Priceless (Forbidden Men 8)
Instead of sharing my joy, he surged to his feet, his hands fisting at his sides and his eyes flaring with rage. “Those fucking bastards! They misdosed you?”
My smile slipped. “I thought you’d be happier.”
“Happy?” He gripped his head and paced my room. “Are you crazy? They almost killed you. We need to sue their fucking asses.”
Grinning, I waved an unconcerned hand. “Don’t worry. Mason and Reese are already on top of all that.”
Turning to me slowly, he stared, his mouth gaping with shock. “You could’ve died. Why the hell are you so chipper?”
“Because...” I lifted my eyebrows and sent him a meaningful glance. “This means nothing you and I did in this bed caused my stroke.”
Frowning, he opened his mouth to argue. But a second later, he blinked and pressed his lips together. Then he breathed, “Holy shit.” Hope filled his eyes as he flashed his gaze to me. “You’re right.”
I laughed and clasped my hands together. “Does this mean you’ll have sex with me again?”
He hesitated, his smile freezing. “I don’t...I don’t know. Jesus, Sarah, you’re still recovering. This can’t... Are you sure you’re—”
“I am absolutely one hundred percent positive nothing we did triggered my stroke.”
Indecision—but mostly temptation—clouded his face. He returned to me, sitting next to me on the bed. “But aren’t you still at risk? How long is this overdose going to put you in danger?”
I grabbed the front of his shirt and hauled him close. “It’s been fifteen days since you were last inside me. I’m not waiting any longer.” I leaned in until my breath washed across his lips. “Now kiss me.”
His gaze heated as he scanned my face. Then he licked his lips as he focused on my mouth. “Damn, that was hot.”
“Then kiss me already.” When I tried to tug him forward more, however, he resisted. Our faces were only inches apart as he cupped my cheeks.
“Sarah, I refuse to do anything to hurt you.”
“Cock deprivation—especially deprivation from your cock—is a very serious offense. That could hurt me.”
He laughed, only to follow it with a groan as he pressed his forehead to mine. “Baby, I want you so bad I ache, but—”
“No buts. I’m fine. I can feel what’s going on inside me better than anyone else, and I...have...recovered. N
ow let me prove it to you.”
I fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, needing it open so I could touch his chest. But he caught my fingers. “No. Sarah...no!”
He surged off the bed, lifting his hands as he backed away from me.
“Brandt,” I growled, gritting my teeth. “You have never once in your life let my cerebral palsy come between us. Don’t let it now.”
“That’s not what I’m doing.” Hugging himself, he shook his head and backed a few more feet away from me. “I’m scared,” he whispered, his face going red. “I’m so fucking scared. You didn’t see what it did to you. You had no idea what I went through, helplessly watching you seize up and have a fucking stroke. I can’t...I just can’t risk that again.”
“Baby.” I held my hand out toward him. “It’ll be okay. I’m right here with you. We’ll do this together, slow and easy the first time. You’ll see. It’ll be fine.”
“Don’t fucking push me, Sarah. I said no.”
“God...dammit,” I muttered, balling my good hand into a fist. “You are so fucking stubborn. I wish I had a pair of sharp, pointy tongs to chuck right at your head.”
He blinked and crinkled his brow. “Tongs?”
“I don’t know!” I railed, losing my temper. “Just...it’s the first thing that came to my mind. Now get out. Get out of my fucking room. If you’re too much of a pussy who can’t even try to have the most amazing relationship you know we could have, then get the fuck out, and don’t ever come back.”
“Whoa.” He lifted his hands, and his eyebrows spiked up under his hairline. “Okay, you’re being totally irrational right now. I’ll be back when you calm down.”
“I said don’t come back!” I yelled at his back as he turned toward the door and fled the room. “Dammit.”