by M. L. Broome
I grab the sponge and soap, working across his skin with gentle strokes as he collapses on the built-in shower bench. Have to hand it to the architect, this bathroom is a thing of beauty with its three shower heads and Mediterranean-style tile. It’s also half the size of my last apartment, but that’s hardly a surprise.
Returning my gaze to the man in front of me, I offer up thanks to another architect, because when God designed Ryder Gray, he went all out. The man is the perfect male specimen.
With or without sight.
“Admit it, you feel better.”
“Being near you feels better. It’s been hell these last weeks without you, Gigi.” His voice is thick with emotion, the fear and loneliness he hid behind the stern facade bubbling to the surface.
“I was right here. As close as you’d let me.” Standing in between his legs, I work the shampoo across his scalp, earning a moan of approval.
“You don’t have to do this,” Ryder murmurs, but he makes no move to stop me.
“I’m your wife and I want to do it. I missed touching you. These past few weeks have been pretty damn lonely.”
“Tell me about it. What am I going to do?”
“Stop being mean to me, for a start.” My fingers work the muscles of his neck, trying to loosen the tension he’s been carrying since the accident upended his world.
“It broke me even more than not being able to see,” Ryder whispers, his voice laced with pain. “The idea that you didn’t want me anymore.”
“Let’s promise to stop making assumptions about each other since we’ve proven we’re terrible at it. I really suck at disliking you, Ryder, but I’m pretty damn good at loving you.”
“You’re amazing at loving me, even when I don’t deserve it. Thank you for the last week. I didn’t want you to go.”
“Could have fooled me,” I giggle, stealing a kiss from his full lips before returning to the task at hand.
But Ryder has other ideas as his hands drift up my back, his lips dusting kisses across my abdomen. When his tongue flicks against my breast, swirling around my nipple, I release a sated groan.
“You keep making those sexy sounds and I’m going to take you right here in the shower.”
“Promise?”
His teeth nibble along my tender skin before his head collapses against my stomach, his grip tightening around my body. “I love you, Gigi. Please don’t leave me.”
Straddling him, I tip his chin up, kissing away his doubts. “If I haven’t left by now, you’ll have to pry me from your side with a crowbar.”
Cupping my face, Ryder claims my mouth, his tongue tangling with mine in a provocative dance. But it isn’t hurried or rushed. He takes his time, exploring every inch and reclaiming what he thought he lost.
We pull back, our foreheads touching, our hearts once again one.
“I don’t want to sleep alone tonight. The nightmares—”
“No nightmares tonight. I’ll be right by your side.”
After washing away the physical and emotional remnants of the last week, we settle in the guest room, our exhaustion evident as we collapse on the bed.
Ryder pulls me tight to his side, his arms wrapped around me like a vise, his lips pressed against my hair.
For the first time since the accident stole his vision, he sleeps without incident. Every time the nightmares threaten, I curl closer to him, whispering words of love until he quiets.
Then, when he’s settled, I allow myself the same luxury, my eyes drifting closed as the blackness takes hold.
It’s dark outside when I blink my eyes open, pressing a kiss to Ryder’s chest as I glance at the bedside clock.
It’s after eight. No wonder my stomach is rumbling.
With a sigh, I run a hand over my abdomen, wondering how to tell Ryder the news. Wondering when to tell him the news.
Ryder stirs next to me, gliding his hand along my spine. “You’re really here.”
Snuggling against him, I tease his lips with my tongue, unable to keep the smile from my face. Despite everything, at least I’m back in his arms again.
I need to celebrate that fact.
My husband strokes his hands along my arms, his face unreadable.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” The nurse in me worries about his condition. After all, the man has a head injury and anything is possible, even weeks after the crash.
“Will you answer me honestly? Not tell me what I want to hear?”
“Don’t I always? I am the one who dumped a bucket of ice over you a few hours ago. Trust me, I always speak the truth.”
Ryder chuckles, tightening his grip. “Please don’t do that again.”
“No promises. What’s on your mind?” Part of me wonders if he might ask about the pregnancy, although there’s no way he could know. Until this afternoon, we barely spoke.
“Are you sure you’re not staying out of pity?” There’s no anger in his voice, just a hint of resignation regarding his current limitations.
So, to counteract that emotion, I toss sarcasm into the mix. Propping my chin on his chest, I skew up my mouth in a pout. “Are you sure you’re not still in love with Mandi?”
A harsh laugh breaks from Ryder’s mouth. “If you ask that question one more time—”
“Ditto.”
The energy changes then, the last of the walls we erected crumbling away. “I’ve only ever loved one woman. There’s you, Gigi, and then there’s everybody else.”
“You and those incredible one-liners, they get me every time. How in the world did little old me win Ryder Gray’s heart?”
“You’re seriously lucky?”
I snort out a laugh, giving his chest a light slap. “There’s the egomaniac I know and love. I knew he was in there somewhere.”
“Now, if I can only get my sight back…”
We need to stay positive. As a nurse practitioner, I know faith is half the battle. “What’s the first thing you’ll do when you regain your sight?”
“Stare at you.”
“Be serious.”
“Okay, fine. Stare at you while I’m balls deep inside you.”
“Much better. But, do we have to wait?”
“I’m sure you can convince me.” His hands slide along my sides, under the edge of my silk tank. “Tell me more.”
“Uh uh uh. I want you to tell me. What do you want me to do?” I slip off his shirt, my fingers gliding along Ryder’s firm chest, his muscles flexing under my palm.
“I wish I could see you.” The pain and fear have etched lines into his visage. But I won’t give them room to grow.
Not anymore.
“You don’t need to see me. Just feel me. Feel me touch you.” I trail kisses down the planes of his abdomen, smiling when his breath hitches. His entire body clenches in anticipation when I deliver a series of gentle nips along his hip. “Tell me what you want, Ryder. You’ll know I’ll give you anything.”
“I want your gorgeous lips around my cock.”
Ryder arches his hips, groaning as I wrap my fist around his length, stroking him. When I circle my tongue around the tip of his cock, he bucks against me, but I’m not caving to his whims. Not yet. I want to tease him. Push his limits until he’s desperate.
I spend the next few minutes driving him out of his mind, my tongue gliding along his shaft, until his hands knot in my hair, holding me in place. “Suck me.”
With a smile, I take him deep, earning a growl of pleasure as my mouth works him over. His fingers tighten their grip as his hips buck against me, both of us losing ourselves to the moment as I coax him closer to the edge.
“I need inside you. Now.” Pulling me up the length of his body, his fingers shove my g-string aside as he sinks inside me, a hum of satisfaction escaping us both. Ryder wraps his hands around my hips, bottoming out as he grinds against me. “Ride me, Gigi.”
I circle my hips slowly around his cock, whimpering as the feelings threaten to explode. He’s so deep inside me, his finge
rs bruising my hips as they hold me flush against him. “I want to feel you come, Ryder.”
“Ladies first.” Ryder flips me over, his thrusts strong and hard. “You’re amazing.”
“Tell me how I feel.”
He grunts, teetering on the brink of control. “You’re so wet. So tight.”
“What else?”
“The way you smell. It drives me mad. One whiff and all I can think about is being inside you. Taking you. Claiming you. Showing you who you belong to.”
Scratching my nails down his chest, I squeeze around him, earning another low moan. Twining my hand in his, I press my wedding band against his fingers. “I never took it off. I know who I belong to.”
That realization is enough to push my man over the edge, a shout breaking from his lips as he pours himself into me. His broad body collapses onto the mattress as our breathing returns to normal.
“Better?” I tease, tracing my fingers through his beard.
“So much better,” he concurs, as sleep catches hold again.
Lorna is thrilled Ryder and I have patched up our marriage, but her happiness is tempered by the fact that her son is still only able to see shadows, and it’s nearly six weeks since the crash.
The past several weeks have been a rollercoaster of emotions, with the highs of our playful banter dulled by the knowledge that Ryder may never regain his sight. The sadness cutting through his features eats at my soul.
The man was on top of the world. Now, we have to figure out how to get him back there again.
The doctor has started injections in a valiant effort to relieve the pressure, and Ryder is a trooper for each visit. My role never changes. I’m his constant companion and cheerleader, reassuring him that together we can conquer the world.
I think he’s finally starting to believe me, even if he’s brokenhearted by his disability.
I’m also having an increasingly tough time hiding my pregnancy, considering how often I lose my breakfast. And lunch. And dinner. At the rate I’m going, I’ll be skinnier than I was before I became pregnant.
There are moments I’m positive Ryder knows about the pregnancy, but he never asks, and I’m still garnering the courage to tell him. He’s been through so much, but I’m hopeful the news of our baby will bring some much needed joy to his world.
Ryder has made great strides toward his independence. It doesn’t hurt that he’s now allowing the therapists through the door, but we also moved downstairs, and being on the main level gives him access to the kitchen and pool area. Suffice it to say that his neighbors are now well aware of our voracious sexual appetites.
Not that it ever stops us.
I plop down onto the outdoor lounger, smiling when Ryder drops his head into my lap.
My husband snuggles closer, pressing a kiss to my stomach. “You make all this worth it, Gigi. This whole crazy ride. Losing my sight. My career. I’d have given up if it weren’t for you.”
“I wasn’t about to let you.”
“I have to face facts, though. This might be it for me. As good as it gets. Do you really want a blind guy long-term?”
“No, I don’t want some random blind guy. I want you.” Leaning over, I steal a kiss, earning a small smile. “But you will regain your sight. Do you think you’ll race again?”
My question is two-fold. I need him to stay positive and I’m also desperate to know his plans when—not if—he regains his vision.
“Screw racing. I don’t care if I ever race again. Would you be okay being married to a former F1 racer?”
“As long as he’s you. I just want you safe and happy, Ryder. That’s all that matters.” What I don’t mention is the relief flooding my body at his decision to leave the world of racing. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve stared at the trophies lining his shelves, the photos of his many podium finishes, and his talent is legendary. I’ll forever be proud of him and what he accomplished in thirty years.
I know his fans want him back. He’s a hero in the world of F1 racing, but I see his future through a different lens.
I almost lost him.
There’s no way I could go through that agony and uncertainty again.
And again.
“All that matters is me being able to see something. Anything. Your beautiful face. Our baby’s smile.”
I hold my breath at his words, certain he can feel my heart racing. This wasn’t the way I planned to break the news, but it’s a good segue. “Our baby?”
“Not that there will be any children now. Not with my condition.”
The bottom of my world falls out with his words. “You’ve always wanted kids, Ryder. I think we’d have beautiful children.”
A harsh bark of laughter sounds from his chest. “Kids I can’t see. I couldn’t do that to them, or to you. It’s bad enough you’re saddled with me, but a child, too? That’s a dream for another lifetime.” He squeezes my arm, his beautiful blue eyes staring off into space. “Looks like it’s just you and me for the long haul.”
Willing the tears away, I take slow and measured breaths. It’s easy to understand his stance—his world has been turned upside down and there might not be an easy fix. Hell, there might not be any fix for his vision. I get it. He doesn’t want to be a burden, and that’s all he feels like since the accident.
How do you tell someone they’re the light in your darkness when their world is literally without light?
“I hope you’ll change your mind one day, because I want children with you.”
“I love kids, Gigi, but that’s one path we can’t traverse. I need you to understand.”
My answer is most definitely no, but I let the situation lie. Ryder is already on edge about his future, the trepidation coursing through him like blood in his veins. Pulsing with its own life.
Pulsing like the life in my belly.
The life he doesn’t want.
The child he no longer desires.
What will happen when he learns the truth? Will he change his mind or push me away again?
Chapter 15
Ryder
Six weeks. It’s been forty-five days since the world went dark around me. Losing my sight was something I never considered. Sure, I read stories about people suffering from glaucoma or cataracts, but they were older. I’m in my prime.
My entire world hangs in the balance, dependent on these needles they’re now injecting into my eyeballs.
Let me tell you, I’ve always hated needles, but this is an entirely new level of hell. Still, if there’s a 0.00001% chance I might regain my sight, count me in.
Thank God for my Gigi. The woman is tireless, always at my side, showering me with love and positivity.
I know two things: Gigi is the greatest thing in my life and I don’t deserve her. Not that I’m ever letting her go. No chance in hell of that happening, particularly not after she put up with my ornery ass those first couple of weeks.
Talk about devotion.
The world still doesn’t know who Greer is. After the accident, the media focused solely on my injuries and my return to racing. When it would happen. If it would happen. Any digging into my recent nuptials fell by the wayside.
Then, as is the norm in the world of celebrity, the media moved on to new topics. I can’t say I blame them.
Now their sights are set on how our F1 team has yet to secure another podium finish. Fucking barracudas. Don’t they realize they’re working not only with new drivers but a new crew?
Yes, I’m protective of the team. It’s still my team.
Colton tries to keep me in the loop, but he’s a busy man with a racing empire to run. Me? I’m running out of options.
My wife informed me that Greg just completed a stint in rehab and seems like a changed man, but I’m not ready to speak to him. It doesn’t matter that Colton verified Greg tested clean, or that Greg wanted none of this to happen.
None of them wanted this to happen, but that’s not the point. Life as I knew it is over, and their haphazard ski
lls while nursing a hangover are at least partly to blame.
The real fear that creeps into my mind, the one that plagues me, is that Greer is only here out of pity. A morbid sense of obligation to stand by her man. She’s gorgeous and smart as a whip. She could have any guy she wants.
She didn’t sign up to marry a blind man, no matter what vows we said in Barbados. Hell, she never even got the chance to live the high life by my side. I planned to wine and dine her as we toured the circuit together, showing her the world.
Showing her off to the world.
Instead, she’s stuck here, day in and day out, catering to my needs. Not that she complains. She’s never once said a cross word, save for when she dumped the bucket of ice on me, and let’s be honest, I had that one coming.
She’s the epitome of the perfect wife, along with being the sexiest woman I’ve ever known. That I can grab her luscious curves anytime I want and sink inside her warmth is one hell of a wonderful concept. A concept I take full advantage daily.
I hear Greer dash out of the room, but I don’t ask. I know where she’s headed. She claims the stress is messing with her stomach, but I’m certain she’s lying.
Call it male intuition, but there have been changes in the way she smells and feels; changes so slight I’d never have noticed them if I could see, since her tits and ass would have stolen the show. But in my world of shadows, all my other senses have kicked into high gear.
Greer is pregnant. Not that she’s said a word to me.
I’m positive our conversation regarding children that one night is a large part of why she’s refusing to disclose her current condition, and I could kick myself for opening my big mouth. I was trying to ease her mind, assure her I don’t expect her to take on any additional burdens in our marriage. Instead, Gigi now thinks I don’t want a baby with her, but nothing could be further from the truth. If I had to choose between us having a child and regaining my sight, I’d choose the baby every time.
In fact, once my feeble brain realized she wasn’t nursing a stomach virus, the idea of her carrying my child re-energized my quest to find a cure for my condition. I have a goal now—to see my baby’s face when he’s born.