Sixteen
Emerson
“Saint, I am not damn bedridden. And I can damn sure at least shop for furniture for your house online!” I say to his back. I’ve been to the doctor twice in the past few days. While, yes, he said rest would be the best, he didn’t say bedrest.
“Emerson, just give me a few more days, please.” Saint turns around. He just got out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist, drops of water sliding down his muscular chest. I hear the almost desperation in his voice. The laptop is next to me on the bed, and as badly as I want to give in to him, I have a feeling if I keep allowing it, I’ll never leave this bed, and he’ll never do so much as go to the grocery store.
“I can’t do that. I’m fine staying with you. Hell, I’ve become spoiled with sleeping next to you every night even if you won’t let me have my wicked way with you. But I can’t stand being in this bed any longer. I’ll have bed sores before too long,” I end on a joke.
“What is it you do want?” Saint’s hands are on his hips, in 'the he means business’ stance.
“Well besides you and me naked in bed at any time of the day? Maybe that will keep me in bed.” I wiggle my eyebrows while walking towards him. I’m in nothing but his gray shirt, emblazoned with ARMY in capital letters. It’s soft from years of washing, and I’ve practically lived in his clothes lately.
“You heard the doctor, sweetheart. Nothing too jarring, or that could knock you off balance. Though, maybe tying you to the bed won’t be such a bad idea.” He’s said that so many times. I’m waiting for him to take action.
“Promises, promises. Seriously, though, can we compromise? I hate being up here all the time. You waiting on me hand and foot.” Sure, I love the views, but I really want to be downstairs throughout the day too.
“What do you have in mind?” Saint’s hands tug at my sides, pulling me in closer.
“How about I get to actually move around the house? I’ll stay off the stairs unless you’re around, and I don’t know, how about we go for a walk, fish out back? Plus, you’ve said it yourself. Cruz and Luna want to come over, your parents will be down in two weeks, and look at this place. We’ve barely scratched the surface. We can order most of the stuff, but there’s still so much furniture we need.” In the past week, we’ve talked about everything and anything. Including marriage. He even said the only way I’m leaving the house is if we’re going to the courthouse to get married. I laughed, but he was serious, and that solidified that Saint and I are right for each other. We may have only known each other a little over a week. Call it kismet, fate, or whatever else. Saint is mine, and I’m his. We talked about children. I want two, he wants four. I see a compromise in our future on that too.
“We can do that, but you’re still recovering from a concussion, so anytime you start to feel sluggish, your ass is in bed, you hear me?” My hands travel to his shoulders, feeling his heated skin. It never gets old, and I’ve yet to still get my hands all over his body. But the minute I’m released from the doctor’s care, that is definitely going to happen.
“I hear you. Now, I’m going to grab a shower, get dressed, and if the back deck furniture arrived, that’s where I’ll be. You want me to holler for you when I’m ready to go downstairs?”
“Nope, I’m getting back in the shower with you instead. You want to do more, I’ll let that happen.” The ruggedness in his tone and the thought of showering with him, both of us wet and naked, cause my legs to rub together, needing to feel him inside me again.
“Yes, let’s go!” I step away from him, whisk his shirt off my body.
“Fuck, this may backfire on me,” I hear him grumble, but I’m on a mission, and that’s to see just how much I can tempt Saint today.
Seventeen
Saint
This wasn’t my smartest idea. Nope, not at all. I’m sitting on the built-in seat in the shower, watching her give me the performance of a lifetime. Her hands are rubbing all over her body, soap lingering on her skin, head tipped back as the water soaks her hair, and when she brings up her fingers and starts pulling at her nipples, well, let’s just say my hand found my cock, lazily stroking it. “Rinse off, Emerson,” I demand. She looks at me, realizing what I’m doing, and my gaze doesn’t leave hers as she does exactly what I said. Yeah, when my woman gets better, we’ll be trying out a few things too.