Page 43 of Paladin's Hell

He moves fast, his strong arms imprisoning me. His words, quietly spoken, direct into my ear. “I love you. I’m not leaving you. I’m not cheating on you. Fuck, woman. How could you think it? How could you imagine I don’t find you desirable anymore?”

I wait. In times past, he’d have proved it. Have taken my hand and placed it on his thick, hard and ready cock, before throwing me down and sinking into me. He does nothing of the kind.

“Babe, darlin’. Oh, Mo. It’s not you, it’s me.”

“That’s what they all fucking say.” I huff out. Christ, what a cliché to come out of the mouth of my man.

He snorts. “Yeah, that came out wrong. But it’s true, Mo. I’ve been trying to deal, trying to understand, hoping it would get better. But it really is me.” He breaks off, I feel his body tense. Something tells me what he says next is going to be significant. I wait. He doesn’t disappoint. “There’s no way I can get it up anymore unless I swallow a little blue pill.”

Wait a freaking minute. What did he just say? “Hell…?”

I don’t know what expression I put into that one word, his name with the inflection that turned it into a question, but suddenly his arms leave me. He throws back the sheets, slides off his side of the bed, and stomps around to stand in front of me. Raising my eyes I see him in all his tattooed glory. He stands, one hand on his very limp dick. He’s tugging it.

“See? It’s dead as a fuckin’ dodo. No life in it anymore. Doesn’t matter if it’s you, or anyone. Not that I’ve tried,” he puts in the last quickly, “but the live porn in the clubhouse doesn’t make it stir. Nor our best strippers on the fuckin’ pole.” He drops his hands away. His dick, even limp, is impressive. “I don’t even get mornin’ wood anymore.”

Tentatively I reach out my hand. At first he steps back, then, with an exaggerated sigh, he moves forward again, allowing me to touch it. It doesn’t twitch. Just hangs there. The cock which used to reach proudly and point up toward his stomach. Idly I notice just how grey his pubic hair has become. He’s getting old. He’s not the only one.

I sink to my knees, kiss him, there, then move my mouth over his cock. Nothing.

Grasping my hair lightly, he moves my head away, then he’s on his knees beside me. “Have you any fuckin’ idea what a failure this makes me feel? What a sorry excuse for a man?”

“You’re still all man.” I tell him, trying to push my own feelings aside. Despite him telling me otherwise, I still feel this must be some fault of my own. “Perhaps if I was still younger…”

“Woman, stop that. Ain’t got fuck all to do with you. It’s me.” His hand moves under my chin, gripping it gently, forcing me to look him in the eyes. “Up here,” he taps his head, “I still find you as attractive as I ever have. It’s just my darn cock is broke. What kind of man can’t service his woman?” His eyes close briefly, then open again. “I’ve been scared to tell you. That’s why I’ve been hidin’ out at the club. I couldn’t face you. I can’t give you what you need. I’ve been so scared you’d leave me.”

His fears, so close to my own, make me giggle. He looks at me as though I’ve lost my mind, then shakes his head. “This,” he points at his cock laying lifeless against his thigh, “you think this is funny? Fuck, woman.”

I can’t hold back the chuckles. Staring at me as if I’m losing it, he starts to rise. I grab his hands in mine, holding them tightly. “Hell, listen to me. Do you remember the last time, Christ, how long ago was it?”

“Ten months,” he answers through gritted teeth.

“And two days,” I tell him. Well, let’s be accurate now. “It hurt me.”

He looks confused. “I thought we used enough lube.”

“Not the point, Hell. We did. I was sore anyway. So I went to the doctor. Turns out my oestrogen levels are falling, it causes thinning of the vaginal tissues, well, that’s how the doctor explained it. She gave me a cream for it.”

His face falls. “You’re okay, now? If I took a blue pill…”

“I used the cream. For a time. But it seemed to cause migraines. And when you weren’t coming near me, it didn’t seem worth it anymore.”

His head bows. His shoulders shake. Just when I’m about to ask him what’s wrong, he looks up with his eyes shining with mirth. “The reason I haven’t taken a blue pill? They give me blinding headaches after.”

Now I’m giggling uncontrollably. Moments later I’m in his arms. He leans back against the bed, and I’m sitting on the floor on his lap. We probably look ridiculous, but who cares? For the first time in months I feel I’ve got my man back with me.

“Don’t care if we can’t get physical anymore,” he tells me softly. “I’ve got all I want in my arms right here.”

“Well, it seems we could. If we arrange a time and place carefully, and stock up with Advil.”

That gets us both roaring with laughter again.

“If I could take HRT, it might have been easier…”

His arms tighten. “Don’t want you even thinking about that shit. Don’t want you putting hormones in your body. I was so fuckin’ scared.”

“It’s over now.” I say, soothingly. It had been a few years back when I’d had a tiny cancerous lump removed from my breast. They got it early, got it all out. But until I’d received the all clear, Hellfire is right. He’d been scared out of his mind. I’d been frightened as well, but him? It was a demon he couldn’t face, couldn’t fight for me. He’d ended up feeling so useless.

I pat his cheek. “I’m fine,” I reassure him. “Fine.” I’d given up smoking, started eating better. It had given us both a scare.

He frowns, “This cream…”

“Is perfectly safe. The doctor assured me. But what about you?”

The lines on his forehead deepen. “Getting old, drinking too much. Smoking. Could be stress.” His mouth quirks. “Could be I wore the darn thing out satisfying my woman.”

Now that deserves, and gets, a bat on his arm.

He stands, managing to lift me onto my feet. “Now, come to bed, Mo. Let’s hold each other like we used to.”

That sounds nice. Even that’s been a very long time.

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