! Oh my God, don’t stop .”
Relieved to have her again, have his body responding to her the way it always had, he found himself insatiable. More than hungry for her—he was starved.
She cried out, her sex contracting tightly around his swollen cock and milking his release hard enough to skew his vision. Seeing stars, he pulled out of her and rested his body against hers, caging her slender form with his as she shivered against the wall.
He blinked, literally blurry-eyed from the force of his release. “I needed that.”
She sighed happily. “I’d say.” Her body turned inside of his arms and she faced him, her lashes low and her smile a bit drowsy. “Wow.”
Once they recovered, he went into the kitchen and made a plate of fruit and cheese, snagging a bottle of wine on his way up to the bedroom.
Isadora rested like an invitation across his pillows and his body had yet to flag. If he could get his eyes to clear he’d be golden.
“Thirsty?” he asked.
“Mmm,” she answered, popping a grape into her mouth and holding out a glass.
They nibbled on fruit and quenched their thirst, then he moved the plate and wine aside. Her body rested in a tangle of tempting limbs and he could hardly believe he was ready to have her again.
Rolling her to her back, he kissed her slowly, tasting the wine on her tongue and taking his time exploring her curves.
She smiled up at him as he caressed her breasts. “You’re awfully ambitious today.” Her fingers curled around his heavy flesh and stroked.
“I can’t get enough of you.”
Realizing how worried he’d been that they might lose this connection, his relief was immeasurable. She was his comfort, his solace, his relief after the worst of days. He needed he
r and he needed this.
He pulled her body under his. “I want to make love to you all night.”
Her thighs parted and he slid home, his eyes closing on a surge of ecstasy. “I’m going to hold you to that promise,” she sighed, her nails dragging slowly down his back.
Sometime in the middle of the night he jerked awake to a strange sensation. His breathing was labored and, as Isa’s body warmed his side, he recalled he wasn’t alone.
Brow tight, his palm pressed into his chest where a dull ache formed, then sharpened enough that he bared his teeth as he winced. Isadora slept soundly beside him and he didn’t want to disturb her, not if he didn’t have to. Wincing again, he tightened his lips and swallowed a groan.
Fuck, that was a sharp one, but each wave waned before any real concern could form. Maybe it was just heartburn. Lying in the dark he waited for the ache to recede, but it seemed to spread through to the center of his back with every inhalation, intensifying until his hands trembled, then disappear for a few minutes. Another sharp twinge stole his breath.
Looking to his left, he debated if he should wake her, but the pain receded again, convincing him it was just anxiety or something mild. He’d wait it out, breathe through it, and eventually it would pass.
His mind turned over random thoughts—work, family, Slade, Isadora—until he was wide awake. It had been about ten minutes since the last wave of pain, so maybe he was out of the woods.
Slipping out of bed he went to the bathroom, uncharacteristically winded from the short walk. Short of breath, he kept his hand close to the wall for balance.
A sudden, sharp pain stabbed through the center of his chest and he doubled over against the vanity. “Jesus Christ.”
He caught his breath and pressed the heel of his palm into his ribs. The pain stayed, not piercing, but radiating and pulling like a knot cinching tight around his lungs and shoulders. His heart thundered, beating at the back of his ribs as his skin beaded with sweat.
“Fuck.”
He took a sip of water from the faucet and opened the medicine cabinet, clumsily shoving items around until he found the aspirin. Small bottles rattled and clattered into the porcelain sink. Cracking open the cap with his teeth, he swallowed a pill and bent to wash it down with more water from the spigot.
His arms trembled as if he’d just lifted three hundred pounds. Splashing cool drops over his face, he caught his breath, the palpitation of his heart marking every half second and triggering his panic. Was this an anxiety attack or a heart attack? Sharp pain interrupted his decision and he shut his eyes.
Vivian had briefly reviewed side effects with him that afternoon. She’d mentioned something about possible chest pain, but nothing of this magnitude. This felt like a fucking elephant sitting on his chest, crushing his ribs, breaking his shoulders.
Sweat beaded on his brow as the throbbing ebbed and flowed. Maybe he should call someone, but didn’t want to worry Isadora if it turned out to be nothing. He also didn’t want to explain that these sensations might be the result of treating impotence.
If it got any worse he’d have to wake her. The waning ache subsided enough for him to breathe again, enough for him to believe this episode was not a life or death situation. But it was a terrifying slap in the face, one that left him shaken. He needed a few minutes to find his bearings.
He waited in the bathroom, drifting in and out of sleep as he slouched over the sink. It must have been close to an hour before the discomfort eased enough to dismiss his fears completely.
Sliding quietly under the covers he tried not to disturb Isadora, but she’d always been a light sleeper. Eyes still closed, she rolled to face him and draped her arm over his stomach, snuggling into his side.
“You okay?”
“Just getting a glass of water,” he lied, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Go back to sleep.”
She sighed and a moment later her weight sank into him.
He didn’t go back to sleep. As he lay in the dark, the sun slowly rising and casting light across the shadows, he worried what these side effects meant in the long run, his thoughts taking a morbid turn.
If something happened to him, Slade would handle Leningrad. His estate was in order and he knew his son would be taken care of. But what about Isadora?
His blood chilled as he considered things no man wanted to think about. Who would look after her? Who would love her and keep her safe? She was capable of taking care of herself, but he wasn’t ready to lose her.
Angry that his body was betraying him, he considered what would happen if he couldn’t take the pills anymore. Maybe this was a one-time thing. They’d overdone it tonight and that might be why his heart reacted in such a way.
Nevertheless, his response scared him. It was a risk he wasn’t sure he’d be willing to take in the future. He loved sex, but it would never be worth dying for. Maybe there was a different brand of pills he could try.
Maybe you should try dating someone your own age…
What the hell difference would that make?
He sighed, doing the same math problem he’d done nearly every day of the past decade. Their age difference had always been a factor, something he knew would someday become a burden, but he wasn’t ready for that day to come. Not yet.
In the back of his mind he berated himself. This could all be a case of heartburn he was turning it into some midlife crisis. Tomorrow he’d give Vivian a call and see how things went the next time he took the medication.
Part III
Isadora
Chapter Twenty-One
“Later on he will understand how some men so loved her,
that they did dare much for her sake.”
Bram Stoker
Dracula
“Good lord!” Isadora shrieked, pivoting away from the den where her sister and Shamus were practically clawing each other’s clothes off.
Despite everyone’s warnings, Toni had finally gotten her wish and captured Jamie’s heart. Lucian had been angry when he’d first learned his best friend was sleeping with his little sister, but eventually he got over himself and accepted that Toni was an adult and entitled to make her own decisions.
He just … got over it.
That could have been Isa. If she and Sawyer had disclosed their relationship before the falling out at work, Lucian might have accepted their relationship and everything would be normal now. But it wasn’t. Not even close.
She felt robbed. After years of carefully guarding her heart and hoping she and Sawyer might someday exist as a normal couple, her dreams were dashed. As things stood, their families had no interest in crossing paths—too many bridges burned.
Sawyer used to worry about her missing opportunities, but keeping silent as a couple over the years seemed the greatest missed opportunity of all. The Bishops—for reasons unknown to her—had betrayed her brother’s trust and Lucian was not a man to overlook such things.
She didn’t care what their reasons were. She hated that the two men she loved most in this world refused to work out their differences, neither one seeming to realize how much their actions affected her.
But she endured, keeping her brother in one part of her life and Sawyer in another. It wasn’t what she wanted. It had never been what she wanted. But for the first time ever, she lacked the optimism to hope things might change for the better.
Everyone was in love. Her sister had Shamus. Lucian and his wife, Evelyn.
Isadora was the oldest. She should have been the first to marry, but the way things were going, she’d be the last— if it ever happened at all.
Having given the lovebirds enough time to compose themselves, she called from the hallway, “Can I come in now?”
“Yes,” they both answered and Isadora cautiously entered.
“Get a room, you two. My house isn’t an orgy den.”
“Sorry, Isa,” Shamus apologized, putting some distance between him and Toni.
“You’re lucky it wasn’t Lucian
walking in here. Toni, fix your hair.”
Her sister giggled, not a modest bone in her body.
“Lucian and Evelyn are getting ready to leave if you want to say goodbye.” Once a month her siblings came over for a family dinner and those were the moments Isadora treasured.
On the weekends, she volunteered at the new homeless shelters, taking great joy in her brother’s recently discovered passion for helping others—one of the many good qualities his wife brought about in him.
Her evenings were spent on campus as she was on the last leg of earning her master’s degree. And when she didn’t have class, she passed her nights with Sawyer.
But as time went on she found those intimate moments between them coming further and further apart. It was almost as if they were moving backward, sometimes barely spending one night a week together like they used to in the beginning.
Trying not to dwell on her personal life, she followed her sister and Shamus to the foyer to say goodbye to her brother and Evelyn.
“Are we getting together for lunch this week?” her sister- in-law asked.
Isadora truly adored the woman, finding her to be a breath of fresh air that their family very much needed. “Yes, one o’clock?”
“I’ll meet you in the lobby.”
It was their thing to meet at the hotel once a month to catch up on gossip. So many times Isadora had wanted to confide in Evelyn about Sawyer, but her sister-in-law was beyond loyal to Lucian. Isadora didn’t want to burden her with keeping a secret from her husband.
They said their goodbyes and Isadora watched the four of them leave. When she shut the door she felt the weight of emptiness pressing in.
It was a rainy day, so distracting herself in the gardens was out of the question. She could go to Sawyer’s, but feared her presence might not be wanted.
She didn’t know what was happening to them. Sawyer had always reached for her in the middle of the night, but now he only reached for her on occasion. Some nights he claimed he was too tired to fool around. That was fine. She was satisfied just to be near him. But as his libido changed, so did their relationship.
Sacrifice of the Pawn: Spin-Off of the Surrender Trilogy (Surrender Games Book 1) Page 24