Page 35 of Healed Hearts (Mended Hearts #2)

Chapter Thirty-Four

Julian

H olden is fucking exquisite. By the time I’m pressing circles into the backs of his thighs with my thumbs, he’s a whimpering mess, his hips rocking slightly into the bed.

If I had known giving him a massage would get this kind of reaction, I would have done it forever ago. “Feel good, darlin’?”

The only response I get is a breathy moan and a nod. I chuckle. I’ll take that. I drag my hands over his ass cheek. I don’t linger there for long, though. Even though he’s definitely enjoying this, it wasn’t intended to be sexual. I could tell that he needed a little extra affection today. I’m not sure if it’s his high emotions or if he’s just had bad days at work, but either way, I’m definitely in the business of giving him what he needs. How could I not? Especially when it’s so easy. He likes physical touch and I love to touch him.

I dip my fingers into the dimples at the small of his back before slowly massaging the oil into his skin. He gasps and I can’t resist leaning forward and pressing my lips to the small indents. Fuck, I love these so much. So fucking sexy for no good reason. When my lips connect with his skin, he groans, rounding his back like he’s trying to get more.

My cock is throbbing between my legs, but this isn’t about that, so I sit back quickly before I’m tempted to kiss my way up his back. I let my hands work magic on his skin, drawing whimpers and groans from him in a non-stop stream.

By the time I’m on his right arm, his breathing is ragged. “You okay, darlin’?”

He whines. It seems I’ve reduced him to nothing but moans, whimpers, and whines. My chest swells with pride. I mean, this man is perfection, and I seriously feel like beating my fists on my chest at the prospect of making him feel this good. With nothing but my hands at that.

Climbing over his body, I settle on the other side of him and start over on his left side. When I’ve covered every inch of available skin, I nudge his side. “Roll over for me?”

He does. Slowly. Like his limbs are so relaxed he can barely make them work. When he’s on his back, head tilted back, eyes closed, I start over. He’s hard and leaking, but I avoid touching his cock. If he asks me to, I will. But I want him to experience pure physical touch with no expectations for more. I want him to know that there is intimacy and connection without it needing to be sexual. I honestly just want to give him what he needs. And right now, I think what he needs is this. To be able to relax, shut his brain off, and be taken care of.

I lose myself in gently working my fingers across his skin, the sounds he’s making, and the way his body’s arching into my touch.

“Julian.”

My name on his lips brings my attention to his face. When our eyes collide, I barely see any of the usual emerald because his pupils are so wide. His chest is heaving under my fingers, his face flushed. “Yes?”

“Can we try fingers? Please. It’s not the wrong reasons at all. I promise. I’m so turned on. This is so good. Just… God, please.”

Truthfully, I can tell. There’s no terrified edge to his voice, no desperate pleading in his eyes. He’s asking because he wants this. Because it feels right to him at this moment. “Anything you want, darlin’.”

He groans, shocking the hell out of me when he grasps his thighs and pulls his legs back. I take a couple of deep breaths, preparing myself. He’s definitely on board, but this needs to be handled delicately, or that can change in an instant. I dip my fingers back into the coconut oil, letting it melt with my body heat.

I don’t go right into it, instead I start slowly, touching his ass cheek and the inside of his thighs. When I reach the skin behind his balls, he tenses. I almost pull back, but before I can, he’s groaning and pulling his legs back farther, his dick flexing against his stomach, a string of pre-cum reaching toward his skin. Not a bad tense, then.

I drag my finger down slowly, brushing it against his hole and then back up, watching him carefully to gauge his reaction. He seems okay, but unlike kissing and rimming, I’m not the only person who’s touched him this way. And from what I understand, the only people who ever have hurt him. “Darlin’, I need you to promise you’ll stop me if I do something you don’t like. You are far too important to me to lose you over this, okay?”

He nods. “I promise. I trust you, Julian.”

I trail my finger down again, doing nothing but circling his entrance with it—letting him get used to the way it feels. His body is still, like he’s taking it in. When his hole softens enough that I can push the tip in, I do. He gasps and I stop, keeping my eyes locked on his face.

I glance down quickly. He’s still hard, leaking even, which to me seems like a good sign, so I press in a little deeper as I look back up at him. His face does something complicated. “Do you want me to stop?”

He shakes his head. “I think I need a distraction, though. I’m not freaking out, but I’m too in my head.”

A distraction? I think I can manage that. I lean down and bring my lips to his. He opens for me immediately, and I dip my tongue into his mouth, savoring the taste of him. Bringing a hand up to tangle in my hair, he groans into my mouth. As we kiss, I work my finger deeper into him—until my hand is pressed against his ass and my finger is surrounded by the tight heat of his body.

I pull back. “You okay?”

He nods, then uses his grip on my hair to drag me back to him. He kisses me frantically as I pump my finger in and out of him. I’m kind of flying blind here. And I’m not a fan of the fact that I can’t see his face.

I sit back, smiling at his frustrated huff. “Sorry, darlin’. I need to see your face.”

He pouts up at me, kiss-swollen lips shiny. “I’m okay, I promise.”

“And I believe you, but I really need this anyway, okay?”

He watches me for a second, his eyes soft with understanding, then he nods. I crook my finger and when I find his prostate, his eyes widen and his hips jerk up. “What the fuck?” His words are a breathless gasp that make me chuckle.

“Feel good?”

“I think so.”

I think so. That would be the cutest thing ever if it didn’t break my fucking heart. “Let’s see if I can make you feel better, huh? Can we change positions?”

He nods without hesitation. Fuck, I love how much he trusts me. I pull my finger free of his body and roll onto my back. “Come straddle my chest.”

He looks at me for a second, but ultimately does what I ask. His cock bobs in my face and I tilt my head so I can drag my lips over the slick head. He groans, his hips thrusting forward. I bring a hand up, slipping my finger back inside of him, then open my mouth. He looks down at me with wide eyes, so I stick my tongue out a little, hoping he gets the memo. He does. Grasping the base of his dick, he places the thick head on my tongue. I pull my finger out and gently press back in, watching his face as his eyes roll back and his hips shift. “Oh,” he whimpers, thrusting again, dragging his cock along my tongue.

My cock throbs where it lays heavy on my stomach. Fuck, why does everything about this man fucking undo me like this?

I close my lips around the head of his cock as I use my finger to rub against his prostate. He’s leaking a steady stream of pre-cum into my mouth as his hips rock, needing no encouragement this time to thrust into my mouth.

I groan, dropping my other hand to my dick to rub it. I won’t be embarrassing myself this time, thank you very much. If I come while doing this, I’m going to damn well at least come off like it was because of my hand and not the sexy as sin man who’s currently rocking back and forth on my finger and nudging the back of my throat with his cock.

“Can you do another?” he asks, shuddering hard as I swallow around the head of his dick.

I pull my finger out before gently and slowly working two into his body. He goes taut for a second as he processes the extra pressure, and then he’s working his way into my throat and grinding back against my hand.

I seek out his prostate, rubbing over it. His hips falter and he groans, his head falling back. “Oh fuck. Oh, holy fuck.”

I keep the steady pressure on his prostate as his hips shift back and forth. He’s falling apart at the seams, body shaking, seemingly unable to decide if he wants to fuck my throat or my fingers. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. He’s letting out soft little moans, his hand working over the base of his cock as he drags it over my tongue. “Gonna come. Oh fuck. Julian.” He drags my name out on a long moan, his body pitching forward as he braces himself on the headboard, shooting thick ropes of cum down my throat. I stroke myself twice, and I’m gone, covering my stomach and hand in cum, groaning around his cock. I let my fingers slip free of his body as he pulls out of my mouth, shuddering with oversensitivity. He glances down at me with bright, earnest eyes. “Can I make you come too?”

“Sure. Next time. If I ever manage to not shoot the second you do.”

He giggles. “I guess it could be worse. You could find me repulsive.”

Not a chance in hell of that. He’s honestly too damn attractive for his own good, and probably mine too. “No way, darlin’. I could never find you repulsive.”

He grins, swinging his leg over me and flopping down beside me on his back with a sigh. “You know, I believe that, actually.”

I could honestly cheer with the feeling of victory that statement gives me. Such a massive change from just a few short weeks ago when he was genuinely worried and concerned that I found him disgusting. I know it may just be temporary and he may be riding the high of his orgasm, but still. I’ll take it. “I’m glad. Because I don’t. Not even a little. I think you’re perfection.”

He giggles. “I think you’re perfection.” I couldn’t stop the cheesy-ass grin from spreading across my face if I tried. “But I do have a question.”

“What’s that?”

“You still want to, right? Top me? I think I still really want you to. I’ve been thinking about it a lot and I talked to Ro, and we did the things.”

I reach over to grab the towel on the floor beside the bed to clean myself off because even though I just spent at least an hour touching every inch of his skin, I need him back in my arms like now. Huh, maybe he’s not the only one that’s clingy. “C’mere.” He rolls toward me, plastering his body to my side. Once he’s settled, I answer his question. “I definitely want to. You just let me know when you’re ready.”

“Okay.” He’s quiet for a long while, so long that I’m convinced he’s asleep when he speaks. “No one has ever touched me that way before. Like with the massage. I really liked it.”

I smile into the dark room. “Me too, darlin’. I love you.”

He sighs, wrapping his arms around my waist and snuggling in closer. “I love you too, Jules.”

When the sun rises and I wake up, Holden’s still in my arms. His face is tilted toward me, peace and contentment etched into his features. His hair, like every morning, is an absolute fucking mess. He looks so damn gorgeous.

I try to extricate myself from his hold so I can get up and start on breakfast, but he’s having none of it. His grip on me tightens and his nose scrunches up. After a couple of seconds of debate, I decide that there’s no reason breakfast can’t wait.

I brush my thumb along his cheek as I watch him sleep. I can’t believe he agreed to move in with me. It was kind of a spontaneous decision on my part, but the second the words flew out of my mouth, I couldn’t regret it. Besides, I do want him here. I want to share this beautiful, sometimes terrifying life with him. He came storming into my life and caught me in his spell and now I’m trapped, unable to get away. Not that I’d want to.

My eyes grow heavy as I stare at his face, so I close them. Nothing wrong with soaking in this time with him before Wren wakes up and demands food. Maybe it can be a cereal breakfast day.

Before I know it, I’m blinking awake again. A quick glance at the clock shows that it’s after 10:00 a.m. A rush of panic hits me so quickly that I sit straight up in bed, practically throwing Holden off me.

He groans, sitting up beside me. “What the hell?”

“Wren’s still asleep.” I throw the blankets off and rush to the closet to pull on a pair of sweats before I tear out of the room and race into hers. It’s way too late. She never, ever sleeps in. The only time she did was the morning before I called Holden, when he rushed her to the hospital. No, no, no, no, no.

I kneel beside her bed and give her a little shake. “Wren.”

Her eyes flutter open, but close right back. No. Not again. Fuck. I’m about to stand, to do my usual freak out in situations like these, when Holden drops to his knees beside me.

He takes over in that calm, confident way he has. He pulls his phone out, sets a timer for a minute, then lays his hand on her back. Closing his eyes, a look of pure concentration comes over his face. When the timer goes off, he nods to himself, and lifts her wrist, placing his fingers on her pulse point.

When he’s done, he grabs her, gently sitting her up. She wakes, thank God, but she looks half out of it. “Hey, pretty girl. Can you look at me?” She glances at him, eyes half-lidded and sleepy as hell. “Oh, hi. There are those pretty eyes. Wanna go see Lydia?”

Wren doesn’t acknowledge him and my stomach drops out, straight falls to the damn floor. Lydia? She has to go back to the hospital again? “Holden.” His name is no more than a whispered croak as it leaves my mouth.

He turns to me, cupping my face in both hands. “She’s okay. I promise. We knew this would happen. And Lydia said soon, remember? We caught it way sooner than we did last time. She’s stable. She’s going to be okay. Let’s get her ready and we’ll take her in. I’ll call Lydia on the way.”

I nod as my body starts to shake uncontrollably. He notices because, of course he does, and wraps his arms around me. “Shh. It’s okay, I promise. Do you need medication?”

I shake my head violently. “No, then I can’t… I can’t do what she needs. I can’t be what she needs.” Talking is hard, my breaths choppy and panic spiraling in my stomach.

Holden runs his hands down my bare back. “Hey, I’ve got you. I’ve got you both. If you need something, please, please take it. I’ll take care of you both, I promise. It’s okay.”

I growl in frustration with myself. “I shouldn’t need something, though. This is ridiculous. I should be strong enough to handle this without a damn Xanax.”

He pulls back quickly, giving me an admonishing glare that makes me feel about two inches tall. “Julian Foster, this is clearly a trigger for you. Give yourself some grace. Take the medicine or don’t. I’ll support you either way, but for the love of God, don’t deny yourself medication because of some misguided idea that taking it makes you weak or less than.”

I take a shallow breath. “Are you sure you’ve got it?” Hurt flashes across his face, so I rush to clarify. “I know you do. I don’t mean that you aren’t capable. I meant I don’t want to put you in a bad place mentally.”

“Julian, being a support system for you and Wren is as easy as breathing. Go take some medicine. I’ll get her ready.”

I hesitate for only a moment, but eventually, I stand on shaky legs and make my way to the bathroom to get a Xanax. I fucking hate this. Hate it . I can’t even take care of my daughter without needing help from a damn pill. I stare at my reflection in disgust as I pop the pill into my mouth and fill my hands with water from the tap to swallow it. With a brief glance at the pill bottle on the counter, I snatch it up and shove it into my pocket.

By the time I’m done, Holden is stepping into the bedroom, a bleary-eyed Wren on his hip. He’s got her changed and her little backpack slung over his shoulder. “You ready?”

I nod, hoping this stupid fucking pill kicks in soon so I can feel like a normal human being again. He crosses the room and takes my hand in his. “It’s okay to need extra help.”

I bite my tongue hard against the shitty comment that wants to break free. I force myself to nod again.

He gives me a gentle tug and leads me out of the house. He gets Wren settled in her car seat while I stand there, useless. When he’s done, he gives me a soft smile that I can’t force myself to return. Making my way around the car, I climb into the passenger seat, knowing damn well I’m not going to make it to the hospital before the Xanax kicks in. Holden doesn’t miss a beat. He climbs in and backs up, calling Lydia the second we’re on the highway. He doesn’t put her on speaker, so I can only hear his side of the conversation.

By the time we’re pulling into the parking lot, the medicine still hasn’t kicked in. Once again, he takes care of getting Wren out of the car. He talks to her, even managing to draw a couple of tired smiles out of her as we walk into the hospital. I follow behind, watching, feeling like a useless piece of shit dad.

The feeling doesn’t go away as we make our way to the peds floor, or as Lydia comes in. Holden handles it all, taking care of her in a way I’m incapable of. The sight of her on the hospital bed makes abject horror slither through my body, my breathing coming fast and hard.

I try to get myself to relax. Just a few minutes, Julian, and the medicine will kick in. But as Holden talks to Wren and Lydia starts a line and hangs a bag of blood, nausea settles in my gut. I place a hand over my stomach, seriously fucking worried I’m about to throw up. I rush to the bathroom in her room and lean over the toilet, my mouth filling with saliva.

When the immediate feeling that I’m about to throw up passes, I take a step back. Turning to the sink, I splash cold water on my face and breathe deeply, trying to get myself to calm down.

I can do this. I have to. Wren needs me. Why the fuck is this medicine not kicking in yet? I’m the worst fucking dad. I just left her there alone.

She’s not alone, though. She’s with Holden. She’s okay.

I grip the edge of the sink. She’s not okay. She’s sick and I can’t even stand to see it. Couldn’t even stand in the room and watch. I can’t do this. I need this medicine to work. It’s always worked before. I don’t understand why it’s not. I dig the pill bottle out of my pocket. With shaky hands, I manage to open it, dropping another pill onto my tongue without thinking about it. I get another handful of water, swallowing it down before closing the cap and shoving the bottle back into my pocket.

Focusing on my reflection, I drag deep breaths into my lungs, begging my racing heart to slow the fuck down. I need to get back to my daughter. Not like it’s going to matter. I can’t take care of her like this anyway. But I need to at least be strong enough to watch her. To be there. So she can see me and know she’s not alone. That her dad hasn’t fucked off and left her alone.

I allow myself a few more seconds to spiral, then I head back into the room. I force my eyes to seek her out the second I walk back in, and Holden’s eyes dart to me instantly. He raises an eyebrow at me. A question. Most likely a “what the fuck are you doing and why aren’t you in here taking care of your child?”

I press my back against the wall, forcing myself to watch, not allowing myself to take my eyes off Wren. When everyone clears out of the room, Holden slowly walks toward me. “What’s wrong?”

I don’t want to tell him. But the way his eyes are locked on mine has me folding immediately. “I feel like I’m failing.”

His head tilts to the side. “How are you failing?”

I reach up to grip my hair with both hands, irritation with myself burning through me. How does he not understand this? “I can’t even take care of her. Every time something happens, I’m useless. Either I’m panicking or I’m swallowing a damn pill that makes me calm but still useless. Hell, this time I had to take two.”

He gives me a strange look but steps closer to me, placing his hand on my chest. “You aren’t useless at all.”