It’s been a week since Christopher entered the hospital. An entire week since he saved me once again. He’s healing beautifully, as well as anyone could expect. Now he’s climbing the walls, aching to be out of here.

 

“Why did they have to keep me for so long, anyway?” He’s only asked me this question roughly two dozen times today.

 

“Because,” I repeat, as I have so many times, “they had to be sure you weren’t infected. Infection’s a pretty big deal, you know.”

 

“Sure, sure. I didn’t have a fever. The bullet hardly grazed me. It was superficial.”

 

“Hardly superficial. There was muscle damage. You got very lucky.” My mom smiles at him. He calms down. Mom has been here for four days, taking care of both of us. It seems like she has the magic touch. One word from her and he’s a different person.

 

“You’re right,” he admits. “I just can’t wait to get out of this bed.”

 

“You’ll have to take it easy for a while,” Mom reminds him. “No lifting heavy things. You could hurt yourself even worse.”

 

Christopher nods. I feel like I’m witnessing a miracle.

 

“Are you sure you don’t want to come back with us?” I say, making her laugh. “I’m serious. You’re the only person he listens to.”

 

“He’s a lot of bluster. Inside he’s just a little boy. All men are—no matter how big they are on the outside.” We snicker together quietly.

 

“I hear you over there. I’m not deaf.”

 

I laugh, crossing the room to kiss him. He’s half smiling, so I know he’s not that upset.

 

Mom and I have done a lot of catching up over the past several days. I owed her an explanation. I’d been kidnapped, after all, when she didn’t even know Lucas was stalking me. Then I was rescued by a man of whose existence she was unaware.

 

She only came to make sure we were taken care of. The two of us have been sharing a room at a hotel near the hospital. I’ve spent nearly every minute of visiting hours right here, at Christopher’s side.

 

Derrick came two days into Christopher’s stay to pick up his bike. Christopher probably wouldn’t be able to ride it home, so Derrick had a friend drive him to meet us. I noticed how much better he already looked since I first saw him only a few days prior.

 

He gave me a big hug on entering the room. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” he said.

 

The sincerity in his voice touched me. I left the two of them alone for a while so they could catch up. When I got back they were laughing. My heart soared. Christopher had told me of their conversation, how he’d confessed everything. How Derrick gave him his bike. I owed him a lot, too. More than anything, I was happy to see Christopher laughing. He’d missed Derrick’s friendship after Michelle’s death. I hoped this meant they could rebuild their bond. Christopher needed people, as much as he pretended he didn’t.

 

We promised to get together after Christopher was released. He looked hopeful after Derrick left.

 

Mom heads down to the nurse’s station to see if there’s any chance of getting his discharge papers some time before next week. I’d think with such an obstinate, frustrating patient they’d be happy to get him out of their hair. It feels like they’re dragging their feet.

 

“You know,” Christopher says, now that we’re alone, “for such a long time, I thought I was protecting Derrick and his family by not telling the truth about how Michelle died. I thought I was being…I don’t know…noble or something. Sparing them the pain, protecting her name. Now…I’m thinking about how Derrick looked when he came to visit. Didn’t he look better already?”

 

I nod. “He looked great. Sober, for starters.”

 

“Yeah. I wonder if a lot of pain he was going through had to do with never being really sure. Not wanting to believe I could do it, especially since we were so close and I was Michelle’s husband. Maybe keeping secrets only hurts people.”

 

“It’s like you’re reading my mind,” I tell him, sitting beside his bed. “I’ve been wondering the same thing. If I’d been honest about Lucas, everything I was going through with him, I wouldn’t have needed to suffer the way I did. I could have been honest with my parents, for starters. I never did tell them the reason I left him. Thinking, I don’t know, I was sparing them something. All I was doing was driving myself crazy, and letting him get even more crazy the longer I stayed away. I should have told the police. I should have told somebody. But I was ashamed. And for what? Because he’s a nut? That’s not my fault.”

 

Christopher takes my hand. “I think it’s easy to say that now,” he says, stroking my knuckles with his thumb. “When you’re in the middle of something like that, you don’t want anybody to know. I didn’t want anybody to know Michelle was shooting up again. I’m sure the coroner figured that out, but, had I said something at the time, I could have helped avoid a lot of pain.”

 

“We never know, do we?”

 

He shakes his head. “There’s one thing I do know, though. No secrets between us. Ever. Don’t ever think you need to spare me something. Just say it. I’ve lived with secrets for too long.”

 

I have to smile. I love when he talks about our future together.

 

“Deal.”

 

###

 

Carly raises her coffee cup in a toast. “To the two of you. Especially you,” she says to me and Christopher, then throws her arms around him. “You saved her. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

 

“Oh, Carly.” I chuckle, tears in my eyes.

 

“I mean it. God, when I think…we were just laughing together…”

 

I nod, a shiver running up my spine. Isn’t that what I thought about while I was in the trunk? How she would feel, knowing we were just together outside the shop before Lucas took me?

 

She insisted we have a little party at the shop to celebrate my homecoming. Derrick’s here, drinking from a coffee cup instead of a flask. He’s agreed to go to AA. Christopher told me he’s finally able to put it all behind him, now that he has a sense of closure. He knows why Michelle did what she did. He can process it now. It’s time to move on. He’s a young man, not much older than Christopher, with plenty of life left.

 

I’m glad to see Christopher looking so happy, here in my world. When we were in Texas, he decided he didn’t give a damn about riding into town. He wasn’t going to separate himself from the world anymore. If people had a problem with it, let them. It was their problem. I told him I stood fully behind him.

 

The best part is, the first day he came in for coffee and a muffin during the morning rush, he was mobbed by people shaking his hand and congratulating him for being so brave and saving me from my stalker.

 

It took me by surprise just as much as it did him. He kept shooting me looks, to which I kept shrugging. I had no idea where they got their information from…until I looked over at Carly, who had a mile-wide grin on her face.

 

“You told them?”

 

“I had to. They need to get down off their high horses and find out what a good guy he is. He deserves a little respect, wouldn’t you say?”

 

I agreed wholeheartedly, and I still do. I know it’s not going to happen overnight, but I get the feeling Christopher is going to start putting his own past behind him. Maybe he and Derrick can work together on that. I know from conversations with him that the club isn’t where he wants to be, and he hasn’t been part of it for quite some time. Christopher had no way of knowing that, though, since they never spoke.

 

I baked a little cake for our party, and I’m doling out pieces to our little group. There is only a handful of us, but for right now, this is all I need. I have my business. I have Christopher. I have friends. My life is pretty perfect.

 

###

 

“Should we flip a coin?”

 

“What, heads my house, tails your house?”

 

“Sure. Why not?”

 

I shrug. “It seems a pretty crazy way to make such a big decision.” We’ve been going back and forth on this for days. Whose house we should live in. It only makes sense for us to move in together. Neither of us feels like keeping an entire second set of toiletries at the other’s house. And it makes no sense for me to keep paying rent on my house if I spend half my time at Christopher’s. It would be one thing if we lived far apart, but it’s a fifteen-minute drive from door-to-door on a bad day.

 

There are excellent arguments on both sides. Christopher’s house holds a lot of memories. Maybe it would be better for him to move on, leave that part of his life behind. My house is in the middle of town, or practically. Does he want to live his life among the people he’s been trying so hard to avoid? Yes, he’s made progress. He comes into town on a regular basis with no blowback from either the residents or the club. But moving there is a lot to ask all at once. Meanwhile, my house is closer to my shop. I could walk there if I needed to.

 

“Fine,” I say. “We’ll flip a coin. Heads my house. Tails, yours.”

 

He pulls out a quarter. “You sure about this?”

 

I hesitate, then nod. “No matter where I am, I’ll be with you. It’s just as well, either way.”

 

“Okay.” He grins, then flips the quarter high into the air. He catches it, then slaps it on the back of his hand. I place my hand over his.

 

“What’s the matter?” he asks.

 

“I just realized. I don’t care what the quarter says. I want to move in here.” We’re sitting in front of his fireplace, a Monopoly board between us.

 

“What? Since when?”

 

“Since…this is where I want to be. That’s the only way I can put it. That house, my rental? It doesn’t mean anything to me. There’s no attachment to it. It’s just…convenient. That’s all. This house?” I look around. “It’s already full of memories for me. Good memories.”

 

He smiles. “It is. I know what you mean.”

 

“But! If there’s too much here you want to move away from, I totally understand. I don’t want to force you to keep living here with all the old memories.”

 

He thinks about that, now looking around. “We can redecorate. I think I’ve been too stuck in the past. It’s time for me to move forward, but that doesn’t have to mean moving to another house. I can start here.” He smiles at me. “You really want to live here?”

 

“I really do.” I kiss him.

 

“Can we still see what the coin says?”

 

I shrug, removing my hand. We look. Heads.

 

I fall back on the floor, laughing. “Oh, well. What’s a coin toss? Arbitrary.”

 

He leans down, covering my mouth with his own. The laughter dies, replaced by a low moan as his tongue swirls around the inside of my mouth. As always, my body responds to his almost instantly.

 

“You’re pushing it, little boy,” I whisper while his hand roams up and down my torso.

 

“How so? And who are you calling little?”

 

I giggle, then whimper when his fingers brush my sensitive nipples. “You know you’re supposed to be taking it easy. You can’t flex those abs too much. We don’t want to hurt you.”

 

“That’s true.” He kisses my jaw, my chin, down my throat. His mouth sends a tingle straight to my core. “Maybe you should do all the work, in that case.”

 

I laugh. “I think that’s a possibility. Only if you ask nicely.” My hand caresses his cock, already at half-mast. He growls.

 

I enjoy making love in front of a roaring fire as much as the next girl, but I don’t love being watched by a hound dog. I scramble to my feet, dashing up the stairs. Christopher follows.

 

As soon as we reach the bedroom, he closes the door. We fall onto the bed together, kissing and touching. He claws at my clothes, unbuttoning my jeans, running his hands beneath my t-shirt to touch my skin.

 

I feel the clasps on my bra pop open. “Somebody’s in a hurry,” I murmur, taking his bottom lip between my teeth. I suck it, then bite gently.

 

“Mmm…” he growls, returning the favor.

 

I get on my knees on the mattress, pulling the shirt over my head, discarding the bra. His hands are immediately on my breasts, kneading them. I sigh, closing my eyes to enjoy the feeling. Then I move his hands away. “Just lay back and enjoy,” I whisper. He smiles, placing his hands behind his head to watch me.

 

I straddle him, kissing my way down his inked torso. Swiping my tongue over his nipples before moving down to his navel. He hisses through clenched teeth, abs tensing. Still so tender.

 

I unbutton his jeans, tongue moving playfully along the waistband before I slide the pants over his hips and down his legs. I rub his erect cock through the cotton of his shorts, teasing him. There’s a wet spot at the tip, betraying his excitement.

 

“Put it in your mouth,” he whispers urgently.

 

I comply, sliding the shorts down until he’s exposed. His solid, erect length lying against his stomach. Starting from the base, I drag my tongue slowly up his length until I reach the head. I open my mouth, allowing him to slide past my lips. His groan seems to reach my pussy, which twitches in response. I’m already wet, ready for more. First, I’ll please him.

 

I go excruciatingly slow, sliding my mouth down his shaft one inch at a time. He holds his breath, waiting for me to take him completely in. Finally my lips go as far as they will, my mouth unable to hold all of him. I move back up, then down again. My hand strokes the now wet shaft while I gently suck the head.

 

“Oh, God…” Christopher’s eyes are closed, his beautiful body stretched out before me. He’s totally in my control. I take advantage, rolling my tongue in circles around him while I suck, flicking the sensitive spot just below the head every so often, pulling a groan from his throat.

 

“Please…” The torture is almost too much. I start bobbing up and down, easing the pressure. He sighs, holding onto the back of my head. Guiding me, trying to regain control.

 

I pick my head up, letting him slide from me. He looks up, surprised. “You’re not in control,” I growl. “I am.”

 

“Oh? We’ll see about that.” He takes me in his strong arms, flipping me onto my back. Every time I forget how powerful he is, he’s happy to remind me. I don’t mind. I love the way he takes over, doing what he wants to me.

 

My jeans are off in a flash, then my panties. His mouth is on me, teasing me. Licking my lips, the insides of my thighs. My most sensitive places…all except one, that is.

 

“Oh, Christopher…” I hold his head to me, trying to guide him to my clit. He fights me, making me laugh despite the frustration he’s putting me through.

 

“I’m in control,” he says before going back to his torture.

 

I can’t take it. My hands grip the pillow beneath my head. My eyes are closed, my entire body tensed. “Please lick me. Please!” I’m aching, almost ready to touch myself to ease the tension. He groans against my mound, driving me even crazier. I let out a noise somewhere between a groan and a scream. I’m rewarded by the feeling of his tongue flicking against my clit. “Yes!” I cry out, riding his face.

 

He licks my folds, lapping up my wetness, before sliding two thick fingers into me. My muscles clench around them. I cry out again. He begins moving them in and out, rapidly pumping as his tongue lashes back and forth over my button. My back arches. I hold my tits, rubbing my hands over them.

 

I hear him groan and know he sees me playing with myself. I pinch my nipples, flicking my fingers over them while he sucks my clit. I’m so close. “Oh! Christopher!” My hips rise off the bed, the pressure in my core exploding into pure bliss. It rocks me, leaving me gasping and shaking.

 

He’s still kissing me down there. Softly, sensually. His tongue runs slowly over my skin. I could stay like this all day…but I know he wants more. So do I.

 

“On your back,” I gasp, still catching my breath. He rolls over immediately, reaching for me. I position myself over him, guiding him inside me. We both groan when I slide down, his thickness filling me.

 

“Fuck…” he gasps when I start riding. Gently, slowly, rocking my hips as I grind against him. I lean down, one hand on either side of his head, giving his mouth access to my tits.

 

“Suck them,” I beg, still thrusting down on him. He groans, eyes wide, surprised at my forwardness. One, then the other nipple meets his tongue, his lips. He sucks hard, biting gently, making me gasp and groan, whispering to him, urging him on.

 

“That’s right. Suck my tits. Oh, yes…” It’s not my imagination when I feel him thrust upward, into me. Unable to contain himself. He loves hearing me talk dirty, so I keep it up. Telling him what he does to me, how much I love fucking him. How his huge cock makes me want to scream when I come. His breath comes faster, more uneven.

 

He reaches up behind me, taking a handful of my hair. Pulling gently. I moan, the sensation almost too much now. I feel myself building again, higher this time. His thickness inside me drives me wild. I bear down on him, clenching all around him as another orgasm tears through me. This time I scream, every muscle pulsing as I ride it out.

 

Moments later, his urgent thrusts signal his climax. I encourage him, tell him to come for me. He groans, then explodes inside me. Once he’s finished, I roll onto my side.

 

After catching my breath, I lay my head on his chest. His heart beats, strong and steady, against my ear.

 

“Where did that come from?” he asks, still slightly breathless.

 

“What?”

 

“The assertiveness. Playing with your tits, telling me to suck them. You know what I mean.”

 

“Oh.” I blush. “I guess you bring it out in me.”

 

“I’m not complaining.”

 

“I could tell,” I remark. Then something occurs to me. “You know something?”

 

“Hmm?” He sounds half-asleep already. Typical man.

 

“I don’t think the sex could ever be as good at my house. I think I made the right choice, deciding to move in here.”

 

He laughs. “The two of us could have awesome sex on a beach, in a camper, in the yard, in a car, on the side of a mountain. Anywhere.”

 

“Well, now.” I raise myself up, looking him in the eye. “It sounds like you and I are going to keep each other pretty busy.”

 

THE END

 

 

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