I had to try something, at least, because I knew Erica wasn’t going to go for my backup plan.
I stood and headed inside, running the plan through my head. I didn’t notice Erica in the living room until I stepped out of the kitchen and looked up.
She was sitting on the couch staring at a blank TV. She turned and looked at me, and I could see the uncertainty in her eyes.
“I didn’t think I’d come back,” she said.
“I’m glad you did.” I walked over and sat down next to her, but left a little space between us. “I know this is hard.”
“You don’t get it. Cosimo isn’t going to let me go, and sticking around with you— it’s only going to get you killed.”
I smiled a little bit and shook my head. “You know what I thought when my sister got married?”
She looked a little surprised. “No, I don’t.”
“I was happy she’d be someone else’s problem.” I gave a bitter laugh at the memory. “I was deep in med school at the time and barely had time to watch over her anymore, and I was relieved that she was going to move in with her husband and he could help take care of her— or she could learn to take care of herself. I was relieved that she was moving in with her abuser.”
“You didn’t know he was abusive,” she said.
“True, but still, I should’ve seen it. There were signs, even early on. I don’t think he got physically abusive until later, but there were signs.”
“Come on, Gavin. If you had known, you would’ve done something.”
I nodded, staring into her eyes, and reached out to take her hand. “So you understand then.”
“Understand what?” She looked slightly bewildered as I touched her palm then held her fingers to my mouth. I kissed them, brushing my lips against her knuckles.
“I have to do something.” I tugged her toward me. She leaned over as I leaned down and kissed her softly. “I know about what’s happening with you. I’ve seen it up close. I can’t walk away. I have to do something.”
“I’m not your sister.”
I smiled slightly. “Yeah, and that’s a good thing.”
She laughed despite herself. “I’m serious. You don’t owe me anything. I’m a total stranger to you.”
“Maybe you were at first, but you’re not anymore.” I touched the ring on her finger. “You’re my wife now.”
“That’s not real.”
“It’s as real as we want it to be.”
I kissed it again, and although she might’ve tried to argue with me, I didn’t let her. I pushed her back against the couch and pinned her there, pressing her down with my body, feeling her warmth beneath me. I wanted her so badly it hurt, and my heart raced wildly as I kissed her and she wrapped her legs around me, moving her hips, moaning as my tongue rolled against hers. She smelled like soap and shampoo, and her skin was so soft as I kissed her neck, her throat, held her hands above her head, her breasts raising up, her belly button peeking out from under her thin gray t-shirt.
I moved down and pulled up the hem of her shirt. Her breasts spilled out and I palmed them, kissed her nipples, teased her, slipped another hand down the front of her black yoga pants. She moaned and rolled her hips, and I was wild with need, wild with desire as I felt her soaking spot, her dripping warmth. I teased her with my fingers and kissed her, licking a hard, pink nipple before drinking her lips in again, moving my fingers along her, driving her wild.
Every moan she made, every time she moved, I knew what I had to do. I knew I couldn’t stop this—knew I couldn’t back down no matter what happened. It didn’t scare me, although it should have, but I was used to high stakes. I was a doctor, damn it, and life and death were a part of my daily existence. Patients lived, patients died, and I kept going, a soldier against death, a soldier destined to fight for the living.
She was mine and she was worth fighting for.
I tugged down her yoga pants, revealed her pink pussy, glimmering for me. I pushed her legs open and licked her, sucked her, rolled my tongue around her swollen clit. Her breasts bounced with every moan and gasp and it drove me wild. I reached up and teased them with one hand while the other slipped fingers inside.
I pushed her and tasted her, took her with my tongue and fingers, drove her wild. I wanted to fuck her—wanted to slide myself between her legs and feel her warmth wrap around me—but I didn’t think she was ready, not yet. She needed more time, needed more convincing, and I was a patient man.