We had no idea at the time that it would come right back to meet us where it all started to begin with.
In our very home.
Chapter Sixteen
Shy
It turned out that Joss was right. I felt like crap for a full week. The headache would come and go along with the random nausea that made it hard to eat, no matter what amazing concoction Eddie whipped up in the kitchen. The worst of it, for me, though, was the dizziness. I barely got out of bed the first few days because of it. And since it had been the strangest, most stressful, craziest few weeks of my entire life, I figured I earned a couple days in bed.
It didn't hurt that I got to have McCoy right there with me a lot of the time.
I don't know if you've ever been catered to by a man, but let me tell you, it is a worthwhile experience. Especially because, whether it was right or wrong, you didn't expect it of the men in your life.
Belle? Yes. I expected and was not disappointed by her ever-present face, bringing me drinks and small snacks she thought I could handle, doing my laundry, even giving me a full pedicure one day.
But the first time McCoy brought me a tray of food and a warm blanket from the dryer? I nearly swooned.
This man did everything for me for the first several days. He brought me food. He helped me shower when it didn't seem like I could do the task alone. He gave me pain meds when the headache was too much. He massaged my feet and let me pick the shows. Did he hold his tongue when the shows and movies I picked were completely absurd and not his taste at all? No, no he did not. Because that was McCoy. Good and kind and true. But honest and blunt and no-holds-barred.
It was that unique combination that I fell for.
"You're milking this," McCoy said on what had to be day eight or nine. I was losing track. It was the first time in my life since I was sixteen years old that I didn't have to get up and get to work every single day. I was just letting myself enjoy the extended vacation.
"Maybe a little," I admitted with a smile as he dropped the laundry basket onto the chair near the bed.
"You can't stay in bed forever," he added, coming up beside it.
"Well, I could. If you came in it with me," I said, shooting him a saucy smile.
To be honest, we hadn't done anything since before I'd been taken. The first few days when any movement made me feel like I was going to vomit, well, it was clearly out of the question. After that, we just kind of were enjoying talking and spending time together. A different kind of intimacy. A no less important kind.
But with the side effects of the concussion truly starting to wear off, I had to admit that I was more than ready to make up for lost time.
"Babe, you can't," McCoy insisted, though it looked like it was killing him to say that.
"Well, which one is it? Am I too hurt to, or am I milking it, and should get out of bed?" I asked. "It can't be both," I added, sliding down on the bed, and making sure the movement caused his tee that I was wearing to slip up, exposing most of my thighs.
"Shy..."
"Well, if you don't think it's a good idea..." I said, rolling over onto my stomach, and cocking my leg up at an angle on the mattress as the tee went completely up and over my ass, giving him an eyeful of, well, everything since I didn't have a lot of clothes at the clubhouse to begin with, and all my panties were in that laundry basket he'd just brought up. "I guess I can just get some sleep then."
I barely got the words out before a low rumble moved through him as his hand grabbed my ass cheek, giving it a squeeze then a jiggle before he reached up, lifting off his shirt.
Desire was a pressure on my lower stomach, a fluttering sensation between my thighs.
My greedy gaze slid up his abs, his chest, feeling the need spark off every nerve ending, creating wildfires across my skin until my eyes finally landed on his face, finding the same hunger I felt inside reflected in his gaze.
McCoy's lips twitched, knowing the impact he was having as his hands went to his waistband, working his button and zipper free. My gaze followed every movement of his fingers as he slipped down his pants and boxers, as he reached down to grab his thick cock.
"Get over here," he demanded, voice rough.
I took a second to enjoy the little belly shiver at his demand before pushing up onto all fours and crawling toward the edge of the bed, then swung my legs over the edge of the bed, so I could drop down on my ass.