Slow Grind (Men of Mornington)

“Aubrey Rosewood. Max’s sister.”

“I’ve just finished explaining to your mother that Max has pneumonia in both lungs. We’ve started him on IV antibiotics. He should be fine, but we’ll need to keep him in for a few days. He’ll be admitted into the I.C.U until the infection clears, then he’ll be moved to the general floor. Even with the circumstances, there isn’t much reason to worry at this point. This is pretty typical.” Max’s doctor is really nice, seeing as he gave me information he wasn’t required to give me over the phone—actually, he could probably get in trouble, but he must have sensed my unease.

“Okay, thank you.” I hang up. I should be feeling relieved, but I’m not. Because he’s not fine. For anyone else, getting over pneumonia means getting back to your life. Not for Max, though. He’s still sick. This might not kill him, but the cancer probably will.

I should be in there with him. If Mum can sit there all night, then I should, too. I quickly get dressed in my clothes from the night before, a surge of anger racing through me. I’m angry at Drew for making me leave. I’m angry at Mum for going in there. I’m angry at myself for feeling so damn useless when it comes to helping Max. Because I can’t help him. I’m his sister, his flesh and blood, and all I can do is sit by and watch him die.

Someone gently taps on the door. Wiping away tears, I look up and see Drew. He smiles sympathetically at me. I don’t need his pity. I don’t need anything from him.

“I thought I heard you moving around in here. You okay?”

“I should be down there with Max,” I mutter. I shove past him, walking swiftly down the hallway to the front door. Drew grabs hold of my arm, spinning me around. “What are you doing?” I ask, annoyed.

“Trying to figure out what is wrong with you. Have you spoken to the hospital?”

“Yes,” I huff. “He’s going to be okay. They’ve got him on antibiotics. They said he’ll be out in a few days.”

“Then that’s good, isn’t it?” Drew asks, confused.

“Of course it is…” My voice trails off because I have no idea how to explain what I’m feeling. Hell, I can’t even figure it out myself, let alone put it into words.

“Aubs, talk to me,” Drew says, his voice soft. His fingers lace through mine. My heart races as my thoughts cloud even more.

“Why?” I cry out, laughing through my tears. “What is the point? What’s the point in any of this? Everything is a mess. Max is sick, my mother is a bitch, and all I can think about is you—” I stop, wishing I could reach out and take back those words. But I can’t. Drew stares at me intently, not saying anything. The more the silence goes on, the more I just want to run out of there.

“Aubs…”

“Just don’t,” I whisper. “Just let me go. Please.”

“I wish I could,” he mutters. He pulls me closer, wrapping his arms around my waist. My heart flutters as his eyes meet mine.

I take the final step, putting our bodies together, and I look up into his ice-blue eyes. “You can let me go if you want. Nobody’s forcing you to hold on,” I whisper.

“You know damn well this is it, Aubs. I can’t go back. You’re it.”

“I’m sure you say that to all the girls,” I muse and start doubting myself again. I really need to stop doing that. The worst part about it? It’s only with Drew. Everywhere else, the confidence oozes out of my pores. He makes me weak, and I hate being weak.

“Aubrey, seriously. I say this to nobody. I’ve done my fair share of shit over the years, and you’re the only woman I’ve wanted for more than just a quick fuck. You’re you, and I’m me.”

“We’ve always been that, Drew. What makes now so much different?” I desperately try to avoid the stare he’s casting down on me basically telling me he’s mine for the taking. I wish I could try to hide the attraction, but there’s no use.

“You’re not Max’s kid sister. You’re not the brat running around with Emma giving me batty eyes for days. You’re a strong, beautiful, dead-sexy woman, and I’d be a fucking fool not to notice. We’re not kids anymore, Aubs.”

“Yeah,” I whisper huskily, my voice giving me away. “What do you plan on doing about it?”

“This,” he says, then sensually presses his lips to mine and softly kisses me. “Tell me to stop and I will.”

Instead of verbally responding, I lick the seam of his lips and push my hands into his hair, finally brazen enough to take matters into my own hands. He’s given me my out—my chance to run—but all I want is him.

Drew, eager and ready, grips me by the backs of my thighs and hoists me up his waist, carrying me back into the bedroom. He sets me gently on the bed and casually pulls off his shirt, tossing it in the direction of the bathroom. Regaining the confidence I have deep down

, I push his sleep pants down his legs, letting them pool at his feet. My heart races as my fingers trace his girth. I’d known he was well-endowed, but I had no idea he was packing this.

As I’m ready to take him in my mouth—because there’s only one thing to really do when a dick is level with your face—he pushes me backward and peels the leggings off my body, revealing me naked underneath.

“God damn,” he groans and drops to his knees. I push myself up on my elbows, ready to take in all the sights. Drew starts at my calf and slowly kisses his way up my leg, to my thigh, to my ...

“Oh, God!” I gasp as his tongue grazes my most sensitive flesh.