CHAPTER TEN
Jasmeen
I was so thankful when I heard Lance calling through the house, I nearly left Gavin in the backyard.
He had a sheen to his eyes, like he was planning and plotting, only I didn’t want to know what he came up with.
“But that doesn’t mean I like you,” I rushed to say. “Like and love aren’t the same thing, Gavin. I stopped liking you a long time ago. I can barely stand you.”
His face fell a little, but I watched him fight to maintain whatever illusion he’d deluded himself into thinking moments ago. “Let’s go see what Lance brought. And then maybe you can help me figure out how to shower? I smell like pits and balls.”
I took hold of his wheelchair and pushed him through the back patio. “No way am I giving you a sponge bath,” I muttered under my breath.
He chuckled. “Nurse Jasmeen. Fuck, that’s sexy.”
“I guess I can take your temperature. Anally.”
He stiffened. “On second thought, I’ll manage on my own.”
“Mhm. Thought so.” I spotted Lance in the front foyer unloading multiple bags. Clothes and food spilled out. “Do you need help?” I asked Lance.
“No, I’ve got it,” he assured me.
“I’ll just get an outfit for Gavin.” I bent, sifting through the bags. I saw a pack of boxer briefs, and could only imagine how good he’d look in them, but getting them on would be a pain. I kept searching until I found a pair of loose black shorts and a new similar colored hoodie. It was larger than his normal size and would fit over his cast. Lance was also bringing in my luggage. “Thank you, Lance.”
He smiled sweetly. “It’s no problem. Which room is yours?”
“There’s two master’s on the south end. Mine’s overlooking the woods.”
He moved past me, towing my bag after him.
“Put my things in the same room, Lance,” Gavin called.
“Sir,” Lance agreed.
“What are you doing?” I demanded once we were alone.
“Come on, Jas. We can’t sleep on the other side of the house. What if I need you in the middle of the night? Am I supposed to telepathically communicate with you?”
A shudder rippled through me. “Could you imagine if you could?”
His lips rose into a knowing grin. “Something tells me that you wouldn’t mind the direction of my thoughts right about now.” His eyes trailed over my body, from my head to my toes, and he didn’t stop either. He did it twice. Studying my face the longest. The longer he looked, the more he dropped the cocky edge to his expression. The more he looked like my Gavin.
He’d had a way of looking at me that made me feel like I was more than what I was. I knew I should be more on my own, I knew I should be every single thing I needed. But knowing and doing rarely relied on the same things. To know was to understand, but to do was to want it. And maybe deep down I relied on Gavin as much as he relied on me now. Only when I left him this time, he’d be better.
I’d be worse.
“That the same something that said I wouldn’t mind you cheating on me too?” I grabbed his chair and pushed him roughly through the house.
He didn’t reply, which was probably one of the smartest things he’d ever done.
Against my better judgement, I wheeled him to the bedroom I’d picked earlier, crossing Lance’s path in the process. He glanced at me fleetingly and nodded at his boss. It was weird to think that Gavin was responsible for so many people’s jobs. There was a bathroom attached to the room ten times bigger than my own. It was beige, pink, and taupe marble, with glimmering glass and far too many sinks for two people.
“I wonder who built this place.”
“Someone lonely,” he responded, taking in the bathroom the same way I did.
“Lonely? But it has so much space.”
“Exactly.” He ran his fingers over the counter, catching my gaze in the mirror.
I hated how deep his eyes were, how they’d looked like the most delicious bowls of butterscotch in that bathroom. The colors even put a tan to his pale skin. “What do you mean?” I wondered.
He looked away. “As soon as I walked into that place, I could imagine it full of people. Family, friends, parents, her parents, kids—overflowing with love. It won’t happen. I never had that in my life. It’s just a fantasy. But I liked the image of it. I bought it a year ago, and the most I’ve had in it is the occasional one-night stand when I had downtime in New York.”
I ignored his one-night stand comment. He wasn’t mine anymore. “Her?”
“Whoever I married, I guess.”
“I know you always wanted a family.” I placed my hands on his shoulders hesitantly, squeezing him there. His mother lost custody of him when he was four for drug possession, and she’d eventually ended up disappearing into that dangerous life, and he’d never known his father. Being in the system hardly gave him a chance to know family. Mine was the only family he knew, and we were a mess ourselves. “You’ll have one, I promise. Four kids, two boys, two girls. They’ll all look like you. And act like you. And love you.” I tightened my hold on his shoulders and fought the urge to kiss away the sad frown wrinkling between his brows.
“Can’t see it anymore, so I just don’t bother.” He met my eyes, his empty. “So how are we gonna do this? You can push me into the standing shower and I can hold my arm and leg out of the way?”
I wanted to talk about that. He couldn’t see what anymore? The prospect of a family? Or being loved that strongly? We’d spent hours talking about the family we wanted late into the night. And now he didn’t want it anymore? That hurt to hear. “That’s probably our only option. Please tell me I don’t have to do the washing.”
He winked. “You know you’re desperate to get me naked. Been a while since you’ve seen a dick this big, hasn’t it, baby?”
I could pretend he wasn’t that big, but I’d slept with him a million times and knew firsthand how magnificent his cock was. I found myself laughing, shaking my head at him as a blush crept over my face. “You’re a pig.”
He chuckled. “Thank you for not denying it. No one would have believed you anyway. Least of all me.”
I leaned over and caught his gaze. “Would you like to wash your own big dick?” He shook his head, eyes mirthful. “Then shut up.”
I took my shoes off and socks, and padded into the wide standing shower. I turned it on and stepped back, waiting for the water to get warm before returning to Gavin. It was unnerving having his eyes on me so heavily. Why was he looking at me like that? Like he was soaking me up for later?
If he’d wanted later so damn bad, he shouldn’t have used his big dick on someone else. And ripped that perfect family out from under me.
“I’ll go get some soap,” I murmured, needing a break from him.
“I’ll just be right here,” he said dryly.
Unfortunately, Lance was good at his job. Before I could leave the room, I spotted a bag on the bed and walked over to find it full of toiletries for her and him. I drug it with me back to the bathroom and took out what I needed for his shower.
“I can try balancing on my left leg.” He reached for the wall beside the shower, but I refused to let him, and instead grabbed his hand. He met my eyes and then pushed up with his left leg. Because his right arm was okay, and his left wasn’t, created a balancing game. He gritted his teeth and fell against me. I wasn’t prepared for his weight and gasped, knowing that if I didn’t catch him, he’d fall, and he’d either ruin his chances of recovering, or he’d break a new bone.
I planted my feet and wrapped my arms around his waist, my face shoving against his chest.
“Shit, Jas,” he grunted. I saw his arm go over my head and he planted it on the wall, breathing so hard I barely heard him.
His heart pounded in his chest. “I have you.” We stood there for a moment. “Ready? Use my weight and hop.” He nodded, face a mask of pain. I’d never seen him look so defeated. I supported his weight and made sure to keep it like that as he made the perilous journey over the shower lip. “We should take your clothes off now.”
He didn’t even have it in him to crack a joke. “Hurry,” he begged, spittle flying from his clenched teeth.
I worked his shirt up his chest and then over his left cast covered arm, and then I pulled it free of his other. I threw it out of the shower and then tugged on the waistband on his shorts. I took a deep breath, and then pulled them down his strong thighs. It caught on his cast and I dropped to my knees, putting my face at the perfect level of his… cock. I didn’t know why the sight of it hanging there made me want to cry. I missed his cock too? How insane. “Can you lift your right leg even a half inch?”
Or maybe I missed how connected we felt together.
He gave me a quarter inch. I yanked it free of his foot and then left it on the ground around his other.
“Don’t move.” I grabbed his wheel chair and he sank down gratefully, using my hold for balance. In his position, his left arm was out of the way and his right leg hung just far away from the spray.
I huffed, putting my hair in a bun. I aimed the shower head at him, and the water rained down his head and face, cascading down his chest. His eyes closed instinctively when the water hit his face, and when he opened them, they nearly knocked me down. His lashes were breathtaking wet, thick and dark, like his hair. His brown eyes gleamed gold around his pupils. So gorgeous, I thought wildly.
“Thank you,” he said.
I dipped my head, thinking it was best I didn’t speak to him directly. “I’ll start with your hair?”
“Sure, whatever.” He exhaled quietly, closing his eyes and sagging back in his chair.
I felt, for the time being at least, that I was safe. I tore my hoodie off and then got his shampoo, pouring a thick stream of the clear green gel into his dark locks. The smell of man immediately filled the hot, steaming shower.
I started lathering his hair, digging my fingers into his scalp.
“Fuck, Jas,” he groaned, and I saw his mouth open.
“Feel good?” I dug my fingers harder, working his hair into a rich lather.
“So fucking good. Ahh,” he moaned, letting his head fall forward so I could reach the back.
I squeezed my thighs together and did the same thing to the back, and then I took my hands and trailed them down his temple, and started lathering his jaw and neck. His soapy head rested against me. I resolved myself to getting my jeans and shirt wet, and stroked his thick throat. His pulse pounded under my touch. When I glanced down, his cock was rock hard. I bit my lip and forced my eyes to remain on safe spots. Like his chiseled chest.
Oh crap. There was nothing safe. Everything was tempting, and worse, I’d fallen into temptation before. I knew how sweet this drug was.
How devastating.
Before I moved for his body wash, I scrubbed my soapy hands over his face, making sure to get it all over his eyes.
So he couldn’t open them.
He smiled, but didn’t talk, his head resting on the back of his chair, cock so thick and hard it was making it hard to see.
For so long, I’d gone without this feeling. I’d hooked up with a few men since him, but that was only to relieve the aching loneliness I felt since losing Gavin. I didn’t feel anything for them, and any lust I felt was only because I pretended the men were the one who got away. In the morning, they were all strangers. Because I had this sick feeling that my lust wasn’t mine. It was Gav’s. He cultivated it first, he claimed it, and I was missing pieces without him in my life.
Biting back tears, I searched in the bag for his body wash. I cracked it open and inhaled, my toes curling. It smelled like lemons and mint with hints of wood. I squirted it all over his body. The pale green liquid slid down his chest and into his pubes.
Even his pubes were enticing. Thick and dark, they snaked around his balls and pelvic bones, leading into a thick happy trail between the V’s cut enticingly into his lower abdomen. I hated how badly I wanted to sink to my knees and take his engorged length into my mouth. I knew how good he tasted, but I didn’t remember.
I shouldn’t want to remember, but the loss of that memory hurt so badly, I licked my lips.
I squirted some soap onto his cock too. It twitched, and his fingers dug into the arm rests on his wheelchair.
I put some soap into one hand, set the bottle down on the cubby, and then lathered my hands. “Armpits first.” I went in and scrubbed my fingers through his armpit hair, and then moved on to the other, careful of his cast. I washed his arm and then down his chest, digging my fingers into each and every groove.
I accidentally stroked his nipples, and he groaned, faint and deep-rooted, in his chest.
His nipples were darker than the rest of his skin. I straddled his good leg and sat down on his thigh, squeezing mine around him as I took my sweet time lathering his six pack. His abs were rock hard and smooth; I dug my fingers into them. When I got to his pubes, I threaded my fingers in the dark hair and pulled ever so slightly. His cock twitched against my leg, and there was a small bead of precum glistening on his tip.
I was so fucked.
I grabbed hold of his shaft, and then I stroked him from the base of his cock, and back to his tip. He was eight and almost a half inches of rock hard flesh. With an ever-so-slight curve to the right, he hit my aching spots. Every. Single. Time.
“Shit, Jas.” His heavy breathing sent me into a fog of lust.
But I fought it, moving down to wash his balls. When I inched back on his lap, shower water rained down on me. I slid to my knees on the wet floor and washed down his strong thigh and then his leg. “Can you lift yourself at all?”
His right hand held his chair and he rose in inch, giving me enough room to reach his ass. I washed the globes of his incredibly taut ass, and then slid my finger between the globes.
He tightened up and sank down. “All right, showers over.”
I forced my laugh down. “Never were a fan.”
“Wash the soap off my eyes.”
I grabbed the soap and put more on his face, scrubbing it until he was blind. “How’s that?”
“Jasmeen. Wash the damn soap off.”
I stood back, letting my hair down. My clothes clung to me. “I’m going to shower now while you sit there and soak. Ah ah,” I reprimanded, when he tried to move his head back for the spray. I pushed his chair until his body was out of shot of the water. “Don’t wipe it off, Gavin.”
He tried to reach for his face again, but I grabbed his hand and held it in my wet one, shimming out of my jeans and panties. I released his hand for a moment as I wriggled free of my shirt and then grasped his slick fingers, washing myself one handed with his shower gel.
“Okay, you’re turn.” I repositioned him where he’d been before, and then retraced myself. Washing his hair, arm, and chest. I stooped in front of him and avoided his hard cock and dark, intense eyes. He was burning me, tracing my body as I washed his.
My heart hammered, and my pulse thrummed. I knew I shouldn’t, but I felt… present. Alive. In a way I hadn’t in four, excruciatingly long years. What hurt the most was that I was only getting a taste, a taste I should not even be tasting. But I was. I was savoring the life burning in my veins; when we parted ways this time, there would only be emptiness.