“We talked about you. We talked about Mom and Kota. He told me I had to wake up.” He releases my hand to rub his face a couple of times.
“Are you freaking out about it?” I ask, wondering if I should be concerned. This is the first time he’s brought this up in four weeks. Maybe it’s bothering him.
“Not really. In the beginning, I was a little freaked out. But, since coming home, I’ve stopped dreaming about him. Before, I would replay the same dream over and over a couple of times a week. Now, it’s gone.”
“Well, maybe it was your way of finally letting go?” I whisper, hoping it’s true.
With Hetch being off work the last four weeks, it’s given him more free time to see Dr. Anderson. I’ve noticed a huge difference in him. From opening up more about his dad and his past, to barely flinching when I ask questions about him.
“Yeah, maybe.” He doesn’t sound convinced, but he doesn’t sound worried either. Not sure what to say, I don’t say anything and let the quiet fall between us again.
“I miss him.” He shakes his head and rolls to face me. “I hated that dream, but now it’s gone, I’m missing him.”
I scoot closer, placing my open palm against his heart. “It’s okay to miss him. I don’t ever expect you not to miss him. He’s your father, and you’re his son, regardless if he is here in the flesh or not. But what you need to remember”—I pat his chest, drawing his attention to his heart—“is that he is always in here.” Reaching up, I then cup his jaw.
“Have I told you I love you today?” I ask, changing the subject before he has time to dwell on it too much.
“Maybe.” His hand covers mine. “But I’m not opposed to hearing it again.”
“I love you, Liam Hetcherson.” I smile when he smiles. “You are the most amazing man I’ve ever known.” I kiss him before he can say anything. My sudden need to show him all the love he deserves is too strong to stop.
He deepens the kiss. The hand resting on my hip digs in and pulls me against him while his tongue thrusts past my lips and entwines with mine.
Seized by a rush of need, I press closer to him. My legs part and I lift one up over his side, rolling my hips against him. It’s probably the worst thing I could do. Since leaving the hospital, we’ve yet to have sex, the doctor giving Hetch strict instructions on no strenuous activity. Sex included.
“Wait.” I stop, realizing my mistake, but Hetch doesn’t obey.
“No, not stopping tonight.” His lips leave mine and travel down my jaw, and to my neck.
“The doctor hasn’t cleared you.” My words may be rejecting him, but my hips are still rolling against him, searching for friction.
“We’ll be careful.” His teeth sink into my neck, sending a ripple of goose bumps over my skin.
“Oh, God. We shouldn’t.” I fight a little harder.
“Please, baby. I need you.” His plea is followed by another quick bite to my neck.
Fuck, how can I resist him?
“Hetch, this isn’t a good idea.” He rolls both of us so I’m on my back, and he’s covering me.
“See, that’s where you’re wrong. My cock and I think it’s the best idea of the day.” His hands push my nightie up and over my head while mine find the waistband of his boxers. Our heads collide while we try to undress each other.
“Fuck.”
“Shit.”
We both curse, rubbing our heads.
“We seem to be a little out of practice,” I whisper, watching him carefully.
“We just need to slow it down.” He pulls back and stands by the side of the bed. I watch as he drops his boxers, freeing his rock-hard erection.
The thick veins running through his cock throb in front of my eyes.
Jesus.
“Are you sure you want to?” My fingers dip into the sides of my panties, but I don’t pull them down until he gives the okay.
“What sort of question is that, sweetheart?” He widens his stance, fists his cock, and strokes himself. My core throbs and my nipples harden. Even if I wanted to resist this man, the sight before me pushes every bit of willpower left in me away.
Making quick work of my panties, I kick them off and move down the bed so I’m lying in front of him. Exposed and waiting.
“Jesus, I’ve missed you.” His voice is husky with need. His stare is scorching with want.
“Touch yourself, sweetheart.” My hands obey. Reaching between my legs, I part my lips and glide my finger through my wetness.
“Tell me how wet you are.” His eyes don’t leave my * while mine don’t leave his cock. Both of us transfixed with the other, getting ourselves off.
“Take a look yourself.” I spread my legs wider, giving him a better view.
“Fuck, baby.” The half groan, half grunt washes over me, and anchors me to the point I almost don’t feel him climb up over me and settle between my legs. “Need you so bad.”
I spread my legs wider, making room for him. Coming up on my elbows, I look down my body and watch him line up his cock at my entrance. Risking a glance up at him, I find his gaze locked on me.