Sugar on the Edge (29 page)

I refused the handshake, crawled on the bed, and nuzzled my face in her neck. “Take care of yourself, Sweet.”

She sighed, stroked my hair, and murmured, “You too, Filthy.”

I called her yesterday. She had indeed not gotten any better and, as promised, went to the doctor. She sounded horrible but managed to tell me that he put her on some antibiotics and gave her a kick-ass cough syrup that she thought might have caused her to hallucinate that pink elephants were trampling through her room. I, of course, didn’t think that was funny and almost got on a plane right then and there to rush home to her, but she laughed softly into the phone, then hacked up another lung, and assured me she was fine.

As I was getting on the plane to come back this morning, she had texted me to tell me that she had to go work at The Haven because Jimmy, the guy that normally covered the Saturdays, was sick.

I texted her back with a pointed reminder,
You’re sick too. Stay in bed.

I’m not as sick as Jimmy. Plus, I feel better today,
she replied.

I wasn’t happy with her flippant attitude over her own health, and I made my displeasure known.
I’m going to redden your ass with my hand when I get home.

She was not intimidated.
Promises, promises.

Pulling into The Haven, I don’t see any other vehicles. This is the second time I’ve been here, the first just last week when we got back from Chicago. Savannah wanted to get a few volunteer hours in and had asked if I wanted to come. I didn’t particularly, but I was making amazing progress on the manuscript now with Savannah’s help on all the other crap I had to handle, and frankly, I didn’t want to be away from her.

So I said yes.

And I had fun.

It was hard work, but seriously… how can playing with cute puppies not be fun? And yes, maybe I played with the dogs more than I helped Savannah, but she just smiled at me while shaking her head, and I let her do the dirty work while I rubbed every dog’s tummy at least a dozen times.

Pulling around back, I see Brody’s truck but not Savannah’s car. He comes walking out of the kennel just as I exit the Maserati.

Brody gives a low whistle. “Damn, dude… that is a sweet ride.”

“You can take it out for a spin any time you want, mate,” I tell him as he walks around it, eyeing the sleek lines and shiny paint.

“I’ll take you up on that sometime,” he says, and then adds on, “Looking for Savannah?”

“Yeah… just got in from the airport, and she said she’d be here.”

“She was until about an hour ago, when I found her practically keeled over on the floor. She’s way too sick to be working today.”

Cursing, I walk back toward my car. “Thanks. I’m off to go spank her for getting out of bed when I specifically told her not to.”

“Give her a whack from me,” Brody calls out, and I shoot him a wave as I get in my car to go take care of my girl.

I find Savannah in my bed—our bed really—curled up in a fetal position with the blankets pulled up under her chin. Her forehead is sweaty and her skin clammy. Sitting on the edge of the bed beside her, I stroke her head lightly and say, “Savannah… baby… I’m home.”

Her eyes immediately open and focus on me, and a sleepy smile comes to her face. “Hey,” she says, and her voice still sounds like a frog is stuck in her throat.

“Not feeling any better, I see.”

She shakes her head and coughs into the crook of her elbow.

“And didn’t I tell you to stay in bed? Brody said you were practically passed out on the floor today,” I chastise her.

Savannah’s eyebrows draw inward, and she whines to me, “I wanted to be better. I wanted to be better because I knew you were coming home today and look… I even put on sexy underwear because I wanted to seduce you.”

She pulls the covers down, and she is indeed in some sexy-as-fuck lingerie… black, see-through lace, and no matter that my girl has a red nose and snot running out of said nose, my cock twitches at her beautiful, lace-clad body.

I pull the covers back up around her and tuck them back under her chin. “Bad girl. You had no business being out of bed, and you certainly are in no condition to prance around in that get up, trying to get me all hard, knowing I can’t take advantage of you. I’m so going to tear your ass up when you’re better.”

She’s feeling well enough to give a soft laugh over my non-existent threat, and then she gives me a tender smile. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” I tell her as I lean over to kiss her forehead. “Now, when was the last time you ate?”

She shrugs her shoulders, and I give her a disapproving glare. She grins back at me.

“Chicken soup, medicine, and then I’m ordering you to sleep while I get some work done, okay?”

“Okay,” she says sleepily, rolling back over to close her eyes while I go fix her some lunch.

“You’re going to get sick,” Savannah grumbles.

“I’m not going to get sick,” I tell her and squeeze her closer.

My well-laid plans to feed her, medicate her, and then go to work have been waylaid. I took one look at her lying in bed, realized how much I had missed her the last two days, and said,
Fuck the manuscript.

I stripped down to my underwear and crawled in bed with her. I pulled her into my arms over her protests that she’d make me sick and tucked her in tight.

We watched TV for a while and Savannah dozed on and off, occasionally coughing… a wheeze here and there. She wasn’t running a fever though, so I just let her sleep while I held her. At six o’clock, I got up and heated us up some more soup, made her take her antibiotics and cough syrup, and then ran a bath for her.

She was a bit shaky while I peeled the black lace off her body and helped her step into the tub. I sat on the ledge while she washed herself, leaning over and helping her every once in a while, just so I could touch her.

“Bad boy,” she whispered hoarsely, and I couldn’t agree with her more.

After I got her out of the tub, I dried her body and her hair. Slipping one of my T-shirts over her head, I packed her back off to bed. I knew I should go and work on the book some more, but I couldn’t help myself and crawled back in bed with her.

Savannah laces her fingers through mine and snuggles in closer to me. “Are you close to your parents?”

I squeeze against our threaded fingers and stroke her hip with my other hand. “Sure. I mean… we’re pretty close. After Charlie died and I sort of went off the deep end, things were strained for a while, but my parents were like fucking rocks for me.”

“I’m sure they were devastated,” she says softly.

“Yes… completely. Not only for their grandchild but for their son as well. What about your parents?”

“They’re pretty awesome. Of course, I told you they gave me tremendous support during the whole Kevin thing.”

My body involuntarily tightens when I think about “the whole Kevin thing.” I’d like to look his sorry as up and beat the ever-loving shit out of him.

“I’d love for you to meet them sometime,” Savannah says timidly.

Meet her parents?

Hmmmm… now why isn’t that causing a pit of fear in my stomach? Why does that idea sound appealing to me?

Oh, I know why… because that’s Savannah admitting to me that we have something pretty fucking deep here, just as I was suspecting.

“Too fast for you?” she asks quietly.

“What?” I ask, blinking. “Is what too fast?”

“Meeting my parents. You got awful quiet when I suggested it.”

Turning on my side, I lay my head on her pillow so we’re practically nose to nose. “I’d love to meet your parents, Sweet. Tell me more about them.”

She smiles and takes in a deep breath that, to my ears, sounds like it may be a little clearer. “Here’s their short bio. June and Brian Shepherd, married for thirty years this coming summer. They doted on their only, and quite angelic, child, Savannah. Mom is a secretary for an accountant, and Dad is an electrician. They’re kind of shy, so you know I come by it honestly, but they have the best hearts in the world. You’ll adore them.”

“I’m sure I will.”
Just like I adore you, sweet girl.

“Did you always want to be a fiction writer?”

“Always,” I tell her as my hand winds around her waist, and I pull her in tight.

“Have you written any other books?”

“A few,” I tell her. “Although they’re rubbish.”

“No way,” she denies me. “I’ve read your work. It’s amazing.”

“Yeah, but you read my work post-Charlie. I wrote from a very dark place and it showed through in my writing. People like that shit for some reason.”

“What are your other books like?”

“High fantasy… knights, castles, and dragons sort of stuff. No romance. No sex.”

“Can I read some of it?”

“Sure, babe. Anything you want,” I tell her as my hand slides down from her back to her hip. She didn’t put any underwear on after her bath, and my hand snakes down further to caress her bare bottom.

She sighs and pushes in closer to me, until she’s pressed right up against the erection that had started growing the minute my hand touched her sweet ass. Savannah swivels her hips against me, giving me a slow grind, and I groan and push away from her.

“Uh-uh,” I admonish her. “You’re sick.”

“Sorry,” she mumbles, casting her eyes down toward my chest. “I know I look awful.”

Sliding my hand up her body, I bring my fingers under her chin and tilt her head up to me. Leaning in, I give her a kiss and then rub my nose against hers. “You don’t look awful. You look as beautiful as ever and you can feel I got a fucking hard-on, so you know I’m turned on by you. But you need rest. The sooner you get better, the sooner we can get back to the fucking.”

Her cheeks flame hot, but she’s bold as brass when she says, “I’m not tired though.”

“Rest,” I affirm.

Giving me a coy smile, laced with a bit of evil, she says, “I could… you know, relieve
you
if you wanted. I hate thinking about you laying there, all hard, pulsing, and aching…”

“God, you’re so bad,” I groan, and I turn my face into the pillow. She laughs softly at me and tries to push her hand down in between our bodies to touch me. My hand immediately stops her. “Savannah… so help me God, if you don’t stop, I’m going to tie you up.”

“Now, that’s what I’m talking about,” she exclaims as she tries to grab my cock.

Releasing my hold on her, I roll out of the bed and glare down at her in disapproval. She fucking grins back at me. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to either take a cold shower or jack off, you heathen woman,” I snarl at her.

She grins even bigger. “Can I watch?”

“Fucking death of me,” I mutter as I turn away from her and head into the bathroom. For good measure, I shut the door behind me and lock it so she won’t be encouraged to get out of bed when she should be resting.

I walk up to the vanity and rest my hands on the edge, lifting my face up to look at myself in the mirror. I’m met with my reflection wearing a big ass fucking smile on my face. I positively beam.

A smile that Savannah put there, and I don’t ever want to lose again.

Reaching down, I tug on my cock through the material of my boxer briefs and consider jacking off. Then I decide against it, because if Savannah has to wait, I will too. Starting the shower, I wait for the water to heat and step out of my underwear. Just as I open the door to step in, I hear Savannah rattling the doorknob.