“Probably after dinner,” he tells me, a smirk pulling at the edges of his lips.
“Okay,” I say, blowing out a breath. I know that he knows exactly why I’m asking, and I know he’s thinking the same damn thing. “I might have a surprise for you later,” I say, smiling as sweetly as I can up at him.
“Do tell,” he says, dropping back down to my level.
“If I told you then it wouldn’t be a surprise,” I say, poking him in the chest.
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Did you give much thought while I was gone to my question about London in June?” he asks, changing the subject as his parents come back inside with another load of luggage.
“I have, and as long as I can get the time off approved, I’d love to go.”
“Good, I was hoping you’d say that, and if you hadn’t, I was ready to convince you to change your mind.”
“Is that so? And what do you think it would take to convince me to change my mind?” I ask.
“I have my ways,” he says, nipping at my neck. “I’d wait until you were just on the edge of coming all over my tongue or cock, and hold off letting you come until you agreed to go with me.”
“Drew!” I practically shout his name just as he covers my mouth with his own, swallowing my words as he does.
“Yes?” he asks, a devilish smirk on his face when he pulls back.
“You can’t talk like that, especially with your parents coming in and out of the house.”
“You know, all you’ve been thinking about today is my cock,” he says, pushing the boundaries. He smirks even harder when he sees me rub my thighs together, attempting to find some friction as his words go straight to my core. If he slipped his fingers into my panties right now, he’d find me wet and ready for him.
“That’s beside the point. I can’t see or touch it right now, so there’s no sense in punishing myself by constantly thinking about it until I can see and touch it.”
“Ready for dinner?” Drew calls out to his parents when they come back in, and I just have to laugh at his brashness.
“Um. I guess,” his mom says, looking down at her watch. “It’s kind of early, isn’t it?”
“What are we, trying to hit the senior hour?” his dad jokes. “It’s only ten to five,” he adds.
“Sorry, I’m starving and a little tired, and am about seven hours ahead of all of you.”
“Oh, of course,” his mom says. “Let’s go then.”
I transfer from the couch to my chair, grabbing my purse and coat before we make it out to my car. “Meet you guys at the restaurant,” Drew calls out to his parents as he slides into the passenger seat next to me.
“I can’t wait to get you home,” Drew says once the doors are closed. His hand finds my thigh and starts rubbing circles.
“If you have any hope of us making it to the restaurant and back without me wrecking, you’d better keep that hand still. You’re going to make me crash if you aren’t careful.”
“Sorry.” He grimaces as he stills his hand. “I just can’t keep from touching you. I’ve missed you,” he tells me again.
“I know, but we’ll be all alone soon. We survived six weeks apart, I think we can handle dinner with your parents.”
“Maybe,” he groans.
“SO, you said something about a surprise for me?” Drew says once we’re back at his place after dinner with his parents. He filled us in on a lot that happened while he was gone. The large number of patients they treated for so many different things. He performed a few surgeries while gone, but most of the trip was treating minor ailments and such.
“Mhmmm,” I hum in agreement. “Have you been good?” I ask jokingly.
“The best,” he says, holding up a hand with three fingers extended, “Scout’s Honor.”
“I’m sure,” I tease him. “Your surprise is on my body. You’ll have to find it,” I tell him. While he was gone, I might have gone shopping for some new sexy things that I thought he might like. It was the first time I’d ever ventured into those parts of the stores. I’ve been more of a practical bra and panty kind of girl. Comfort has always been the most important thing to me.
“Mhmm, I like the sound of that,” he says, reaching down and scooping me from my chair. I wrap an arm around his neck, to help hold on, while he carries me into the bedroom. He sets me down on the bed, boxing me in as he looks at me with a hungry gaze. Like I’m his next meal. A shiver rolls through my body as I think of all the delicious things he can do to me.
I tug at his shirt, pulling him back down to me, and kiss his lips. He nips at my bottom one, then soothes it with his tongue. “Tell me, do you want slow and sensual or fast and hard?”
“What if I wanted both? Fast and hard, followed by slow and sensual?”
“I’d say strip,” he says, serious as can be. I reach for the hem of my shirt and pull it up and over my head. He stands back, giving me room to work, and I hear the intake of his breath when he sees the lace that was underneath the shirt. He helps me tug at my leggings, getting them over my hips and down my legs. He tosses them over his shoulder, not paying attention to where they land as he takes in the vision in front of him.
“You like?” I ask, breaking the silence.
“No,” he says, shaking his head.
“Oh,” I say, disappointment lacing my voice as I go to try and cover my body.
“Fuck, that came out wrong. I don’t like it, I fucking love it,” he says, pulling my hands from my body.
I stop my movements and smile up at him. “You sure?” I ask, still a little self-conscious about being in front of him like this.
“Positive,” he says, dropping his lips to the top of my breasts. He kisses along the lace edge from one, to the valley between, and up the other. “I,” he says, against my skin, “love it,” more kisses along my exposed torso, “so much,” he swirls his tongue around my belly button, causing my back to arch. “Almost as much,” he continues to talk into my skin as he makes his way lower, tugging the edge of my panties at my hip slightly with his teeth, moving it lower so he can place a kiss right there, “as I love you.” Wait, what, did he just tell me he loves me?
“What?” I cry out when his mouth covers my center over the lace. The friction that the barrier causes, mixed with the heat of his mouth and how sex deprived I’ve become while he was gone, has me about to come. His finger slides the small amount of lace to the side, exposing my center to him, and he sucks my clit between his lips as he sinks two fingers inside me. I immediately explode on his fingers, my body clenching them tightly as I come unglued. I ride the wave, not only from my orgasm but from what it feels like to hear that he loves me.
I feel his fingers slip from my body and then the lace being pulled back into place as he rights my panties.
“You could just take them off, you know,” I say, not ready to address the declaration he dropped.
“I know, and I will,” he says as he moves back up my body after dropping his own clothes. “How was that to start out with?” he asks, dropping a light kiss on my lips.
“Perfect,” I sigh.
“Good,” he says, chuckling at me. “I meant what I said, I love you, Megan.”
“I love you, too, Drew,” I tell him honestly, grinning.
“Fuck yes, you do,” he says, scooping me up and rolling me on top of him. I adjust my legs so I can comfortably straddle him. His hands skim up and down my thighs, sending goose bumps along the skin and a shiver down my back. “I was dreaming on my flight home about you, new places I want to make love to you.”
“Is that so?” I ask, looking down at him. My hands are flat against his chest as I stabilize myself on him.
“How much do you trust me?” he asks, a seriousness coming through his question.
“Completely, why?”
“Because I want to try something, but I have to know that you’ll trust me completely to keep you safe and supported. You know I’d never do anything to hurt you, but you can al
ways tell me no,” he states seriously.
“I trust you,” I assure him.
“Okay.” He pulls me down, until my lips are just above his own. “I love you so damn much. I’ve waited so long to tell you that, but this time away has made me realize that I need to not hold back any longer. I don’t ever want you to wonder if I love you or what you mean to me. You’re mine,” he says before sealing his lips over mine. He continues to kiss me as his hands roam my body, only stopping when I hear what sounds like the tearing of fabric. I look down to see that he’s ripped the lace panties clear off my body. He holds his cock in his hand and lines it up, and thrusts inside of me, filling me to the brink. I moan out loudly as I stretch around his cock.
“Drew!” I call out his name as he continues to thrust up with everything he’s got. This isn’t a position we’ve tried often, as he still has to do most of the work. One thing my disability hinders is my ability to take control during sex. I just don’t have the muscle strength to do much.
“Come for me, baby,” he grits out as I feel his cock swell inside me before he thrusts one last time, my name on his lips. I collapse forward, resting my entire upper body on his. Never worried that I’m crushing him with my weight.
“Is that what you’d dreamed of doing on your flight home?” I ask a few minutes later.
“Nope, I dreamed of fucking you in the shower against the wall,” he says as I slide off of him and onto the bed next to him, curling myself into his side.
“Hmm. That sounds fun,” I tell him in my sleepy state. “Maybe tomorrow.”
“Maybe,” he agrees. “I think I’m officially welcomed home and can sleep now,” he says as he starts to drift off.
“Go take care of the condom before you fall asleep,” I tell him, pushing him on the chest.
He bolts upright, looking at his lap and to me. “Shit,” he says, “we forgot a condom. I’m so sorry.”
“Drew,” I say, tugging on his arm. “It’s okay. You know I’m on birth control. We’re good, and if we’re not, then we deal with that together.”
“You’re sure?” he asks, cupping my cheek.
“I am. Is right now the best time for a baby? Probably not. But if that’s what life threw at us, I’m sure we’d make it work.”
“Okay,” he says, calming down as he rests his forehead against mine after he places a kiss against the exact same spot. “That must be why it felt so good, so different,” he says a moment later.
“Maybe,” I agree with him. “Can you carry me into the bathroom please?” I ask, since he carried me into the room and my chair is still out in the living room.
“Of course,” he says, getting up and walking around to my side to pick me up. He deposits me into the bathroom and then exits to go get my chair. By the time he returns, I’ve finished up in here and am ready to head to bed.
After I exit the bathroom, I hear the water turn on and Drew stepping into the shower. I pull on some panties, followed by a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top, then slide into bed and pull out my Kindle to read while he’s showering and getting himself ready for bed. It’s earlier than I’d normally go to bed, but I’m feeling exhausted after our time together and just want to be with him, as close to him as I can be after he’s been gone for so long. So when he returns to bed ten or so minutes later, I slide right into his side where he curls around me and promptly passes out. I read for a while longer before finally tucking my Kindle away and allowing sleep to claim me. Work calls in the morning, so I might as well get a good night’s sleep under my belt before then.
19
DREW
JUNE
“TO THE BRIDE AND GROOM!” another family member of Simon’s calls out as everyone toasts the newly married couple, and we all raise our glasses of champagne.
“Here, here!” everyone replies as we all take drinks of said champagne.
“It was such a romantic ceremony,” Megan says to me as we wait to be served our dinner at the reception.
“It was. The girls sure stole the show when they came down the aisle with Brendan,” I muse, thinking of Simon and Bridget’s twin girls, who are a little over a year old. Brendan pulled them in a wagon, as they’re both still a little wobbly on their feet.
“They were the cutest!” she agrees. “I can’t believe how big they’ve gotten since they came for dinner before your Rwanda trip.”
“That was months ago, babe,” I point out.
“I know, but they’ve grown so much since then. We’ll have to have them over again once we’re all back home and things have settled down.”
Home. Just before we left for our trip, I brought up the idea to Megan of her moving into my place. Of making my house a home for the two of us. She was apprehensive, at first, but then realized that she’s basically at my house all the time anyways, so what’s the point of her continuing to pay rent on her apartment when I already own my house. I still haven’t brought up the idea to her that I sell my house and build one that is fully handicap accessible, I have to tackle one thing at a time with her. The next will be convincing her to say yes when I propose to her in a few days, when we head to Paris before returning home. I had a nice conversation with her parents one afternoon over FaceTime that she has no idea even took place. I needed to know that her parents approved of us and would give me permission to marry their daughter. That she’s the most important person in my life and that I’d move heaven and earth for her. She also doesn’t know that I’m flying them out to visit us a few weeks after we fly back home. Figured they could come to town and meet my family, and we can hopefully plan an engagement party for their visit.
“What’s got you thinking so seriously?” she asks, nudging me in the ribs with her elbow.
“Oh nothing, just spacing out. Time zones just catching up to me and all.”
“Mhmm,” she hums. “Okay, as long as nothing is wrong,” she questions, flashing me a small private smile.
“I promise, nothing is wrong,” I tell her, cupping her face and kissing her lightly.
“Okay,” she says, accepting my answer. The only thing I’m worried about right now is her not accepting my proposal. I know that isn’t rational. We’ve—I’ve—gotten past all my reservations about being enough for her, and I’ve worked through my issues of sometimes having to put work first.
We more than enjoy ourselves at Simon and Bridget’s wedding. Dancing as well as one can dance when your partner is wheelchair dependent.
“Do you remember the night I got back from Rwanda and I asked you if you trusted me?”
“Of course, why?”
“Because I want you to trust me again tonight,” I say quietly, just loud enough that she can hear me as I lean into her personal space. Most of our table mates are out mingling around the reception, or out on the dance floor.
“Okay,” she says, confidant in her ability to trust me, knowing that I’d never do anything to hurt her.
I hit the button on her chair to back her away from the table enough so that I can scoop her up into my arms. “What are we doing?” she asks, a little skeptical.
“We’re going to dance, you in my arms, where you belong,” I tell her, kissing her once again. I walk us out onto the dance floor, Megan securely in my arms, bridal style, like I’ve carried her many times. While it isn’t a traditional way one might dance, it is the most secure way to do so. I spin us around the dance floor, our bodies pressed together, and listen to Megan’s laughter as we do so. I can only imagine what it must be like for her to experience something like this without being confined to her chair. I know she doesn’t ever feel like her chair is a hindrance, quite the opposite, in fact. She once told me that her chair gives her freedom, it doesn’t take it away.
“What are you thinking?” I ask when the music quiets, as the band transitions between songs.
“That was so much fun! Thank you,” she says, tugging my head forward until her lips land on mine. I stand still in the middle of the dance floor, soaking in he
r kiss as everyone around us starts to sway to the slow song the band starts up.
“Bloody hell, get a room, mate,” Simon says as he stops next to us.
“Like you can talk,” I bark back at him. He hasn’t been able to keep his hands off his wife all day, granted, it is his wedding day and that is to be expected.
“Today has been incredible,” Megan says to Simon and Bridget.
“Thank you! It was everything I could have wanted and more,” Bridget tells her.
“Your girls were just precious coming down the aisle in the wagon. I think they stole the show!” Megan says.
“They sure did,” Simon pipes in. “Well, have fun! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” he calls out as he whisks his wife away.
“That doesn’t leave much!” I call out to his retreating back, and he flips me the bird over his shoulder. “I saw that,” I holler out and see him laughing as Bridget smacks the back of his head.
“GOOD MORNING, BEAUTIFUL,” I wake up Megan, quietly, as I kiss along her jaw, down her neck.
“Hmmmm, morning,” she sleepily moans as I work my way lower down her body. We stayed at the reception last night until the wee hours of the morning, dancing and talking our way through the night. We both fell into bed, exhausted, and promptly passed out. We’ve got a tour to attend today, and then tomorrow will be taking the train to Paris for a few days.
“We have to get up,” I remind Megan as I force myself to stop kissing her exposed skin. If I don’t, we won’t make our tour time and I know it’s one that she’s really been looking forward to.
“Ugh. But it’s so warm and comfortable in bed,” she says as she starts to stretch. “And I was enjoying your lips on me.”
“I’m sure you were,” I bark out in a laugh. If there’s anything we’ve learned this year, it’s to be honest with each other. Our ability to be open with each other and communicate without any hesitation is what’s built our strong connection and relationship. “How about I promise to pick up and continue where I left off when we get back tonight?”
“I’ll hold you to it,” she says, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed as she sits up. I watch as her muscles flex as she lifts her arms high above her head, stretching out her back and upper body. “Quit staring at me,” she chides.
Cocky Doc: A Hero Club Novel Page 16