Page 60 of Between Desire and Denial

“What are you doing?” he grumbled into my neck as he nuzzled closer to me.

“I should go wash up so we can go to sleep.”

“Wash up in the morning,” he murmured like he was half asleep already.

I was falling asleep too. “Dimitri, cuddling after sex is blurring the lines. And I told you I don’t cuddle.”

“There are no lines. You’re here. With me. You’re mine. My cock’s so far in you right now, I’d venture to say I’m yours too.” He kissed my neck, bit at my ear and sucked it better, then pulled out of me. He got up to go to the bathroom. When he returned, he had a warm washcloth. He tapped my thigh. “Open for me, honey.”

“I said I was going to go clean up myself.”

“And yet, I’m here, doing it for you.”

I tsked, not sure why he needed to, but his eyes were on my legs now, determined. “Why?” I asked as I spread them for him.

He slowly dragged the warm cloth up each thigh, then against every sensitive part of me. “Showing you what boyfriend material is.”

I couldn’t look away from him as he said it, as he focused on his task, as he cleaned away the evidence we’d made together of our desire for each other. “No way a guy is going to do this every time.”

“I will if you want me to,” he said softly. “Or I’ll leave myself all over you if you want me to.”

“Why would any girl want that?”

“Because it means you’re with me and only me, Olive. Some womendowant to be with me.”

I hated that I got butterflies with the way he said it, with how the warm cloth dragged over my clit too. “They must know it’s nearly impossible to be with you exclusively.”

“Is it?” he whispered, and I didn’t know what to say so I didn’t respond. I let him move another clean cloth all over my body, and he did so slowly and precisely before he discarded it into the dirty laundry and then laid down next to me, bare naked still. I felt his cock again, wanted him again, almost arched into him again, but then he murmured, “Go to sleep, Honeybee. Go to sleep.”

Chapter Twenty-One

OLIVE

He wokeup before me the next morning and, when I rolled over, I knew exactly why. My phone said it was nearing noon, but I saw the visual aura as I stared at it. My head was pounding, and the migraine was back with a vengeance. I groaned in pain before I stumbled to the bathroom and got a washcloth to drape over my eyes as I laid back down in bed.

I stayed like that for probably far too long.

“Time to walk—” I heard him from the doorway. “What the fuck is going on? What’s wrong, Honeybee?”

“Shhh.” I kept my eyes closed and tried to will away the pain. I needed to keep up my end of the bargain, and our walks around the neighborhood together were important. “Migraine again. I’ll sleep and then we can walk—"

“Damn it. All morning? I thought you were just sleeping in,” he murmured, and his voice was way too close, like he’d rushed over and was kneeling next to me, like he cared.

“It’s fine. I’m going to call my doctor soon and get things changed. I just need an hour and we can go—”

“We’re not going anywhere.” His tone was final. “I’ll get you Advil.” There was a pause. “Motrin? What do you need? How often do you get these, Olive?”

“It’s fine.” I winced though. “Just Motrin please.”

I heard his footsteps leave and come back. I heard the blinds of the bedroom being closed, the door being shut, and then he lifted the cloth from my eyes. He stood there with a look of concern that I wasn’t used to from him. “I got Motrin and water and an ice pack for your head.”

When I reached for the pills, he shook his head and held them out of reach. “Open your mouth.” He was so gentle as he placed them on my tongue and then lifted my head a tiny bit so I could drink the water from the glass. Then, he set it on the bedside table and disappeared into the bathroom to run cool water on the cloth again for me. “Close your eyes again.”

“Dimitri, I’m fine. I can take—”

“I’m taking care of you now. Please just let me.” He left no room for argument as he put the cloth back on my eyes and then the ice pack. I felt his side of the bed dip as he sat down next to me. Then, he pulled me into his lap so that my head could rest against his chest.

I fell asleep to his fingers massaging my temples.