Chapter Sixteen #2
My chest swells with pride knowing that I did this.
I brought about this amazing sight before me.
She opened up to me in the most vulnerable of ways, something she has only ever done with Marcus before.
I honestly could give a shit less about my own throbbing situation right now because knowing I’ve just taken this step with her is easily a thousand times more gratifying than whether or not I go to sleep tonight with blue balls.
I make a show of licking the last of her arousal from my lips, savoring the sweet reward, before I shimmy up and kiss her.
“Thank you,” she sighs when we break apart.
“Oh, please,” I sign, grinning wickedly. “The pleasure was entirely all mine.”
I find her shorts and help her change back into them. Then, I sit up and unzip the tent. Once I crawl out, I hold my hand out for her.
Her brows pinch in confusion.
“I’m going to walk you to the bathrooms,” I tell her.
“Oh. Uh, right. I should probably go after—you know.”
I nod. “I’m not letting you go by yourself.”
“You don’t have to come with me…”
“I know I don’t. I know you can handle yourself. But I want to.”
“You guys and your insistence on aftercare,” she huffs pretending to be annoyed but there is no actual heat behind it.
“Must mean you have a type you go for,” I tease back.
“Oh yeah? And what type would that be, the kind that doesn’t seem to understand that I can take care of myself?” she jeers, clasping my hand and crawling out of the tent.
Once standing, I sign to her, “No, you go for green-flag gentlemen. The kind that know you’re perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, but the ones who would rather you let them show you what affection really is.”
She chuckles at first, her eyes flitting between mine. Then, she nods, her demeanor softening. “Yeah, I guess you’re right about that.”
She clears her throat. “Don’t you want me to take care of that?” she whispers, nodding at the obvious bulge in my pants.
I reach down and tuck my cock behind my waistband. “I’m fine, baby. Seriously. The expectation was never that this was a tit-for-tat scenario.”
“But—”
“But nothing,” I reply. “Stop fretting. I promise you that I am one hundred percent okay.”
I lean in and kiss her forehead. When she sucks in a breath and shivers slightly, I don’t miss an opportunity to get her into my hoodie again.
Seeing her wear it on our first date was stunning, but watching her slipping it on again—deeply inhaling the fabric as she does—floods me with a feeling of what I can only describe as giddiness.
It sates some sort of primal uproaring within me that thrives on seeing her wear something of mine, like I’m staking a claim on her in some minute way, even though I know, deep down, this woman is too untamed to ever be owned by anyone.
Truthfully, I think that’s what I love the most about her—at least, so far.
There is no mine or his when it comes to Lauren; she’s a total free-spirit.
The fact that I’m even allowed to be within her orbit is something of a miracle in and of itself.
What she sees in a man like me, I have no idea, but I’m not about to take that for granted.
“Shall we?” I ask her, gesturing towards the path that leads to the bathrooms.
“We shall…” She grins and takes my hand in hers.
Since there are still some other campers using the facilities for showering and getting ready for bed, we don’t want to spend too much time up at the bathhouses.
Having finished up before her, I sit on the nearby rock wall and patiently wait for her to emerge from the women’s side.
When she doesn’t make an immediate appearance, I start to worry a little that perhaps the adrenaline of what she’d just allowed has worn off, and maybe her insecurities are starting to creep back in.
Hell, my own are bubbling up from the murky depths of my own soul. What on earth gives me the right to be chasing such things—love and adoration, not just of the carnal variety—when I’ve made promises—no, taken vows—to always cherish another… in sickness and in health.
My heart stutters in my chest, the heavy weight of grief and shame settles on my shoulders, sending a tinge of pain right to that knot between my shoulder blades—that ever-present ache that constantly flares up at the worst possible time, whenever I’m feeling low.
I roll my shoulders, hoping to alleviate that wrenching sensation, but the more I sit here and stew in my own guilt, the more it flares.
Suddenly, a soft touch startles me out of my shitty headspace. “Are you okay?” Lauren asks, dipping her head to look me in the eye as her hand rubs soothing circles on the space that had just been aching.
I nod. “I’m okay,” I reply, sighing.
She’s unconvinced, however. Her narrowed gaze is a dead giveaway. “You’re full of shit.” She sits down next to me, the heel of her palm kneading into the knot harder.
I don’t want to make this about me; I really don’t. She’s had this giant breakthrough tonight, and my burdens shouldn’t take precedence. I never want to be an anchor to Lauren, weighing her down.
“You know,” she hums thoughtfully, “I’ve been going to quite a few of your PT appointments now, and while I’m not a medical professional by any stretch of the imagination, I do notice that the days you tell Dr. Bruckheimer your pain level is higher are the ones immediately following when you’ve brought up the topic of your ongoing stressors regarding your lack of ability to care for Aaron… ”
She rubs the knot harder, but it feels good. She works at it with just enough force to help loosen the tightness, but it’s not too much. Her tender touch is so vastly dissimilar to that of Torture Thumbs Bruckheimer, I find myself leaning back into it as I contemplate what she’s just said.
She continues, leaning in and resting her chin on my shoulder. “Is there any chance that the pain could be a physical manifestation of your mental suffering?”
Fuck, could that be what’s been going on all this time?
The burden I bear over Aaron’s condition and my being cut out of his life…
has that taken an actual toll on my own body?
Is that why no amount of doctor’s appointments and new therapies I’ve tried have ever come close to touching the pain, when it’s there?
“Maybe,” I admit, sitting up straighter. “It’s definitely a possibility.”