Chapter Fourteen
EFFA
It’s nerve-wracking waiting for the call to be patched through to Dr. Wakefield.
Another hot flash isn’t ideal. The headaches are still there too, constant even when they dip in severity.
And then there are the other things. The subtle shifts in my body I haven’t mentioned to Mercs.
He carries so much already, and adding this to his load won’t change anything except the weight on his shoulders.
I’ll tell the doctor, and if I have to go in, I will. I already know this is where it’s heading.
Mercs pacing the room is not helping my nerves, so I cover the cell and glare at him. “Will you sit down?”
He pauses mid-stride, brows pulling together before he nods and comes back to the bed. He sits beside me, his hand immediately finding mine, thumb tracing slow circles over my skin.
The line clicks.
“Vespa,” Dr. Wakefield says warmly. “I was hoping not to hear from you until your next appointment. Are you having more symptoms?”
“Hi, Dr. Wakefield… yeah. I was hoping not to call, but I had another hot flash today.”
A quiet hum. A breath. “And the headaches?”
“Still there. They fluctuate, but they haven’t stopped.”
“Okay. Any other changes you’ve noticed?”
I hesitate.
Mercs is watching me closely, reading every flicker of expression on my face.
“I think I’ve lost a little weight,” I admit carefully. “Not intentionally. But my face looks… fuller? Which makes no sense if I’m losing weight.”
Beside me, Mercs’ body goes still while his gaze sweeps over me, assessing.
I hate that he’s finding out this way, that there is something else, but I am not saying it with him sitting right here.
“Have you experienced fatigue? Decreased appetite? Lowered libido?” the doctor asks.
Relief floods me that Mercs can’t hear his side.
“Yes, all of that.”
I’ve been acting normal. Acting like I feel normal. Even teasing Mercs earlier because I’m scared that I don’t feel the way I should. It’s not him. God, it’s not him. One look at him and my pulse jumps. But my body feels… delayed, slower, and less responsive.
That terrifies me.
If I tell him that, he’ll twist it into something it’s not, like thinking I don’t want him. And that couldn’t be further from the truth.
“Vespa,” the doctor says gently. “I’d like you back here for tests. I’m not comfortable leaving this without running bloodwork.”
I nod, even though the doctor can’t see me. “When would you like us in Pittsburgh?”
“Monday morning, eight forty-five. We’ll run everything, and I’ll rush the results. I should have answers by Tuesday.”
A small wave of relief washes through me. Action feels better than waiting.
“Thank you. I really appreciate you fitting me in.”
“My pleasure. In the meantime, try flaxseed supplements for the hot flashes.”
“Flaxseed. Okay. Got it. We’ll see you Monday.”
“Take care, Vespa.”
“You too. Bye.” I end the call and look at Mercs.
He’s cracking his neck slowly, eyes narrowed. “You didn’t tell me you were losing weight.”
“It’s not much,” I say softly. “Probably nothing. Please don’t worry.”
I lean in and kiss him, gentle and reassuring, but his smile is weak.
“So Monday,” he says. “We go back to Pittsburgh.”
“Yeah. And we’ll probably need to stay a couple of days. Results Tuesday…” I hesitate. “If you want to stay here with Kiera for her chemo, I understand.”
He runs a hand through his hair and looks away.
I don’t let him retreat, so I grab his arm and pull it down so he has to look at me. “Hey. I can take Alana. I’ll be fine.”
He shakes his head. “No, she’s had chemo before. We’ll only be gone a day or two. Gran can handle things. I want to know what’s happening with you. Pittsburgh’s only an hour away. If I need to get back, I will.”
“Only if you’re sure, because I am not asking you to choose between us.”
His arms slide around me.
“I know, that’s why I’m coming. I need to be with you for this. Then I’ll be with Kiera. I’ll divide myself evenly.”
He tries to smile, but there’s strain there—fatigue—and the weight of everything pressing down.
He’s had a brutal day.
And instead of adding to it, I decide to remind him of something steady.
Me.
I stand and step in front of him. His gaze lifts as I move between his knees and settle onto his lap. His hands instinctively come to my back.
“You know you’re one of the strongest men I’ve ever met?” I tell him.
“I don’t always feel like it.”
I cup his face, forcing him to look at me. “You’re levelheaded, loyal, compassionate, and when it comes to the women you love, you go a little overboard. But that’s because you care. You love with everything you have, and that’s rare.”
His mouth curves slightly.
“Growing up around women…” he says quietly, “… makes you appreciate them. Makes you appreciate you.”
“Don’t let Shane or Jett get inside your head. Don’t let them steer your life. This is us. No one else gets a vote. Don’t let the past run your future.”
His eyes soften, something settling in them. “I know I can be overbearing,” he admits.
“You can,” I tease gently. “But we’re big girls. We can handle ourselves. And I’m yours, Kaden Mercury.”
I lean in and kiss him, and he kisses me back, slow at first, then deeper.
And for a moment, the fear of Monday fades.
My tongue slides into his open mouth, dancing, caressing, gliding effortlessly in a precise rhythm as I grind my pussy down onto his cock. His hands tighten into the muscles of my back, one sliding down toward my ass, the other up into my hair.
The kiss deepens, and I feel it, a slow, warm flicker of heat building between my legs that I haven’t felt in weeks. Since the coma, the urge has been muted. Dulled. I’ve wanted it, craved the closeness, but that primal need to tear Mercs’ clothes off hasn’t burned the way it used to.
And it isn’t him.
One look at this man still turns my knees to liquid.
It’s all me.
But right now, kissing him like this, grinding down on him, feeling him harden beneath me, I’m coming back to life. I feel like myself again. I couldn’t be happier in this moment, and I kiss him harder, letting him know exactly where I want this to go.
My hands pull from his hair and drop to the hem of my tunic.
I yank it up and over my head, breaking us apart for just a second.
His eyes rake over me, dark and hooded, while I reach down and strip off my shoestring singlet top, leaving me in my bra and harem pants.
His rough hands land on my skin, and I bite my bottom lip, loving the way they feel, the weight of them, the warmth.
He takes a slow breath and leans in, lips finding my collarbone.
I reach behind myself, undo my bra without hesitation, and fling it somewhere behind me.
His mouth travels lower, licking, nipping, before he draws my nipple between his lips.
His teeth graze the bud, and he sucks hard.
My back arches off his chest, a moan slipping free before I can catch it.
My sex drive might be quieter than before, but the moment he touches me, it sparks right back up. Every nerve ending wakes.
I’m so damn grateful for that right now.
He lets my nipple free with a soft pop and brings his face up to mine, fingers taking over, rolling, pinching, working the perfect pressure. “What happened to us not doing anything under Gran’s roof?” he asks, his lips grazing my neck.
I shrug, leaning into him. “If we’re going to be here for two months, I need to get over that. Right?”
He chuckles, his mouth moving to the other side of my neck, teeth grazing along my skin. “Damn right. But you never asked the doctor whether sex was okay.”
I groan and press down harder onto him, feeling him shift beneath me with a sharp inhale.
He groans too, low, frustrated, and wanting, his hands dropping to my ass.
Then he lifts me, spinning us around, and I barely have time to grip him before he flings me down onto the bed and settles between my legs.
He leans in close enough that his breath tickles my nose.
“Do you really want to stop right now?” My voice comes out breathless. “I’m fine, Kaden. Please. Fuck me.”
He groans, half satisfaction, half resignation, grinding into my aching pussy.
His hands find my back, pulling me in as he leans down and presses a brief, firm kiss to my lips, then pulls back to kneel upright.
“Fine. But we do this my way. No arguments.” His voice drops to a low, commanding tone. “Now turn over.”
I grin wide and scramble to comply, flipping over as he strips off his shirt.
He moves behind me immediately, fingers hooking into the waistband of my pants and yanking my ass up in one smooth pull.
My knees fly up to the mattress, and I giggle as he drags my harem pants and G-string down in one swift motion, taking my ballet flats with them, until I’m bare.
He steps back off the edge of the bed, and I stay where he left me, knees on the mattress, weight on my elbows, head down, ass in the air, while he strips off the rest of his clothes and walks to the door to lock it. I smile to myself.
Kiera’s here.
Gran likely is too by now.
We’ll have to keep quiet.
He moves back to the bed, standing over me, and I can feel his gaze like heat on my skin.
“Fucking hell,” he breathes, shaking his head slowly.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous like this.” His hands take hold of my ass in a firm, deliberate grip, squeezing before one hand trails down the back of my thigh.
Slow, teasing, barely touching, and my breath picks up immediately.
His fingers edge inward, creeping closer to my center, and I’m already aching by the time he gets near.
He skims the edge of my folds, and I rock back instinctively.
A sharp slap lands on my ass.
The sting reverberates through my cheek in a wave of pleasurable pain. I jolt and look back at him, smirking.
He grins back, utterly unrepentant. “We’re doing this my way. Don’t rush me, Effa.”