Mike knew she was the woman he wanted to marry. He could picture children with a blend of their features, and he could not imagine ever making love to another woman. Wes had been his first, and he intended for her to be his only. He looked at his watch; he'd been out for over an hour. Perhaps Wes had cooled off by now, and they could talk about their issues. She's worth it, he thought before turning back in the direction of the apartment.
* * * *
At the apartment, Wes tossed and turned under the covers. She heard a faint salsa tune through her wine-induced fog. Ugh. She would have to change her stupid ringtone one of these days. She thought of ignoring it, but the sound of it was too irritating.
"Yes?” she groaned into the receiver.
"May I speak with Weslie LaPlume, please?"
"Speaking."
"Ms. LaPlume, this is Dr. Parsons from Saint Ignatius Regional Hospital. You are listed as Michael Weiss's next of kin, and I would like you to come down here if that's possible."
"Wait, what? Why? What's wrong with him?"
"Ms. Laplume, I would prefer to speak to you face to face if that's possible."
"Be right there,” Wes managed to get out before she flipped the phone closed.
* * * *
Wes rushed into the lobby of St. Ignatius. In her haste to get to the reception desk, she almost knocked over an old man sitting in a wheelchair.
"Sorry, sir."
"S'okay, doll,” the man slurred.
Wes rushed over to the reception desk.
"Excuse me,” she said, “I'm Weslie LaPlume. I'm looking for Dr. Parsons."
The homely brunette behind the desk put down the romance novel she was reading, rolled her eyes, and looked up at Weslie.
"Dr. Parsons,” Wes asked again. “Where is he? He called about Michael Weiss."
The woman flipped through a stack of papers. She picked up the receiver and paged Dr. Parsons to the front desk. She picked up her book and started reading again, as if Weslie were no longer there.
A few moments later, a silver-haired man walked up to Wes and introduced himself. Dr. Parsons had a handsome, angular face, and the fine lines around his eyes only added to his charm. Under different circumstances, Wes would have been tempted to imagine what lay beneath the lab coat and well-cut suit. She noticed that he glanced at her feet a few times as he spoke. By the third time, Wes followed his gaze and understood what Dr. Parsons had been too polite to point out. In her haste to get out of the house and into a taxi, Wes had forgotten to put her shoes on. Well, that wasn't important now
As he led Wes through the halls, Dr. Parsons explained that Mike had been crossing the street when an absent-minded driver hit him.
"Mr. Weiss was lucky. He suffered a few cuts and bruises, and a cracked mandible."
Weslie nodded. Dr. Parsons stopped as they reached a room which two officers were exiting. One was a hairy, stocky man who seemed quite bored, and the other was a statuesque redhead.
"This is Ms. LaPlume,” the doctor said, “She's Mr. Weiss's...?"
"Girlfriend,” Weslie finished.
The shapely officer stepped forward.
"Ms. LaPlume, the driver of the vehicle admitted fault, and he has insurance. So it looks like you won't have to worry about medical bills."
Wes glared at the redhead. Who on earth would think about money at a time like this?
"I don't care.” She turned to the doctor. “Can I see him now?"
"Go on in. He's probably sleeping though. We gave him something for the pain. We'll be keeping him overnight."
Wes entered the room. Mike lay there on the bed, his eyes closed, and his breathing labored. His lower lip was split, right where she had bit him earlier. An ugly indigo bruise marred his tan skin below his right eye, and there was a red, swollen bump on his jaw. Wes felt as if her heart was being squeezed in an iron vise, but she didn't cry. Instead, she sat next to the bed, and watched the slow rise and fall of his chest, worry etched on her face. She brushed the hair off his forehead, only to find a large bandage there. She sighed.
"Like, you gotta go.” Wes looked up to see young blonde in scrubs, carrying a small basin and a sponge. “I got a whole bunch more to do,” the woman added, holding up the sponge.
Both of Wes's parents had been nurses when she was growing up, so the young woman's lack of manners irritated her.
"Kelly,” Wes replied after squinting to see the woman's nametag, “I'm not leaving."
Kelly rolled her eyes and slammed the basin down on the bedside table.
"Whatever, do it yourself then,” she said before turning on her heels and leaving.
Wes resisted the urge to throw the basin at the girl's swinging ponytail. A few moments later, the Charge Nurse walked into the room.
"Excuse me, ma'am. I just received a complaint from one of my staff members. I'd like to know what happened."
"Well,” Wes answered, “my boyfriend's in a hospital bed, the last things I said to him were beyond ugly, and then the nursing assistant came in and tried to kick me out. I'm sorry if I upset her, but she was just rude."
The nurse put her hand on Wes's shoulder.
"I'm sorry about your boyfriend. I'm sure he'll be fine. And I'll take care of Kelly. I keep telling the girl to mind her bedside manner.” She walked to the door and stopped before exiting the room. “Oh, and there's an extra blanket in the closet.” She winked at Wes and closed the door behind her.
Weslie walked around the bed to the bedside table where the girls had left the basin. She picked up the basin and went to the small bathroom to fill it with warm water from the sink. When she returned, she placed it on the table again and lowered the sheet covering Mike. She reached for the sponge and soaked it in the warm water. She lifted the hospital gown and bathed him, starting at his collarbone. She swept the sponge across his chest, around his nipples, and down the hard plane of his stomach. She wet the sponge again, before turning her attention to his cock.
She wrapped the fingers of one hand gently around the tip. She slid the warm sponge along the length of his shaft, taking care not to apply too much pressure. When she reached the wrinkled skin at the base, she used her delicate fingers to support his balls while she dabbed them with the sponge. She'd expected his cock to flop back down and get in her way, but it did not; it was fully erect. It seemed the drugs hadn't numbed Mike to all sensation.
Looking at Mike's perfect cock still glistening from the sponge bath, precum beading at the tip, Wes felt compelled to have a taste. She leaned forward and flicked her tongue across his balls, before sucking one, and then the other into her mouth. She licked her way up the underside of the shaft. When she reached the tip, she twirled her tongue around it, before scooping up the precum from the center. Mike moaned from within his drug-induced haze.
Wes leaned further, until she could let his cock slip between her lips. She sucked on the head, enjoying the familiar taste and feel of his skin. She let her mouth sink until she could feel the tip of his cock tickling her throat. She moaned, and Mike made a sound somewhere between a whimper and a sigh.
She cradled his balls in her warm hand, fondling them as her tongue toyed with the swollen head in her mouth. With her other hand, she gripped his shaft, following the movement of her lips until she felt him twitch. Her mouth sank on his cock again, and just as it reached the tight opening of her throat, Mike came with a faint grunt. Wes struggled to swallow it all and held his cock in her mouth as it softened.
"The Charge Nurse told me to come in and apolo—” Kelly started as she burst into the room. Her eyes widened and fixed on the scene before her.
Wes looked up, Mike's cockhead still between her lips. A rivulet of cum dribbled out of the corner of her mouth and down to her chin. She couldn't help but chuckle at the girl standing there with her mouth agape. Wes let Mike's cock slip out of her mouth and licked her lips. She smiled at the nursing assistant.
Kelly rolled her eyes and harrumphed, before rushing out of the room.<
br />
* * * *
The next morning, Dr. Parsons walked in.
"Good morning, Ms. LaPlume. Why don't you go for a cup of coffee while I check up on Mr. Weiss?"
Weslie did not want to leave Mike's side, but she had barely managed two hours of sleep the previous night. Standing took some effort; her muscles were stiff and aching. She kissed Mike's forehead.
"I'll be right back,” she said before making her way to the cafeteria.
When Wes returned, Mike was dressed and sitting in a wheelchair. Dr. Parsons smiled at Wes.
"Ms. LaPlume, Mr. Weiss is healing well, so I don't see any reason to keep him here any longer. You can take him home. Make sure he gets plenty of rest."
"Thank you, Doctor."
"You're welcome. Now you should know we gave him an analgesic shot, so his jaw will be numb for a while. By the time it wears out, the pain should be minor, but he'll need to stick to soft foods for about a week. And I've written a prescription for acetaminophen which should help with remaining aches and pains. Call me if there is any problem. Oh, and get some rest too Ms. LaPlume. I hear you didn't sleep much last night"
The doctor shook Weslie's hand and left. Wes sighed in relief and took Mike's hand.
"Ready to go home, honey?"
Mike tried to answer, but all that came out was a garbled sound. Instead, he squeezed Wes's hand.
"Good,” Wes said as she walked around the chair to grab the handles. “Let's go then."
* * * *
Once they were back at the apartment, Wes helped Mike into bed. He could walk well enough, but with his bruised ribs Wes thought it best for him to lie down right away. She took a quick shower and threw on a t-shirt before rushing back to Mike's side, without bothering to towel herself off.
Wes sat next the bed and read to Mike. It wasn't long before Mike fell asleep, yet Wes did not want to step away from him, even for a moment. As she sat there, minutes, then hours drifting by, the near silence became unbearable. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep. The tick-tock of the clock was all she heard besides her lover's quiet breathing. She rested her chin on the bed.
"You know,” she said to Mike's sleeping form, “I'm really sorry I was so horrible yesterday. I'm so scared. When you look at me with so much love in your eyes, I can't breathe. I'm scared I don't deserve it. Every time we have sex and you are amazed at something we try, I wonder how long it will be before you throw my sexuality in my face. Before you ask how many there were before you. What if someday you want to go have your own experiences with other girls?"
Mike stirred. Wes looked up, but his eyes were still shut. Wes spoke faster and faster, as if the words she'd kept dammed were now rushing to come out. If she didn't get it all out now, her heart just might explode.
"Mike, do you know the first time you called me your girlfriend, I almost had a panic attack? You believe in romance, and fate, and happy endings, and I look at how imperfect and damaged I am, and I think: I can't be good for you. I—I'm scared I just can't live up to your idea of a girlfriend. I'm scared I'm not good enough for you."
She felt Mike's hand on her face. He lifted her chin, so that he could see her.
"We—Weslie,” he struggled, “you're ... more than good enough. You were ... perfect for me ... the day we met.” He tried to smile, but cringed at the slight pain. He lifted a corner of the blanket, inviting Wes to join him. “I love you ... as you are,” he said as she settled next to him, “I wouldn't ... change you ... for anything."
Wes kissed him. There were no words for what she felt. Mike reached under the hem of her shirt. He kneaded the soft familiar flesh and rolled her nipple between his fingers. He could feel his cock hardening as he listened to Wes's moans. He tried to roll on top of her. He winced. With his ribs as bruised as they were, there was no way he could support his weight above her.
"I'm sorry, honey,” he said, “It looks like I'm not—"
"Don't worry."
She got off the bed and rearranged the pillows so that Mike's back and shoulders were propped up comfortably. With him now sitting upright, Wes climbed back into bed and positioned herself between his legs. She placed his cock between her breasts and looked up at him as she worked the supple flesh up and down his cock. Each time the head came up, Wes flicked it with her tongue. Mike gasped.
"I'm so ready for you,” she breathed. She dipped two fingers between her legs. “See?” she asked as she held out her glistening digits. His pleasure made her so wet.
"Uh-huh,” was all Mike could manage as he inhaled the fragrant aroma. He sucked her fingers clean and licked his lips.
Wes straddled him so that his erection was at her opening. She sank down little by little; she was afraid sudden movements would be painful for him. When her swollen lips touched his pelvis, she sighed. She leaned forward, so that she could put her hands on the headboard and support her weight. She rotated her hips almost imperceptibly, looking out for any sign of discomfort on his face. She rocked her pelvis forward and back, the slow grind of her clit against him sending heat radiating through her body. This was different from the other times they'd had sex. She'd always seen love and sex as separate entities, and so over the last few months, she had often felt like she was fucking the man she loved. Now it seemed so clear: they were making love.
Mike came, groaning in pleasure. As his heartbeat slowed back to a normal pace, he gazed at his lover. An ecstatic smile graced her lips, and tears rolled from beneath her closed lids.
* * * *
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Undercover Lovers
© RaeLynn Blue & Shara Azod
[One]
As Juan closed the door, Lori heard the distinctive click of the lock sliding into place.
She looked up from her desk and found his round, dark eyes focused on her. She met his gaze. He looked away, but then returned to stare at her again. He removed his leather gloves, and cast them casually aside to his desk. The thick tan leather bomber seemed to highlight his caramel skin. The dark strands of hair, arrow straight, had been tied back into a ponytail, and across his chin, the spread of stubble blanketed it in equal darkness to the hair on his head. He kept his gaze upon her, and she couldn't stop checking him out. They'd been partners for three years and every time Juan Lopez reported to work, Lori would visually devour him, allowing her eyes to feast upon the man she would never, ever have in reality.
Whenever he was in uniform before they made detective, its deep midnight blue fabric seemed to set off his warm, bronze skin, turning him into a yummy confection of caramel arms, tight with muscles and rigid biceps, thick dark brown eyelashes like wafers, sweet cherry lips, droplets of maple brown eyes, and a sugar sweet smile.
Mining for her fantasies, she plucked pieces of him and filed them for later, when her horniness and loneliness won out over her self control. Then she would dive into full fantasy, dildo in hand and Juan Lopez front and center, cock hard and at the ready.
However, for the last month, she'd been locked up tight with him in an apartment overlooking a small deli. She couldn't take out her dildo here and scream and moan his name as she did at home in private. He'd wonder what the hell had gotten into her.
So Lori's sexual frustration levels were high. High and tight, ready for release. That's it. Yes, that's how she found herself on all fours last night, allowing Officer Lopez to ram his rigid member into her pussy over and over until she thought she'd faint. That's how she managed to lose her self control and cave into the partner she swore she'd never have sex with.
A complete bout of horniness. Had she been allowed to masturbate, she could've abated the ravaging yearnings she had for him without actually engaging him.
Now, things were all clustered up.
God, I so don't want to deal with this right now. Not right this minute. Couldn't he come in a little later than me? Just ten more minutes I would've been gone.
To her chagrin, she knew that sharing
an apartment with Officer Lopez meant being in the confined space with him for long stretches of time, hence the prolonged lack of masturbation time. Regardless, just because they were undercover as girlfriend and boyfriend, didn't mean they actually had to sleep in the same bed, let alone sex each other down.
But that's exactly what had happened last night.
Already the faint hairs on the back of Lori's neck stood up at the memory of their evening together, clutching each other's sweaty flesh, her lips whispering for more. Screw that, she was begging for it, for him, for Juan's thick, long phallus to be buried deep inside her, filling her up and making her sigh.
He coughed to break up the tense silence in the room.
"What?” she barked, angry at herself for giving in to him, and furious at him for taking her so completely that she couldn't think about anything else. “Don't start with me, Lopez. I haven't had my coffee, and it's too early."
She thought getting up at five a.m. would have allowed her some peace from his presence. There, too, she'd been mistaken.
"Nothing,” he said, voice bowling over her and leaving a residual sheen of sensual lust about her person. “I'm going downtown and wanted to grab a bite to eat first."
She allowed the long ropes of her micro braids to drape down like a curtain, shielding her face from him. Even now, her body craved him, but she knew that wasn't ever going to happen again. That roll in the hay had been for the job, for the cover, but that's it.
"I thought you'd be gone already,” Juan said, making small talk as he walked by her, heading toward the little L-shaped kitchen. He took off his bomber and hung it on the door hooks closest to the stove. He wore a long sleeved T-shirt and jeans, sneakers and socks. Lori already knew he wore boxer-briefs underneath and just how much support they had to supply for the log he carried around.
She took note of the tenor of his voice. Flat. Monotone, and devoid of any inflection. Yeah, he was hiding, too. Pretending it didn't happen at all. Well, if he could pretend they hadn't had sex, so could she.
Coming Together: At Last, Volume One Page 8