No Strings
I pull up a book on my Kindle app in an attempt to read myself tired, but after I’ve read the same line no less than a dozen times, I give up and pull up my social media. I never go on it, but I need a distraction. I notice a couple of messages so I click on them and find one from Lois.
Ugh. Not exactly the distraction I was going for. I consider deleting it, but my curiosity gets the best of me. It figures she would message me on here since I blocked her and Neil after they both texted, trying to apologize.
Savy, I saw your posts, and it seems you’ve moved on and are happy. I’m hoping this will mean you are ready to forgive me. I miss you.
I roll my eyes and am about to block her when I change my mind.
Lois, yes, I forgive you. You saved me years of being in a horrible, loveless marriage by sleeping with my husband, and for that, I thank you. With that said, you and I will never be friends again. I wish you the best.
-Savannah
A bit petty? Sure… But it still feels good.
I can see when she reads it—like she was already on the app—and I quickly block her so she can’t respond. The other messages are spam, so I delete them and then log out.
I’m not sure how long I toss and turn for, but eventually, sleep must come because the next thing I know, I’m waking to a pair of strong arms encircling me from behind and the masculine scent of Ben as he kisses my bare shoulder.
“Hey,” I croak out, turning to face him. He’s still dressed in what he was wearing last night, and blackish purple circles are under his eyes. “How’s your dad?”
He shakes his head, and I tense, fearing the worst. “He’s alive,” he says, making me sag in relief. “But it’s not good. Because of the lack of oxygen to his brain, he slipped into a coma. The doctor said as of right now, it could simply be a matter of his body healing, but if he doesn’t come around in the next couple of days…” His words trail off, but he doesn’t have to say them for me to know. If he doesn’t wake up soon, it could mean never waking up.
“He’s going to wake up,” I tell him with every ounce of positive energy I can muster. “Did you see him?”
“For a few minutes. My sister was there too with Gerald. But visiting hours aren’t until eight o’clock, and because he’s in the ICU, only one person can go in, and they limit the amount of time you’re there. Nobody under eighteen.”
“I’m so sorry.” I wrap my arms around his torso. The words are so pointless and won’t change anything, but I don’t know what else to do or say.
“If he hadn’t called for help, he would be dead on his floor, and nobody would even know,” he murmurs. “I could tell something’s been wrong with him. He looked tired…I asked him about it because he’s seemed off lately, but he blew off my concerns, telling me he loves me and that he’s proud of Amalia and me. I should’ve pushed and made him go see a doctor. If I would’ve—”
“You can’t play the what-if game. It’s a waste of time.”
He nods. “I just… fuck.” His eyes turn glassy. “I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose him. He’s…” He swallows thickly.
“He’s your dad,” I finish for him. “Don’t think the worst.” I run my fingers down his cheek. “You’ll go back first thing in the morning and speak with the doctors to figure out a plan.”
Ben rolls us over so I’m on my back, and he’s hovering over me. “Thank you for bringing Brody home.” His lips brush against mine once, twice, before he deepens the kiss, his tongue caressing my own. “I need to be inside you. I need to just… fuck, I need to get lost in you for a little while.”
His tone is pleading, his eyes begging me to help him momentarily escape. He’s scared. He’s already lost his mom, and now there’s a chance he’s going to lose his father as well.
I glance over his shoulder to make sure the door is closed, and when I see it is, I reach between us and pull his dick out. With my fingers wrapped around his thick shaft, I stroke him up and down, working him until he’s nice and hard. He groans softly at my touch and dips his face, kissing along my collarbone.
As we kiss and touch, we shed our clothes, and then once Ben checks and sees that I’m wet and ready, he slides into me slowly, gently. He frames my face with his forearms and nuzzles his own into the crook of my neck, gliding in and out of me at an unhurried pace—doing exactly what he said: getting lost in me.