Marcus walked back into the bedroom, still wet from his shower, the bath towel wrapped around his waist.
Sara was laying on her side watching him, a smile of anticipation on her face.
“Nuh-uh!” He wagged his finger in front of him. “Don’t even look at me like that! You aren’t getting any of this hotness until we are out of this house, and back in our own bed. It’s been three days already, with zero activity. We could still be here at Christmas if Mrs Vega decides to play silly beggars.”
Marcus stood in front of his wife, with his arms folded across his broad chest, and smiled as she watched a drop of water run across his tattoo and drip onto the carpet.
“Didn’t anyone ever tell you that you’re supposed to give pregnant women everything they want, except chocolate?” She smiled up at him, hopefully. “This would be a spectacular way to kill some time.”
“Sweetheart, just say the word and we are out of here, down the road, and in our own bed within fifteen minutes, and I’ll be giving you your first orgasm within five minutes of that.” Marcus promised.
“Then let’s just cut out the driving and the first fifteen minutes, and go for the five minutes to orgasm, here and now!” Sara suggested. “So much easier.”
“No can do, sweet cheeks!” Marcus grinned as Sara thrust out her bottom lip in a sulk. “I’ve always said that I would follow you to the ends of the earth, and I will! But that does not mean that I have to make love to you when we get there!”
“But we have to stay here so I can keep an eye on Mischa.” Sara protested. “She’s started to make some real progress, and I don’t want to let that slip back by not being here.”
“Honey, you’re doing a wonderful job with Tulli, Lara, and Mischa, and thanks to the eating plan you’ve set up, and the exercise they’re getting in Tuck’s pool, it’s obvious to anyone with eyes how much healthier they’re looking already.” Marcus sat down on the bed next to her, and took her hand in his much larger one. “But if we’re being honest, and we always are with each other, the reason Mischa has been doing so much better these last few days, has got jack-shit to do with you! You do know that don’t you?”
Sara glared at him in annoyance.
“Yes, I do know that, thank you very much!” She grouched. “But you have to admit, it was my idea to introduce Joel to Mischa in the first place. I just knew they would hit it off from the beginning.”
“Yes, but let’s face it, nobody could have predicted the way those two have reacted to each other.” Marcus grinned. “Joel acts like he found his long-lost sister, and Mischa giggles from the second she hears his voice coming up the stairs. Not even you would have put money on that happening!”
“No, I wouldn’t, you’re right.” Sara shrugged, staring at her fingers intertwined with Marcus’ larger digits.
“So, what has you so worried still, that you won’t leave them to fend for themselves for a few days? Hmm?” Marcus tugged on Sara’s hand to make her look up. “Something’s bothering you, and you’re not talking to me about it. You know that’s not how we play this game, sweetheart. Not ever. You have problems, you talk to me about them.”
“I spoke to a friend of mine at the hospital yesterday, and I described the way Mischa was reacting to Joel.” Sara bit her lip. “He works with trauma victims, and victims of abuse, among other cases, and I thought he might be able to throw some light on Mischa’s behaviour.”
“She’s so much better than she was, right?” Marcus frowned. “I mean, we’re not having any more screaming fits, and she doesn’t seem anxious around men any more. She even let me carry her downstairs this morning, so she could go in the pool with everyone else. That’s huge progress, isn’t it?”
“It’s good progress, yes.” Sara agreed. “But what worries me is the way she’s responding now is very childlike. When she’s with Joel, she giggles like a little girl. I mean, a very little girl. It’s almost like she’s regressed to a state where she’s acting like a six or seven-year-old.”
“And that’s bad?” Marcus guessed.
“It’s not ideal, let’s say.” Sara shrugged. “If we knew it was just temporary, then I wouldn’t be so concerned. But it could be the trauma has flicked a switch in her brain and this is her response. She’s gone back to a time when her life was sweet and funny, and nothing hurtful could touch her. She senses the goodness in Joel, and is responding to it the way a child would respond to a protective older brother. She adores him.”
“And Joel treats her like a little sister.” Marcus noted. “There doesn’t seem to be anything romantic about the way he sees her, does there?”
Sara shook her head.
“While everyone looks at Joel like he’s a little kid, we shouldn’t forget that he’s a young man of eighteen, with all the urges any other young man might have.” Sara pointed out. “But, if you look at the way he treats Mischa, it really is platonic, and very brotherly. It’s like he understands that she’s been through something terrible and he just wants to help her get over it and make her happy.”
“So, you’re keeping an eye on her, to see how she responds?” Marcus guessed.
“I’ve been keeping an eye on her, looking for signs that she’s actually trying to communicate.” Sara explained. “So far, she laughs and giggles at Joel’s jokes and stories, and from the timing of her laughter, it does seem as though she’s actually laughing at the punchline, not just randomly. So, I think she is understanding what he’s saying. But so far, she hasn’t actually made any attempt to communicate back. She hasn’t spoken, or made any gestures that you would understand. It’s just a one-way street.”
“Did your friend suggest when he thought she might start responding? Is there some sort of timetable she could be following that we know nothing about?” Marcus rubbed circles on the back of Sara’s hand as he spoke.
“There’s no timetable, and there’s no guarantee she will ever say anything.” Sara shrugged. “This regression may be permanent, or something might trigger a reaction that will bring her out of it.”
“What would the treatment be if she doesn’t come out of it in a reasonable period of time?” Marcus asked. “I mean, would they do something drastic like try and trigger a reaction or a memory to bring her out of it?”
“I honestly don’t know. I’m not a psychologist.” Sara shook her head. “I don’t know if that would help or just make her regress further. And of course, the decision would have to be made by Tulli and Lara as to whether the doctors should even try something like that. It’s a difficult decision.”
“Yeah, I can see that now.” Marcus nodded.
“So, now you know the reason why I can’t leave Mischa, just to go and have wild monkey sex with you, can’t you just relax that stupid rule of yours and give me that five-minute orgasm I’ve been longing for?” Sara looked up at him from under her long lashes, her face a picture of innocent begging.
“Nah, not a chance, poppet!” He grinned. “But as you’ve been a good girl otherwise, how about I give you a shoulder rub and then a foot massage?”
Sara sighed.
“Oh, all right.” She grumbled. “If that’s all I’m worth to you.”
He tugged her up to a sitting position on the edge of the bed, and crawled up behind her, settling himself on his knees so he was half a head taller than her.
Marcus started by rubbing his thumbs up and down the back of her neck, while his hands caressed the tops of her shoulders and the sides of her throat.
He’d been gently rubbing circles over the top of her shoulders for a minute or two when he noticed that Sara’s hands had found their way onto his thighs, and were blazing their own trail up and down, down and up, not stopping at the edge of the towel before travelling down again.
He could feel himself stiffening with every stroke of her soft hands up his thighs.
“You don’t play fair, sweetheart.” He growled into her neck as he planted his lips at her pulse point.
“Maybe not.” Sara turned her lips to meet his. “But it’ll level the playing field if I’m not the only one who’s as horny as hell!”
Marcus rolled his eyes as his tongue plundered his wife’s sweet mouth.
Realistically, he’d known he’d never be able to hold out for more than a few minutes, but damn! He thought he’d at least hold out until she’d started to beg a little. Or a lot.
The way Sara’s hands had found their target now? Not a fucking chance!