Locke

I want those blessings.  I want that blessed life.  I want to live.

Chapter 28—Emmy—Two Months Later

Today is the day!  I get my arm cast removed and the cast on my leg switched from the long-leg one to one that stops below the knee.  I don’t think I could be more excited about this if I were getting a million-dollar bonus and a happy ending.  Although, I’m guessing I’ll get that happy ending when we get home from the doctor’s office.  Dr. Moss told us that, depending on his examination, I would most likely be given permission to start weight-bearing activities.  Just the thought of being able to get around just a fraction has my spirits soaring.

I’ve hated that Maddox has basically had to put his life on hold.  There hasn’t been anything I can do on my own.  The only plus is that the sponge baths have become really creative.

Things have changed drastically since that night we whispered our love in the dark.  He tells me, even if it isn’t daily, that he loves me.  He’s more open with his thoughts and feelings, but his smiles still come few and far between.

We’ve also been able to throw away almost all of the contents of his box.  There are three things still in there: the letter from his fallen soldier’s widow, the picture of that vile bitch Mercedes, and his Medal of Honor.  He’s also been working with a psychologist to help him further than I can with what pains him.  Every day, I see the weight on his shoulders ease up more and more.

I couldn’t be prouder of him.

“Are you excited?” he asks, bringing my hand up to his lips for a kiss.

“Hell yeah I am!  I’m going to have BOTH my hands now.  More for me to rub all over your hard body,” I laugh.  When his groan echoes through the exam room, my laughter becomes all-consuming.  I’m pretty sure I snort too.  “Well, and I’ll be able to walk to the bathroom on my own.  I’m going to miss my sponge baths though.”

“You’re going to miss your sponge baths?  Just last night you were telling me that you hated them and couldn’t wait until you had a real bath.”  His brow cocks, reminding me of the fit I threw last night.

“Uh, yeah…that was before you made me come on your tongue.  Hey, I rhymed!”  I start to laugh again, leaning back on the elevated exam table and resting my head against the soft padding  “Jesus, did you spike my breakfast with something?” I joke, wiping the tears from my eyes and looking over at him.

I sober instantly when I see his face.

“Holy shit,” I gasp.

He doesn’t flinch.  If anything, his smile gets even bigger.  I’ve seen him smile before, but it’s never been this big.  This beautiful.  This… It’s everything I’ve imagined.  His whole face changes.  His eyes crinkle in the corners, his white teeth in contrast to the golden bronze of his skin, his dark eyes full of pure fucking happiness.

He laughs when I continue to stare at him.  I’m afraid to move or speak for fear that it will vanish and I’ll never see it again.

“You’re beautiful.”  The whisper slips past my lips without permission and I slap my hand over my mouth with eyes wide.

“Still not sure that’s a description I want to own,” he grumbles, still smiling.

“Tough shit, big guy.  You’re stunning.”

“Sass, Em.”

“Sass, my ass,” I tease.

“It’s going to be your ass.  I have eight weeks of your sass throwing to pink your ass with.”  He leans in, his arms braced against the table, his face inches from mine, and whispers, “You’re going to beg for it.  I’m going to enjoy every damn second of it too.”

Before I can respond to his delicious threat, the door opens and Dr. Moss walks in.  I shift in my seat and give Maddox a narrowed-eyed glare.  He laughs and kisses me softly before moving out of the way.

“Are you ready to get started, Emersyn?” the doctor asks.

Without moving my eyes from Maddox, I reply, “You bet your ass I am.”

Maddox’s deep laughter booms through the small room, and I smile shyly in return.  Dr. Moss looks up, trying to figure out what is going on, but he shrugs his shoulder before starting his examination.

Two hours later, we’re back in Maddox’s repaired Charger and rushing home.  He runs two red lights and has us back in half the time.

Tonight is going to be magnificent.

When we park in the garage of the apartment complex, I look over to see Maddox deep in thought, staring out the windshield.  He doesn’t look troubled, just contemplative.

“You okay over there?” I probe, reaching out and rubbing his thigh with my newly freed arm.  It hurts to move my wrist too much.  The doctor warned that I would be feeling that way for a while, but I’m confident that, with the therapy plan he’s worked out, I’ll be back to normal in no time.

“You have no idea the strength it’s taking me not to take you now…roughly.  I’m worried that I won’t be able to hold back and your body isn’t ready to be fucked the way I want—no, need—to fuck you.  I’m fighting with myself, Em, because right now, if I get out of this car without curbing some of this shit, I’m going to take you harder than you can take.”

“Jesus Jones, Maddox.  Is that supposed to be a deterrent?”

“You bet your ass it is!  You have no idea the things I want to do to you.”

“Well, then, I’ll tell you what.  How about you sit here and think about all those dirty things you want to do to me since you apparently have no plans on actually doing them any time soon.  Don’t mind me.  I’ll just sit here and take care of myself!”

I’m frustrated.  So freaking frustrated.  I get where he’s coming from, but holy shit!  How can he say that stuff and not think it’s going to make me need him more?

His nostrils flare and his jaw ticks, but he doesn’t move.  I huff and jerk my hand from his thigh.  The hell with this.  I shove my strong hand down my sweatpants, moaning when my fingertips brush over my swollen nub.  My panties are soaked, like completely saturated with my desire, and it won’t take me but a second to bring myself to completion.

“Emersyn,” he warns.

I roll my eyes, flip my fingers under the band on my panties, and push them deep, without ceremony, into my hot core.  I can smell my arousal taking over the interior of his car.  There is no damn way he can miss it.  When I curl my fingers slightly and brush over my sweet spot, I cry out hoarsely, ending it in a long moan.  My wetness coats my fingers as my walls starting to tremble.  Just a few more thrusts and I’ll break into a million pieces.  I can feel it building, and even at my own hands, I know it will be powerful.