“In your state?! You fool.” She’s smiling and I feel the corners of my lips curl upwards.
“Maybe I am a fool. I had to see you, to make sure you were OK. Harper, I…” my voice catches in my throat. “I just want to say I’m so-“
“Stop.” She holds up a hand and comes closer. Taking a seat in the chair next to the bed, she reaches forward and places her hand over mine. The second her skin touches mine, a healing warmth fills me. My throat feels like it’s completely closed up. “How’s your chest? They told me you were stabbed.”
“It’s fine,” I lie. “How about you, are you OK? How’s the baby?”
Harper’s eyes shine bright for a second before she answers. “I’m fine. The baby is fine as well, they gave me a full checkup when I came in. I was lucky. Rosie is in bad shape. She’s stable now, they’re saying she’ll make a full recovery. It’s all my fault, for both of you! You never would have gotten hurt if you hadn’t been seeing me. Greg attacked her with a knife and -“
Her voice catches and the tears fall down her cheeks. I grab her hand in mine and give it a squeeze. I notice the red marks on her wrists and brush them lightly.
“What’s this?” I whisper. Harper pulls her hand away and pulls her sleeve down before brushing her tears away.
“Nothing.”
“Harper..”
We stare at each other in silence until I clear my throat. “None of this is your fault, you hear me? No one could have predicted it.”
I don’t know what to say. I don’t know where to start or how to explain how I feel. How can I put it into words? How can I tell her that she means the world to me and that I’d let myself get stabbed a million times if it meant she and our baby were safe and healthy. How can I tell her that the past couple days have been torture, not only because of Greg Chesney but because I wasn’t with her, because I let her down?
I turn the wheelchair towards her and put both my hands on her knees. Finally I build up the courage to say the only thing that even comes close to describing how I feel. It comes out as a barely audible whisper as I force myself to look into her shining eyes.
“I love you.”
Harper says nothing, but the tears start streaming down her cheeks again. My heart starts thumping and I reach up to brush them away.
“It’s true, Harper. I love you. I’m sorry I was an ass. I want to be with you and I want to have this baby.”
I can’t say anything else because Harper’s lips are on mine. She flies into my arms and my chest explodes, but the pain is like background noise. The only thing that matters is Harper’s kiss, her touch, her body. I tangle my fingers into her hair and pull her in. This kiss is more than just a kiss. It’s the end of everything that’s been going on between us since that doctor’s appointment. It’s everything I’ve been too scared to say, everything I’ve been too scared to feel.
Harper wraps her arms around my neck and sits down on my lap. I wrap my arms around her and pull her in closer, breathing in deeply to inhale her scent. I pull my head back.
“I was so worried about you. It was killing me to be stuck here.”
“I didn’t think of you at all,” she replies with a grin before leaning over and kissing me softly. She pulls her lips away and rests her forehead against mine. “I thought of you constantly ever since you dropped me off. Zach,” she hesitates and then takes a deep breath. “I love you too.”
It might have taken a few minutes for her to say it back to me but it doesn’t matter. As soon as the words leave my lips I feel like I’m floating. The pain leaves my body and I run my fingers along her jaw to pull her in for another kiss.
Nothing else matters. Nothing matters except Harper and our child. I slide my hand down and place it over her stomach. She interlaces her fingers over mine and pulls her head back, smiling at me. We both look down at our hands and then back at each other’s eyes. Her green eyes look like the emeralds I’ve been picturing all day. There’s nothing in them except relief, happiness, and love.
Chapter 45 - Harper
“Is this the invalid party room?” Rosie says as I wheel Zach into her room. “Who else do we know that’s been stabbed?”
I laugh. “Something like that. Does that mean I’m not invited?”
“I’ll make an exception for you this time,” Rosie says. I smile as I push Zach over and pull up a chair beside her. Rosie looks worn out. There are dark circles under her eyes and she’s got a tube of oxygen in her nose. There’s an IV dripping clear liquid into her hand.
“How are you feeling?” I know it’s a silly question, but I can’t think of anything else to say.
“Awful,” Rosie says with a grimace. “But I’ll live.”
“This is all my fault. I’m sorry.”
Both Rosie and Zach make a noise in protest. Zach puts a hand over my arm and Rosie squeezes my hand.
“You did nothing wrong, Harps,” Rosie says. “We knew he was deranged.”
“If anything, it’s my fault,” Zach says slowly. I turn my head and see the pain in his eyes. “I didn’t bother to know what was going on in my own company. I should have known what was happening a year ago, I never would have let it go on like it did. I should have been there with you when he showed up. I’m sorry.”
“Will both of you stop it,” Rosie says with an exaggerated sigh. “It’s nobody’s fault except Greg’s. Did you come to my house and stab my six times?” She looks at me. “No? How about you? Did you do it?” She looks at Zach. “Right. That’s what I thought. It was Greg Fucking Chesney. Now both of you need to stop beating yourselves up. We’re all here, we’re alive, and the baby is ok. That’s all that matters.”
Rosie lies back in bed and closes her eyes for a minute as if to say, that’s the end of that discussion.
“Maybe you’re right,” I respond. She snorts. “Still, I wish you hadn’t been stabbed.”
Rosie grins, her eyes still closed. “At least I get to enjoy the best that the hospital cafeteria has to offer. And I’ll have some cool scars.”
I glance at Zach and he nods. I take a deep breath. For some reason I’m more nervous about this than I thought I would be.
“Rosie,” I start. She makes a noise but doesn’t open her eyes. “Zach and I were talking and…” I hesitate. “Will you be the baby’s godmother? You’re my best friend and you’ve always been there for me. I’d love it if you were part of my - our - kid’s life as well.”
Rosie finally opens her eyes and turns her head. They’re misty and wet and she smiles weakly. “Of course,” she whispers. “I’d be honoured.”
Warmth floods through my chest I reach over and hold Rosie’s hand. Zach puts his arm around my shoulders and the three of us sit there in silence. A peacefulness settles over us as we share a quiet moment. Rosie breaks the silence.
“Your kid better not be a little shit. If it’s annoying you’re going to hear about it.”
“I never knew you were so nurturing, Rosie,” Zach quips.
I laugh. “She’s definitely got the Mother Hen gene.”
Rosie smiles and shrugs. “I’m just telling it like it is.”
We spend a few more minutes talking about nothing and everything, talking about anything except what we’ve just been through. I watch as both Rosie and Zach wince whenever they move and it’s as is I can feel their pain in my own body. The two people I love the most have been hurt because of me. No matter how much they tell me it wasn’t my fault I still feel responsible.
I fiddle with my grandmother’s ring, turning it around and back on my finger. This is the ring that enraged Greg. The ring that made him stab Zach, the ring that was proof in his eyes of my connection to him. Now I know that he took it from my office, he used it to threaten Zach. He took it off my finger when I was unconscious and used it as a threat again, as proof of our indiscretions.
Zach slips his hand into mine and stops me fidgeting with the ring. I glance at him and he smiles s
adly. He knows what I’m thinking, I don’t need any words to know it. Rosie clears her throat.
“Alright, lovebirds. I’m getting tired and the nurse will be here soon to change my bandages. Party’s over, I’m afraid.”
I smile and lean over to give her a one-armed hug. She pats my back gently.
“I’ll be back tomorrow, ok Rosie?”
“Just take care of yourself and the kid,” she says. She smiles and I see once again the kindness and strength that makes her who she is.
I push the wheelchair out the door and down the hallway. Zach reaches his hand up towards me and interlaces his fingers with mine. Even that simple touch calms me down. We’re passed words, passed explanations. We both know that I’m his, and he’s mine.
Epilogue - Harper
Four months later…
“Zach! Zach give me your hand!” I reach over in bed as Zach grunts, just barely awake. “Come on give me your hand!”
I grab his palm and place it over my stomach. My skin is warmer than his and the touch is refreshing. After a few seconds, Zach sits up and looks at me, wide-eyed.
“Was that a kick?!”
“Yes! It just woke me up!”
Zach’s eyes are still as big as saucers. He glances from my face to my stomach, moving his hand around gently. “Wow,” he breathes.
The giggles burst out of me. “It’s kicking! That’s such a weird feeling.”
“It’s kicking so much! It has to be a boy!”
I roll my eyes. “It doesn’t mean anything. And I know you, your heart would melt if you had a little girl.”
“I don’t care what it is,” he says as he runs his hand up my body, cupping my breast and dipping his chin towards me. “As long as it’s healthy and you’re healthy it doesn’t matter what it is.”
I smile as his lips touch mine. My happiness is complete. I’ve finally moved the last of my things into his apartment and we’re having our first lazy Sunday morning in bed together in our apartment. I run my fingers over the scar on his chest and he shivers. He puts his hand over mine and we lay there, our hands over his heart, over his scar. I can feel his heart beating and I lean into him.
“Getting stabbed was the best thing that ever happened to me,” he says. “Now I have this as a reminder of what I almost lost.” Zach lifts his head up and strokes the side of my face. “I love you.”
“I love you too. I wish you didn’t get stabbed though,” I grin. “There’s lots of less painful reminders that I’m the best.”
He smiles and then chuckles and my heart melts. I’ve never felt the kind of bursting feeling in my chest before. It’s like I’m so full of love and happiness that I’m coming apart at the seams, like my body can’t contain the sheer emotion that fills me up.
Zach runs his hand over my chest and down my arm. He spreads my hand and slides his fingers in between mine. His lips find mine and they fuse together. I’ll never get sick of kissing him.
He grips my hand a little bit tighter and then pulls away, looking down at our interlocked fingers. He turns my hand around and watches as my grandmother’s old ring glints in the morning light.
“You only ever wear that one ring.”
“Yeah,” I reply. “I’ve always worn it.”
“Would you ever consider wearing another one?”
I frown and my heart starts beating a little bit faster. Is he saying what I think he’s saying…?
“I mean… I guess?”
Zach grins. “What I mean is, if I gave you a ring would you wear it?”
“Are you asking me to marry you?”
“Would you say yes if I was?”
I laugh. “What is this, Sunday morning riddles? What are you saying, Zach? Spit it out.”
“I’m saying marry me.”
I can feel my eyes crinkling as the smile breaks my face open. If I felt like happiness was bursting through my chest before, I had no idea what I was in for. It feels like I’m about to float away, and the only thing holding me down is the weight of Zach’s body over mine. My vision goes blurry as the tears of joy flood my eyes. All I can do is nod.
“Yes,” I croak.
Zach’s kiss is more ardent than ever before. Suddenly his lips are on mine, his hands are over my body. He strokes my stomach gently and then runs his fingers down over my mound to my aching centre. I wrap my arms around him and my legs fall open as his hand inches closer.
Every night we spend together is better than the last. Every touch is more intimate, every kiss is more passionate. I’ve never been this happy. That feeling reaches a new peak this morning. It feels like I’m vibrating with love, with emotion, with passion. I let myself be taken away by it, letting my hands sink into his flesh and my lips explore his body.
Our bodies start an intricate dance that only instinct can explain. His movements are my movements, his touch is electrifying and comforting and exciting and intoxicating all at once. My body spasms and contracts and his does the same. My hands roam over his skin, hungrily touching every single inch of him. I can’t get enough.
We grab and grope and touch and moan as we let ourselves be carried away. It’s passion on another level. I throw my head back and listen to myself moan and say his name over and over. Zach, Zach, Zach.
I’m panting, he’s groaning, I’m moaning, he’s grunting. The sounds of our passion fill the room. I’m riding an indescribable high. His hands are everywhere, our bodies are fused together until finally we both fly over the edge together. I grab onto him and he grabs onto me and we don’t let go until our heartbeat has gone back to normal. Even then, our legs stay intertwined and our arms are thrown over each other. My lips are near his and our breath mixes as we recover.
“I love you,” I whisper.
“I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you,” he replies. He kisses the tip of my nose and I close my eyes. The baby kicks and Zach makes a noise.
“We love you too,” he says, sliding his hand over my growing bump. His words send another shiver down my spine and I nuzzle my chin into his chest. Zach wraps his arms around me and I sigh contentedly.
I’ve moved into a new house and I’ve found a home, a husband, a family. I smile as I think of the doctor who told us we were pregnant. Miracle baby, he’d said. I’m starting to think he was right.
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Doctor ‘O’:
A Modern Romance
Lilian Monroe
(Twitter: @Lily_Author
Facebook: @MonroeRomance)
Copyright Ⓒ 2017 All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the author except for short quotations used for the purpose of reviews.
Chapter 1 - Valerie
I’m lying in bed staring at the ceiling for the thousandth time. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to focus on my hand as it moves down and over my mound, savouring the electric warmth that ripples with every movement of my fingers. I concentrate hard, trying to think of something sexy. Abs, or… muscles. Hands gripping me. The touch of a man’s tongue over me. Umm… throbbing… members?
There’s a warmth growing inside me and I move my fingers faster, travelling up and down between my lips. My brow furrows as my fingers move faster, circling around my clit with more intensity. I’
m holding my breath.
It’s going to happen, I can feel it. I’m going to feel the shockwaves course through my body and the anticipation is making my heart hammer in my chest. I concentrate harder, moving my hand faster with the excitement.
And then all of a sudden, nothing.
It’s gone. My orgasm slips away into oblivion, just like it does every single other time I’ve ever tried. I sigh.
This isn’t going to happen. Not this time, not ever.
I let my hand fall to my side and open my eyes back up, looking up at the ceiling again. Every single time I feel something, anything close to an orgasm it somehow escapes me. Maybe I’m thinking too hard, or I don’t know how to touch myself properly.
It’s even worse when someone else tries to give me one. I tense up or think too much about what I’m doing or what I look like or what they’re thinking.
Even when I am able to relax into the moment somehow it always seems to slip away at the last second. I can be completely in the mood and excited but for some reason I’ve just never gone over the edge. I’ve never felt the fireworks that everyone describes. The back arching, leg shaking, head melting feeling of pure, unadulterated pleasure.
Not once, and it kills me.
My ex boyfriend gave up trying in the end. He’d play with me until I was wet enough for him to enter me and then take his own orgasm without any worry about my own pleasure. I broke it off with him three months ago and since then, like every month and year before that, I’ve been unable to get myself off.
When I broke it off with my ex, my best friend Emma was there to pick up the pieces. We were out at our local cocktail lounge and I’d had two or three glasses of wine, just enough to be a bit giddy. I remember looking at her and blurting it out:
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