Page 67 of Dirt Driven

“What’s get it up?” Pace asked Rager, sitting next to him.

Rager didn’t miss a beat. “You know, like getting up from the couch.”

“Oh.”

WHILE ROSA TOOKcare of the kids that night, got them bathed and into bed, Rager and I spent some time alone. I helped him shower, after I assured him the door was locked and Rosa couldn’t get in our room.

“She probably had a key made,” he teased, limping to the bed in a pair of shorts after the shower. He had crutches for the ankle but they bothered his ribs, so he limped everywhere most of the time.

“Maybe we should get you a wheelchair,” I joked when he tripped over the rug underneath our bed.

But then I caught onto his expression. He looked tired, as though he hadn’t been sleeping much, but also worried, and then I realized what I said. Caden would be leaving the hospital in a wheelchair and more than likely be in one the rest of his life.

I didn’t know what to do so I stripped. Dropped my robe to the floor. It seemed like the only option for accidentally—always—saying the wrong thing around him. I had been trying so hard to be careful, but it was hard to know what to say in a situation like this. There I stood, buck-ass naked in front of him and waiting to see what he’d do next.

He looked, of course, but it took a minute for the reaction. At least not at first. It was long enough that I bent down and reached for my robe.

And then I heard his rough voice. “Don’t do that.”

I fumbled with the fabric before letting it fall to the ground again. “Do what?”

“Strip in front of me.” He paused and leaned back on his hands that were flat against the mattress. “And then cover yourself up.”

I swallowed over the lump in my throat, the dim lighting in the bedroom casting shadows on his face and the buzzcut he now wore. “I wasn’t sure if it was what you wanted.”

His eyes dragged down my chest to the rest of my body, slowly, as though he was worshiping me with a look. I momentarily stepped out of my own head long enough to see that my husband had slipped his right hand inside his shorts and was rubbing his cock. Holy fuck. I watched brazenly the way his shorts moved with every stroke and his hooded eyes. Why had that been the hottest thing I’d seen in months? Probably because, life threw us the fucking black flag, and we’d been in the pits stuck at motor heat for far too long.

I stepped closer to the bed, wanting his hands on me. No,needingthem.

His legs spread apart allowing space for me. “Come over here, honey.”

I wanted to, God did I, but was it too soon? Could he handle this? “Rager, we probably shouldn’t. Your ribs.” My heart flipped in my chest. We’d barely kissed since his accident and it’d been way too long as far as I was concerned.

His jaw tightened and he pulled his hand from inside his shorts. “I don’t give a fuck about my ribs. I’ll break them again if it means having your pussy on me.”

Okay, well, shit. Kneeling before him, my knees pressed into the plush cream carpet beneath me. Slowly, I ran my hands up his thighs and his eyes fluttered. He licked his lips, shifting his position slightly, as if he couldn’t sit still.

His hands laid on top of mine, gently. “Don’t you see,” he whispered, his words shaking. “I’d go through any amount of pain if it meant I could have you like this.”

“Me too,” I said, swallowing hard.

I stared at his erection straining through his boxer briefs and practically drooled. Sex had been the last thing on my mind since the accident, but now that he was half-naked and obviously wanted this, my thoughts had shifted to us.

“Fuck me,” he begged, yanking on my hands for me to straddle him.

So I did. And he held onto me as if his life depended on it. To the point where it hurt, a little, but I didn’t dare stop him. With his arms circled tightly around my back, his face buried against my chest, he forced me down onto him every time I raised up.

“Does it hurt?” I panted in his ear when I heard him wince, but his grip didn’t ease.

“Yes,” he breathed, his mouth on mine. “But don’t you fucking stop.” And then he raised his hips, meeting me bounce for bounce on him.

Within a few minutes, he came, hard, a guttural sob rolling through him as his body shook. His touch lessened and he laid back against the mattress, still inside me. I caught myself from falling forward on top of him, my hands on either side of his head.

He stared up at me, a ghost of a smile surfacing. “I’m sorry if that wasn’t good for you.” Reaching up, he touched my cheek.

I leaned into his touch. “It was everything.”

IT WAS FIFTYdays from the date of the accident before Caden was finally released from the hospital. That day I drove to Ohio to be there for them.

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