I snag the note and crumple it in my palm until I make my way upstairs to reach my bed. Never bothering to lock the front door, I practically crawl up the steps.
One by one, I almost fall with each one.
Finally reaching my room, I lean over and shuffle my way to the side I always sleep on near the window, tossing Evan’s note on the nightstand. Funny how he feels the need to explain everything.
Sitting on the side of the bed, I strip down to my boxers and fall back, luckily not bashing my head open on the headboard, then snug the warm comforter around me, cocoon like fashion.
And that’s all she wrote.
Nightmares and twisted dreams make no sense, but wake me. I’m too weak and in too much pain to even fight or figure them out. I can’t turn to my other side to get comfortable and am about as good as death warmed over and it hurts to breathe, much less move a muscle.
I fall back asleep, my mind drifting to Evan.
I run my hands up and down his sexy back, tracing my fingertips across his ass. I love exploring him and the fact he’s letting me. His eyes, though slightly drooping, are alive and alert as he watches my every move in the vanity mirror. I bite into my bottom lip, wanting to take him for the first time. I lean down and pepper his back in kisses, licking across tense muscles, savoring every inch of him. My dick grazes across his ass cheeks, as my nuts slap against his crack. I claw at his sides, digging my fingers into his skin and bite at his neck, while slowly grinding against him.
“Hold on one minute, Evan.” I slide off him.
“Something wrong?”
“No, I just need to get something.”
I reach for the lube and a condom, then lay beside him, coating my fingers in the gel. I pull his leg up and over mine, then slowly enter one finger at a time, as he lets out a glorious roar for me. I damn near lose it right then.
Taking my time, I enter him with my cock, not forcefully, not to fast, as I have no intentions on causing him any pain.
“Evan, you okay so far?” I whisper.
“Yes, why?”
“Because this isn’t like fucking a chick, it’s completely different. We have muscles and curves in our ass too. It’s about self-discovery, patience…and learning. Otherwise it’s painful. You don’t want that.”
“I really appreciate you right now,” he blurts out.
I pull back and grab his hips. With a twist, he’s on his stomach with his prick hammering into the sheet. He watches our reflections. I hunch over him, the head of my dick enters him, stretching his ass. Evan tenses a little, but I run my hand softly down his back to calm him.
Leaning my body up next to his, I whisper to him, “I’ll be easy. I won’t hurt you!” I kiss his neck and raise up behind him, watching myself as I slip in and out of him deeper and deeper.
I take him by the hips, careful not to touch where I just tatted him, and raise him back until he’s on all fours in front of me. His legs begin shaking and his ass tightens around me. So fucking good. The intensity and shock sensations are pulsating through my entire body. The tension fills my chest and the tingling around my nuts intensifies throughout my body, from my brain to my toes. I hold off a few seconds, waiting for that first climax to hit. Euphoria washes down my spine as we release together.
I blink groggily, wondering how long I’ve been out of it? Hell, I don’t even know what time it is, much less what day either.
A cool breeze brushes across my forehead, but it returns to scalding hot against my skin immediately, like I’m on fire.
My eyes blur and sting, blinding me.
I can’t open them. Oh God!
The light coming through my lids sear me alone, it’s too much for me to bear, so I reach up to cover them. The body aches kick my ass as soon as I try to move and I honestly must have one rare flavor of miscellaneous jungle rot disease.
Throats so dry.
I can’t swallow.
Shit!
I’m ripping my throat out coughing.
Ouch!
I think I just hacked a lung out.
Fuck, it hurts to even breathe.
I’m not sure I could drink anything at all, and dehydration runs through me. I’ve never been this ill in my life.
A wash cloth wipes across my brow again, down my cheeks, then my lips. I need to drink the wetness from it, but I’m scared I’ll choke if I try.
I push my lips out and hear the glass jingle, as a cool ice cube traces from one corner of my lips to the other. A dream come true or an unanswered prayer, either way I’ll take it.
Like a nursing baby, I pucker and soak in tiny bits of it, loving how the coolness trickles down the back of my throat, soothing the sting. So fucking good!
The bed shifts because I moan in agony at the movement, then suddenly my eyes are covered in a freshly cooled rag, easing the pain.
Am I dreaming again? My mother used to do this, wipe my face when I was sick and comfort me. Oh yes, best feeling in the world.
Gentle fingertips gloss through the strands of my hair, completely relaxing. Dad always does this. I drift back off.
For how long, who knows?
After what seems like a few minutes, I wake and feel the same familiar touch stroking through my hair. My eyes aren’t stinging like before, but still hurt. I try to pry them open.
As I do, a blurry vision becomes clearer and clearer.
A smile creases at the corner of lips, as a tongue glosses over the lower lip.
Eyes widen, and the wash cloth unsticks my eyes, gently pressing one side across to the other, and I open them to see somewhat clear. I still can’t make out who it is though. My mom or dad? Am I dreaming again?
Touch so gentle.
Caresses tender.
“You had me worried there. Glad to see those blue eyes again,” a familiar voice says.
All I can do is reach for a hand, as he wipes them again.
I know the voice without a doubt though, it’s him.
“Evan? Baby?”
But, how and why?
“Yes, sir, the one and only,” he laughs.
The comfort it brings as it rumbles from deep down inside the pit of his stomach, tightening muscles as it works its way up, comes out soft like, and caring, it’s soothing. It’s unique and special. Like him.
“Ummmm…I’m confused.” I try to shake my head, then cup it in my hands, bad idea. Headache. “But why? I mean how?” I ask, hating the fact that my teeth chatter just talking.
“We need to get you to the hospital, Gabe, this is not okay.” He points his finger from my head to toe. “I stopped in Twisted Cherry, told Eric that we still had to finish up a tattoo, and he said you were feeling under the weather and took off for a few days. Then I came straight here. Gabe, you need a doctor,” he says, wiping the fresh wash cloth over my face again.
Chills erupt all over me and I turn to him, fighting the pain. “I’ll be fine, Thanks for coming though. My doctor’s number is on my phone. Dr. Gregory.”
Evan leans over me and takes my phone in his hand. “It’s dead. Let me charge it.” His is already plugged into the wall, so he yanks it off and connects mine. “Okay, I should have it up and running in a few minutes.” He leans back in place, which is perfect, because it’s beside me.
“I’m a little confused.” I somehow manage to raise my hand and caress it along his lower back.
“Then let me explain it for you. I’ve been here for two days. I hope your doctor is even in this weekend or at least taking calls.” He caresses my face again.
“That works wonders, Evan.” I want to close my eyes, but don’t want him to fade away from my mind if I do, so I fight it.
“Gabe, you were on fire, burning up with fever. Do you remember me giving you Ibuprofen for it?” He nods toward the nightstand, the bottle and a cup of ice sit there.
“No, I don’t remember even knowing you were here. I felt fingers in my hair and a wash cloth, I think. I don’t know. It hurts to try to remember right now.”
“Yes, like I said, I’ve been here for two days, watching you. I almost called an ambulance for you. You’re very sick, ya know?”
“I’m already feeling better knowing I’m not alone here now, but only a little bit better. Baby, I’ve never been this sick in my life.” I stroke gently up and down his back bone. “Having these horrible dreams, didn’t help either.”
“We’ll talk about those later. Let’s call the doctor, your phone should let me get the number now,” he mumbles and stretches for it.