“Sophie.” Her gaze comes back. “Why so shy about this?”
She sighs heavily. “I am on birth control. To regulate my period. I just didn’t want you to think I was on it because I’m a tramp.”
I can’t help it. I roar with laughter and pull her in for a hard hug, rocking her gently. Christ, she’s adorable.
When I ease my hold, I try to quiet my laugh and adopt a serious look. “Of course, I wouldn’t think that about you. Although you can be my tramp anytime you want.”
Sophie giggles, and I lean in to kiss her, a sweet reminder of how much I adore her at this moment. But her arms circle around me, and the kiss immediately flames hot.
My body immediately responds. Blood racing, breath hitched, my cock twitching. Sophie takes me in her hand and strokes me no more than three or four times, and I’m hard as a rock.
She seems excited by my response, growling low in her throat, and with her other hand, she pushes the covers off us. I close my eyes and feel the air hit my chest and stomach while her hand feels hot as hell on my dick.
Breeze touches my thighs as she kicks the covers all the way off, and almost immediately, I have an unexpected burst of self-doubt as my body is exposed to her.
I jackknife up, grabbing at the blankets. Startled, Sophie releases her hold and regards me cautiously.
With the covers bunched around my hips, Sophie leans up and plants a palm into the mattress. “What’s wrong, Baden?”
Huffing in frustration, I run my hand through my hair and finally look at her. “It’s just…”
How in the fuck do I tell her I’m unsure of myself? That I’m insecure about my lower body?
How the hell do I tell her that without offending her because I should trust it won’t make a difference?
It’s been natural over these last few weeks to nurture Sophie’s fears and doubts. It made me feel quite the man to care for her.
But her hand slides along my nape, and she dips her head so I’m forced to look at her. Her eyes bore into mine. “You’re beautiful, Baden. Every part of you is beautiful to me.”
I shake my head. “My legs… they’re not… they’re different.”
“They’re you,” she counters and tugs at the blanket gripped in my hand. I hold it tight, unwilling to give up my security.
Her hand goes lax, and I’m almost giddy with relief she’s not pushing it. At the same time, I curse myself for being such a pussy.
“It’s not fair,” she says, and those are not words I expect. My eyes fly to her. “When I had my nightmare last night, you said I had to let that guilt go. You wanted me to trust you, and I am. I’m letting it go. You need to do the same thing. You need to let go of whatever negative feelings you have about yourself, and trust in me.”
The surety in her voice makes an impact. It is about trust, and I’ve asked her to do it for me. I know deep in my gut I have to reciprocate.
My hands relax and fall away from the blanket.
“Lie down,” she murmurs, a hand going to my chest in an effort to push me back.
I’ll comply, but before I do, I grab her hand and kiss her knuckles before settling it against my breastbone to hold close to my heart. Then I release it.
I settle back onto the mattress.
I watch Sophie, hating the slight anxiety I feel as she slowly slides the blanket down my legs. Whatever hard-on I had seconds ago is gone, and my breath goes stale in my lungs as I keep my eyes on her face.
Sophie doesn’t hold back. She slowly peruses my lower half, her hand stroking my thigh, over my knee, and along the side of my calf. I don’t have to look down to know that she sees what might otherwise look like two ordinary legs. They’re pale compared to my upper body, and they lack definition. But at least they’re not skinny anymore, and I can feel her touch.
Isn’t that the most important thing? That I can feel.
She doesn’t say a word, merely brings her hand back up along the inside of my leg. She makes it to mid-thigh when my cock twitches again.
It leaps when her hand wraps around it. I lift my head and look down my body, her delicate fingers holding my shaft, which has clearly not atrophied the way my legs did. She rubs a thumb along the tip, catching the moisture there, and I groan over how good that touch feels.
“Baden,” Sophie whispers, and my eyes slide to her. “I’d be attracted to you even if your legs didn’t work. If you were in a wheelchair, I’d still want you badly. You are gorgeous just the way you are, and there isn’t any part of me that doesn’t want you.”
My breath comes out in a quavering rush of relief.
I trust her, and I believe her.
But then I think about none of that as she leans over and takes me in her mouth. Everything spins, and there’re only lips and tongue and teeth on me. I grit my teeth, wanting to prolong this, but I know it will be futile. She has me feeling too much, inside and out.
So I close my eyes and enjoy it while it lasts.
♦
Christ, my orgasm is nearly enough to induce unconsciousness, but Sophie rode me hard after teasing me with her mouth. She brought me to the brink, then slowed, time and time again. Then she lifted, straddled me, and I’d never seen anything so stunningly beautiful in my life as she sunk down onto me.
Collapsing, Sophie mutters, “Please tell me it will always be that good.”
“Better,” I rasp. Because I know damn well it will get better and better. In fact, I can’t wait for the next time and the next. I’m thinking beds will be broken and neighbors might get testy from the noise we’ll make.
At least that’s my vision for how life will be when we return to Pittsburgh.
As Sophie lies boneless on top of me, I lift my arm to check the time on my watch. I sigh with regret because we’re going to have to move soon.
I have to get down to the district attorney’s office, and I’m not sure where Sophie’s going. She’ll either head to the airport, or she’ll change her flight and go with me so we can tell our stories.
“How do you feel?” I ask, smoothing my hand along her lower back.
“Delightful,” she mumbles against my neck.
“Good,” I reply and roll her off me. I go to my elbow, hovering over her. “Because we should talk about what else we need to do so we can move on from all the bad stuff.”
Her eyes cloud over. “You mean, giving my victim impact statement.”
I nod solemnly. “That’s exactly what I mean.”
CHAPTER 23
Baden
This was not what I was expecting when Sophie and I arrived at the DA’s office. I was so proud of her decision to give her statement, and as we walked hand in hand to the courthouse, I felt her strength and confidence by the way she held my hand and in her stride.
I assured her it wouldn’t be overly stressful since we’d basically be giving our statements to the DA, who would record us and then submit video to the court at the time the plea deals were entered. We were originally told that the wheels of justice aren’t well oiled enough for any plea deals to be ironed out so quickly.
This helped Sophie decide, as she didn’t want to face a lot of people and talk about such a private part of her life.
Unfortunately, when we showed up, apparently those cogs had undergone some sort of lube job because the young prosecuting attorney, Angela DuBose, was atwitter that she was able to get Henry Camarino’s plea deal pushed through. It was set to be heard before a judge in open court.