Chapter 7
Grif realized why she’d asked a few seconds later. He started to unbutton his uniform but realized either he would have to leave or she would. He only wore a T-shirt beneath the outer jacket.
Or he could just bare it all and get it over with.
Tiredness beat at him. It had been a stressful day. He didn’t know if he was up to an even more stressful night.
“Uh, Grif?”
Shit. She had to be wondering why he’d stood there so long.
“Yeah,” he sighed.
“Do you think you can unbutton me?”
He jerked into motion. “Sure. I can try.”
She turned her elegant back to him, and when he saw the row of little tiny buttons, he started to sweat. There was no way. The fingers on the prosthetic couldn’t even pinch that tiny.
Left handed, fumbling, slower than f*ck, he managed to get one button through the tiny satin loop holding it.
“This may take a while. My right hand is useless for stuff like this.”
“I’m sorry. I’d have had Lilly help me undress if I had known it would be an issue.”
“It’s just impossible for the prosthetic to squeeze this small. And I don’t have the dexterity for it even if it could.”
“Ah, okay,” she murmured. “I didn’t really realize that the hand could make movements like that.”
It was a subtle probe. Grif found that he didn’t mind talking about it as much because her back was to him, waiting patiently for him to move. He started on button number two of fifty. “It can make several movements as long as they’re not intricate.”
“So,” her voice was very soft, “how do you make it move?”
He stopped fiddling with the buttons, realizing that there would be no better time than now to explain it all to her. “If you turn around I’ll show you.”
Coughing to clear his throat, he took a heavy breath, his heart pounding. Revealing himself to new people was never easy. Hell, he hadn’t revealed himself to a woman that wasn’t a medical professional ever. Any romantic liaisons he had the shirt stayed on. Period.
Kendall was different. Besides being drawn to her more completely than any other woman, she had now become his wife. She deserved to know what she’d gotten herself into.
The medals on the left breast of the jacket jingled softly as he let it fall from his arms. Without looking at her face, feeling more naked than ever before, he draped the jacket over a nearby chair.
She hadn’t said anything. When he looked at her face, he only saw curiosity in her clear green eyes. She reached out to touch him and he raised his arm to her. “Explain to me about this. Does it hurt?”
Her gaze met his and he shook his head. “Not really. Not anymore.”
“So, how did you lose your hand in the first place?”
If he’d seen anything in her look hinting at pity or disgust, he’d have clammed up, but she seemed genuine in her need to know.
Sighing, he shook his head in disgust. “I screwed up. I was in an explosive ordinance disposal company in the Marines. EOD. We went in with other Marines and cleared out IEDs and traps. One day a fellow Marine brought in an improvised device that had been disabled. We thought. When he handed it over, there must have been enough charge left in it somewhere that when the wires touched, it detonated. The other Marine was fine, but my hand was obliterated. There was nothing left to save. I had shrapnel in my gut. Lost my sight for a while.”
She cringed. “I’m very sorry.”
“Not your fault.”
Her eyes were soft as he pulled from her grasp to remove the prosthetic, then the soft fitted sock underneath it. As he finally revealed the stump of his forearm to her for the first time, he tried to tell himself it didn’t matter what she thought.
Right.
She shocked him when she snorted softly, then reached out to touch it. A shiver coursed through him as she ran her painted fingernails down the sensitive skin, tracing the line of scar at the end. She stepped in close, and wrapped both hands around the end of his arm. “I don’t know why, but I thought it would be gross and scary looking, but it’s not. I didn’t exactly expect it to be bloody, but nasty, malformed. This just looks like your skin was wrapped around the end of the joint. Like a wrapped baseball bat.”
The knot in his gut eased. At least she hadn’t freaked.
“So, how does the prosthetic work?”
As she seemed to go through life, she wanted to learn everything there was to know about his amputation. She asked intelligent questions and didn’t seem pitying or condescending in any way. Actually, she seemed fascinated that the entire hand could be manipulated by the nerve impulses from his brain. He rolled on the sock, then pressed his stub into the socket, sealing it tight. Then he showed her the reverse process, removing it.
“I have to apologize.”
Grif narrowed his eyes at her. “Why?”
Standing there in her wedding dress, looking radiant in spite of the hour and her drooping hair, she lifted her face to his. “Because I wasn’t very nice when my father first hired you. I said some things I shouldn’t have, within your hearing, and I apologize.”
He appreciated her words. “It’s over and done with. Don’t worry about it. It’s not something I haven’t heard before. Turn around and we’ll see if we can get you out of this dress.”
He leered at her and she laughed. Exactly as he wanted.
It took him a long time, but he eventually released enough of the buttons that they could tug the dress up over her head and off. He grabbed a padded hanger from the closet and draped it on, then hung it from the top of the bathroom door. When he looked back, she had unfastened her bra and tossed it across the room, baring her lush, pink-tipped breasts. As he watched she stepped out of her panties to stand before him completely bare.
A bolt of awareness rattled his bones. Kendall Herrington, or was it Parks now, belonged to him, as well as the boy or girl growing in her stomach. Stepping forward, he ran his hand over the smooth expanse of skin, from hipbone to hipbone. “This is going to change.”
Her eyes flared with excitement and fear. “I know.”
Needing the connection, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her into a hug.
“I’m going to shower. Want to join me?”
His cock hardened beneath his pants. “I do.”
Seemed to be the night for ‘I do’s’.
Kendall walked away from him and into the bathroom. Grif watched her perfect ass until she disappeared from sight, then scrambled to shed his own clothes. He took care with his uniform pants, but everything else just got tossed. Seconds after she stepped into the glass enclosure, he stepped in behind her.
There were several jets in this particular shower, projecting in from opposite sides of the stall. She’d turned the heat up high enough to warm their bones, but not so hot to make them overheat.
Grif watched as she lathered and rinsed her hair, then went through the motions of scrubbing her body. Whatever she used smelled phenomenal. A little fruity, yet sexy at the same time.
“May I?” He held his hand out for the spongy thing she was running over her skin. She handed it over and he motioned for her to turn around. When she did, he ran the sponge up and down her back, across her shoulders, down her arms. Kendall leaned against the tile wall, forehead resting on folded forearms. She moaned when he ran it down her sides and gasped when he brushed her nipples.
Grif’s cock had only gotten harder as he watched her bathe herself. When she gasped, he felt the stirring in his balls. Snugging himself up behind her, he dropped the spongy thing to the floor and ran his soapy hand up her side, then up her breast. Her nipple was rock hard already and he had a feeling she was as aroused as he was.
He leaned down to her ear. “Ever use these benches in here?”
A seat had been fashioned from tile in the very front corner and another along the width of the back. Grif turned a dial and the jets at the back of the stall turned off.
“No, I haven’t. I’ve always wanted to, though.”
Sounded like a green light to him.
He spanned his hand across her chest to reach her opposite breast. It puckered as hard as the other one and he fondled the weight in his hand. She moaned as he aligned his dick with the crack of her ass, gliding up and down in the slick water. Tilting her hips back, she sharpened the contact between them. Grif was about to guide his erection down and into her p-ssy when she turned in his arms and pushed him back. His heels hit the tile and he allowed her to press him down onto the bench.
She followed him down, settling on her knees between his feet. Her long fingered hands glided up his thighs, danced over his hips, then she walked her fingers up his sides. He shifted on the bench, trying not to let her see how ticklish he was, but a grin spread her plump lips.
Kendall set out to torment him. She stoked over his body everywhere except where he wanted her to go-his cock. She massaged his good arm, up his neck, cupped his head in her hands and crushed her mouth against his. Only her luscious breasts touched him where he wanted, and it wasn’t enough. When he raised his hand to tweak her nipple, she pulled away and shook her head.
“No. Not this time. You can play next time.”
Gnashing his teeth, he tried to be patient, but it was damn hard.
Just when he thought he couldn’t wait much longer, she started kissing her way down his body. Biting his nipples gently with her teeth, licking the line down his pectorals, she slowly made her way south. When she finally did wrap those plump lips around the head of his cock, Grif worried that it would all be over before it began. Digging deep, he forced the impending orgasm away. Part of the problem was the view. Looking down at her swaying breasts as she started a delicious movement up and down his cock.
F*ck!
Grif slammed his eyes shut and knocked his head back against the tile to try to distract himself. He wouldn’t last if he kept watching her.
Kendall blew him for a few minutes, taking him deep for a few strokes, then lingering high on the furl of the head. That was where she really got him. She stroked her tongue into the slit and over the sensitive, fleshy underside, which made his body quake. Gently, reluctantly, he held her away, desperate to prolong the pleasure. “I want you to ride me.”
Kendall nodded. Pushing to her feet, she spread her thighs over top of his erection and lowered herself to his lap. Grif realized almost immediately that he’d made a strategic error. Kendall had become so aroused that he slipped into her body easily. She glided down, moaning as she struggled to accommodate his length. Grif cupped her hip with his hand and even before she started to move, he knew he was a goner.
She started to circle her hips, sealing down as tightly as she could. Grif reached out with his amputation and pulled her hips forward. Kendall gasped as the angle changed and he dragged her forward again. They did this several times before she suddenly lifted straight up, then slammed right back down.
“Oh, damn,” she moaned, plunging on top of him again.
Grif felt her grip on his cock start to tighten. Curling forward he took her nipple into his mouth, sucking as she rocked against him, and he felt the split second when her body shattered.
She screamed out, gasping for breath as she slammed herself onto him again and again, riding the wave. Grif finally allowed his own pleasure to swallow him under, straining, reaching to be a tiny bit deeper as he released into her body.
The orgasm rippling through her body prolonged his own, and it was several long moments before she finally collapsed against him.
Grif panted as if he’d run up the mountain, but his satisfaction was complete. As he gathered a quivering Kendall into his arms, he thanked the stars that they’d landed where they had, and that he’d given in that lonely Christmas.
Amazingly, the water was still hot when they separated then stepped under. Kendall lathered her body again and rinsed, then turned to lather his body as well. Grif could have brushed her away, but he kind of enjoyed the attention. She even went so far as to lather his stump.
It was very strange.
For years he’d been responsible for himself, doing everything on his own. Relationships had been few and far between.
“Were you right handed before?”
She stood under the falling water, watching him.
“I was.”
Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. “So, you had to relearn everything then. Writing, driving, eating.”
He nodded and stepped under the water to rinse, closing his eyes, letting her process that bit. She still looked thoughtful as he stepped through the glass door and reached for the towel on the heated bar. Rubbing himself briskly, he tried not to shift under her scrutiny. He secured the towel around his waist and walked out into the apartment.
Calvert had dropped off his overnight bag at some point. Digging through it, he found his briefs and pulled them on, then was faced with a dilemma. He walked back into the bedroom.
Kendall had just walked out of the bathroom and to the dresser on the far side of the room.
“I normally sleep in my underwear. Do you have any issues with that?”
Without turning around, she shook her head, dropping her towel to step into her own panties. Grif forgot what he was doing as he watched the blue fabric slide up her long legs. She tugged them over her butt, then ran her finger down along the elastic leg to make sure it fit her cheek just right. When she finally turned, he had the feeling she’d taken a deep breath before she looked at him.
As they stood on opposite sides of the bedroom, dressed almost exactly the same, a sense of surreality overcame him.
“No. I don’t. This is how I usually sleep as well.”
Kendall walked into the bathroom and he heard the blowdryer come on.
Crossing to the chair that held his Dress Blue Alphas, he arranged them on a hanger and hung it from the door beside her wedding dress.
Since she was in there, maybe he could slip into bed and get a head start on sleep. But when he crawled under the comforter, his mind began to replay the day.
Kendall had looked stunning. And though he’d seen five hundred different emotions in her face throughout the day, determination had been the strongest.
His face had probably reflected the same. They were both determined to create a life for their child. And to try to make the situation as good as it could be. If he were honest with himself, he hoped deep down that he could make this marriage work for them too.
They settled into a surprisingly comfortable routine.
Well, other than the morning sickness.
The first morning after they were married, Kendall bolted out of the bed with her hand over her mouth. Grif rolled out of bed to follow, but she slammed the door in his face. As he listened to her retch inside, he wished there was something he could do for her, rather than just stand here and listen.
Crackers!
But there were no crackers in the kitchen.
“F*ck!”
There was ginger ale in the fridge, though. He poured her a glass and sat it beside the bed table. When she came out a few minutes later, she sipped the drink carefully. Once it stayed down, she drank the rest of the can.
From then on, gathering the anti-nausea remedies when it struck was his job. Which he did happily. They now always had about four different kinds of crackers in the cupboards, though she preferred plain, salted saltines.
The nausea itself eased back to morning time only after a couple weeks, then faded altogether in her second month.
During the day he continued to guard her, though Ortiz stayed as well. Grif needed to decide what he planned to do about his job. He couldn’t float along on leave forever. Though Duncan had been patient so far, Grif knew something needed to change. Soon.