"How do you feel about him?"
"Good question." Needy. Pathetic. Confused. Ah, man. "Maybe we should head back to Seattle, give him some space. He's got so much happening right now."
"Is this you running away?"
I gave her question a lot of thought. Or as much as possible, given the dull thumping going on in my head. "I don't think so. I just ... shit. I want to do the right thing by him but I have no idea what that is."
"Guess you better ask him."
"Yeah."
A long sigh from her. "Go back to sleep. Tomorrow we'll fix your face and your life. In that order."
I snorted. Gently.
It was good to have friends.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Sadly, only so much of your life can be fixed with a makeover.
Val and I went to breakfast at one of the cafes down the street. Care of her mad skills, my bruises were covered and my hair cunningly styled to hide the stitches. Much less Frankenstein than the day before. After much discussion, the decision had been reached. I would call Joe. The only question that remained was when?
"Now," said Val, voice strong, as we stood in the lobby of the hotel after breakfast.
"What if he's sleeping in, recuperating?" I punched my floor number in the elevator. "In a couple of hours would be better."
"You're just delaying. I know all about you, chicken shit lady."
"That's harsh."
"But true."
Unable to deny it, I shrugged.
The elevator pinged, the doors slid open. And I found myself staring at the man of my dreams. Literally. My subconscious had been worrying over the subject of him all night.
"Joe."
He sat on the floor, head hanging low, his back up against my apartment door. When I spoke he looked up, tangled blond hair sliding back from his face. Shit, if anything, he seemed worse than he had at the hospital. He looked diminished, like this whole experience had taken and taken from him. Worry bowed his shoulders, sorrow filled his eyes.
"Hey." I stepped forward, Val at my side.
"Hey," he said. Moving in slow motion, he climbed to his feet.
"It's good to see you. How are you feeling? How's your arm?"
He waved the cast in my general direction.
Silence.
I just stared at him, soaking up the sight. "It's so good to see you."
Beside me, a throat cleared. "Hi, I'm Val."
"Val." Joe gave her a flicker of a smile. "Hi. Nice to meet you."
"Good to meet you too and I'm going now," she announced, pushing the button for the elevator. It hadn't gone anywhere. The doors slid straight open and Val disappeared without another word.
Joe and I were left alone.
Funny thing about hotels, they're one of those in-between places. People are always coming and going, but no one lives there. Hallways especially seem to be both haunted by the memories of past guests and waiting for new travelers to pass through. So quiet and still, filled with the invisible eyes of security cameras, they've always freaked me out a little.
But the way Joe watched me out of the corner of his eye, like I might attack, like he maybe didn't want to be looking at me but couldn't resist, was far worse.
"Let's talk in your room," he said.
I nodded, dread weighing down my every move. Goodbye had a feeling, a scent, and Joe was covered in the shit. My moves were mechanical, emotional armor doing its best to keep me covered.
Open door, go inside, wait for him to also enter, close door and face him as best I could. Don't cry, because crying wouldn't help.
I looked at him, and he looked at me, and neither of us said a thing.
Then he moved.
A hand slid over the nape of my neck and his mouth covered mine. Tongues sliding against each other, teeth knocking. The cast on his arm pressed against my lower back, holding me to him. Heaven. Nirvana. All of these things. I clung to him, tears of relief flowing down my face. We were okay. We were fine. Sex could fix anything and I needed him so bad it hurt. Whatever it took, I'd do it for him. I wanted to kiss and stroke every inch of his big body. Show him how much he meant to me, every way I knew how. Not let him leave this room until we'd started to heal him, to put him back together again.
His good hand slid under my dress, feeling up my ass, giving it a squeeze. What a time to be wearing tights. Blue with scattered purple dots, even. I'd been in need of something loud and happy.
"Get them off," he growled.
"Yes."
I kicked off my boots and dragged down both the tights and the Little Miss Fucking Sunshine underwear. Joe's smile was all sharp teeth. My heart galloped.
"On the end of the bed, legs spread," he said.
I backed up the necessary few steps then sat on the mattress. Joe sunk to his knees. Guess we were doing oral. Everything inside of me tumbled and turned. Not particularly gently, he pushed up my denim skirt. Bruises? Sore muscles? Didn't feel a one. Nothing but pure excitement going on here.
"Heels on the edge of the mattress."
"Yes, sir." I grinned.
He groaned and nipped at my inner thigh. "Been needing to eat you."
The things he said ... everything between my hips tightened. I was most definitely good and wet.
"You should definitely follow your instincts," I said. "They're right on."
Without further ado, he dragged his tongue up the length of my slit, making my back arch. Strong arms circled my thighs, cast and hand resting on my belly. And that beard, Christ, did he know how to use it. Soft wiry bristles tickled and teased while his mouth went to work. As with everything Joe did, he did it damn well. Complete concentration, absolute dedication. He suckled the lips of my labia before slipping his tongue between them to get at the tender flesh below. The man treated my sex like a smorgasbord, he could not get enough. Fingers spread me open and he lapped at and all around my clit, making me squirm.
Fucking good. He was so fucking good and he'd barely gotten started.
Up and down he dragged his tongue, setting me alight. Every nerve ending in me was giving him its complete attention. My toes curled when he flicked his tongue back and forth across me. The sheet fisted in my hands, I held on as if gravity might give way. For sure, my mind had been flung into outer space. Kissing and licking, he left no part of me unloved. A wet thumb pad slid around and around, teasing my back entrance, opening me just a little.
It all felt so incredibly good while his arm in its cast, laid across my stomac
h, held me down. The man ground his face against me, making me pant, before flicking his tongue over and around my clit. If the man didn't suck on it soon, I might just have to kill him.
"Joe."
"Mm?"
"Please," I begged, pushing my pussy into his face.
His hot mouth covered the top of my sex and I died just a little. To feel his lips drawing on me, suckling that tight bundle of nerves. Absolute pleasure surged through me, racing up my spine, making every nerve in me riot. I came and came as he kept at me, drawing it out. Even when it got to be too much, his hold stayed strong. The man was relentless. I choked out a cry, every hair standing on end. I couldn't stop shaking, muscles jumping and my sex tight. The man owned my body.
I loved him and I hated him, and I honestly hadn't known him long enough for either. But he had me. There could be no fighting this one true fact. Joe had me, whether he wanted me or not.
All I could do was try to continue breathing. It wasn't easy. My body lay limp on the bed, legs dangling off the end of the mattress. Beneath me, the sheet clung to my skin, wet with sweat and cum. And still Joe kept his face pressed against my thigh, fingers digging into me as if he was afraid to let go. Now and then he'd press a soft kiss against my damp skin.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled.
"For what?"
"I want you to go, Alex," he said eventually. "Back to Seattle."
"Wha--"
"This isn't ... I can't do this with you right now."
"You can't do what with me right now?" Rising up on my elbows, I looked down at him in horror. Wet lips set and eyes sad. Christ, he was serious. This couldn't be happening. "You go down on me and then you dump me? Are you serious?"
Nothing.
"Joe, look at me."
He sighed.
"Is this about Star coming back to town? She's the one you talked about in that email, isn't she?" I asked, already knowing the answer. "The one you wanted to settle down with."
"It's not about Star or you," he said, face turned aside. So much guilt. "It's me."
"You mean it's the car accident," I said, voice rising in volume. "It's Nell losing the baby. It's your ex coming back to town. It's everything. You're overwhelmed, I get it."
He flinched.
"For the first time, you're not everyone's Mr. Fixit and it's messing with you. It's hurting you," I said, trying to go gentle but failing. "I understand, I do. But ending this, us, isn't the answer."
"I'm sorry."
"Joe, please."
Slowly, he got to his feet. I didn't even have the presence of mind to close my legs. After what we'd just done, like decency fucking mattered. Too many emotions warred inside of me. I didn't know who to give the microphone to, anger and frustration or love and understanding. They all had a hell of a lot to say.