When Sparks Fly

I can finally wear my nice panties again without destroying the elastic in the left leg. I’m currently standing in my bedroom, naked, riffling through my underwear drawer in search of my favorite pretty panties.

This afternoon Declan is taking me to Spark House so I can put in a few hours of work on-site. And I’m going to drive part of the way. It’s a first, and I’m excited yet still nervous.

“Hey, Ave, what time were you thinking you wanted to head over to Spark House? Maybe we can stop and grab lunch on the way. It’s pretty nice out, we could sit on a patio, get some sun on that pasty, skinny arm of yours.” Declan pushes my door open, eyes trained on the phone in his hand.

He’s been ultra-attentive the past couple of days. Hovery even. “I just have to get dressed and maybe put on some makeup.”

“Cool.” His gaze lifts, and his device clatters to the floor. “Oh, hey.” His eyes roam over my naked form in a hungry, feral sweep. “You want some help with that?”

I smirk. “I should be able to manage on my own.”

“Right. Yeah.” He leans against the doorjamb, not bothering to pick up his phone. “Maybe I’ll just supervise then, in case you need my input on what to wear for your first day back.”

I turn back to my dresser, a small smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. “Is ‘supervising’ the new term for staring at my ass?”

“It’s a great ass. The whole package is pretty fucking awesome really.” He pushes off the jamb and crosses the room.

I meet his hot, questioning gaze in the mirror. He pulls my hair over my shoulder and drops his head, lips brushing from my shoulder blade all the way up the side of my neck. He takes my lobe between his teeth, nipping gently, causing a wave of goose bumps to flash across my skin. “How much time do you have before you have to leave?” His free hand wraps around my waist, and he steps into me, his chest pressing against my back. He drops his gaze so I can’t see the vulnerability lurking there, but I hear it in his voice.

“I didn’t give a specific time.” I tip my head farther to the side, giving him more access to my neck.

“Hmm.” His hand glides up over my stomach, fingertips skimming the swell of my breast, over my clavicle, and along my throat until he cups my chin in his palm. “Interested in fooling around?”

His lips brush along the edge of my jaw, and I turn to meet his mouth. “I’m definitely interested,” I whisper.

Something shifts between us, and it makes my stomach knot as his tongue slips past my lips. I lean into him, glad I still have the support of my crutches to keep me upright.

Declan keeps his arm wound around my waist and lifts me so my feet hover inches from the floor. My crutches slip out from under my arms and clatter. Lips still melded, he carries me to the bed. Our mouths disconnect long enough for him to spin me around and set me on the edge of mattress.

The bed is still unmade, sheets a tangled mess from my restless sleep. I brace most of my weight on my left arm, so much stronger after weeks of supporting my weight, and gingerly drop to my elbow with the right one. It aches, the muscles unaccustomed to bearing my weight, but I’m determined to pull myself up to the pillows on my own, and Declan knows that.

I lie back as he pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it on the floor. He makes quick work of his sweats, leaving him in a pair of boxer briefs, his erection straining against the black cotton.

He climbs up onto the bed and stretches out beside me. It’s become automatic for him to lie on my right side, but now that I have both arms again and my cast only comes up to my knee instead of all the way up my thigh, he doesn’t have to be quite so careful.

Over the weeks since we started down this path, I find myself craving him more. I want the closeness being intimate like this brings. I love the way my heart pounds and my stomach flutters every time he looks at me with desire in his eyes.

It’s not just the way he makes me feel—so revered, the center of his world—but the feelings he evokes in me. Being with Declan is easy, like breathing. He seems to be able to anticipate my every need, and I love that it’s the same for me with him. I know what turns him on, which buttons to push, and how to make him lose control.

He shifts from his place beside me and carefully settles into the cradle of my hips as we kiss, and I push his boxer briefs down, wrapping my leg around his waist, luxuriating in the weight of his body pressing me into the mattress.