Page 33 of Shielding His Heart
Mom shakes her head and clucks her tongue. “That’s crazy. Who would want to burn down that old thing? It’s not worth anything.”
“Could be a lot of reasons.” I tip my head to the girls who have stopped listening to the movie they’re watching and are now paying close attention to us. “We’ll talk about it later. How are you girls feeling?”
Both are eating a pile of crackers and sipping on sports drinks. Gemma is the first to perk up. Of course. “I feel a whole lot better, Daddy.”
Paisley slams back into her nest of pillows. “I’m so tired,” she says.
“Why don’t you ladies rest, and I’ll clean up the explosion from upstairs.”
Now that the interesting conversation is over, their attention goes back to the movie. I nod at my mom and head back upstairs to deal with the mountains of laundry. How do we go through every sheet and towel in the house every time they have a stomach bug? It doesn’t make sense. It’s up there with the physics of losing socks in dryers and never having enough hair ties. #GirlDad.
I get the first set of sheets and towels in the washer and finally get myself in the shower. I groan as soon as I step beneath the hot spray. The scalding water feels fantastic on my sore muscles, and the last twenty-four hours of sweat and grime sluice down the drain.
It’s then that I allow my thoughts to drift back to her. Although they’re never far away. I imagine her bent over as she was in the garden and then spread before me on the counter. My cock hardens instantly. I let my head drop back into the spray and try to think of anything else, but the images are burned into my brain.
If this were any other day, any other time, I’d be able to resist the need to grip my hard length in one fist, but with running on no sleep and my need for her at a fever pitch, resistance is a thing of the past. A breath hisses out of my lungs as I stroke myself and think of all the ways I would have shown her my appreciation if she’d been in bed with me when I woke up.
I imagine her on her hands and knees on the bed in front of me, ass up in the air. Her cheeks spread wide for me, teasing me with a glimpse of her wet, swollen femininity. She would arch her back and make that little sound in the back of her throat that drives me crazy. I groan again at the thought of it. My dick becomes impossibly hard underneath my stroking hand. The sounds of the shower and my surroundings fade away as I imagine her moving her ass against me. I would tangle her hair in one hand and pull it back as I teased my cock against the entrance to her pussy. She’d make a desperate sound, and that’s when she’d start begging. Damn, but I love the sound of her begging.
My hand strokes harder as my breath comes in desperate pants. This isn’t gonna take long, I can tell already. Just like I know it wouldn’t take long if I ever get my hands on her again. I’ve missed her. So fucking much. Last night wasn’t nearly enough to sate how much I want her.
I’m not even embarrassed that the thought of pushing my hard cock inside her wet heat has me coming all over my hand. A sound rips from my chest, and I slap my forearm on the wall to keep myself upright. The orgasm is quick and ruthless. Not nearly enough to slake all the desires I have inside me, but enough to clear my head. At least for now.
I finish the shower with an efficiency born from habit. I wash my hair, scrub off the last twenty-four hours, and get dressed.
I know I fucked up pushing Tana away the way I did. It probably hurt her feelings, and she didn’t deserve it. She hadn’t done anything wrong. It was me. Just because this is hard on everyone doesn’t give me the right to take it out on her. Besides, we need to talk about what happened the night before.
When I’m dressed, I get fresh sheets and make all the beds. I don’t know what it is about a fresh, clean bed that makes me feel better, but as soon as they’re done, I’m reassured. Tana used to do all this stuff for us. She practically decorated the whole house and couldn’t seem to go a month without changing something around or finding another perfect accessory.
Mom takes the girls for some change of scenery—and to give Tana and I some time together. After that feverish shower, I probably should have asked them to stay, but Gemma and Paisley desperately needed to work off some of their returning energy. I spend the next hour cleaning up the carnage from the night before, switching over laundry, and scarfing down a bowl of Mom’s homemade chicken noodle soup. By the time I hear the front door creep open, I feel almost human again.
I stride into the living room, fully intent on delivering an award-worthy apology. Then, I’m going to grovel. And if that fails, I’m gonna convince her to let me have a taste of her again until she forgives me. Except the sight of her stops me in my tracks.
“What in the holy hell is that?” I ask, eyeing the ball of patchy fur in her hands with trepidation. It lifts its head, revealing glowing yellow-orange eyes, and I frown. “Is that a cat?”
“Don’t be mad,” she says and cuddles the purring mass closer to her chest. Great, now I’m jealous of a cat.
“I’m not mad,” I say softly. I consider bringing up what happened between us but set it aside for now.
“It’s a stray and doesn’t have anyone else. She needs a place to stay while I figure out a home for her.” Her eyes are big and bright. Even if I were going to say no to her—which, let’s face it, rarely happens—the look of desperation in her eyes would have swayed me. I’d give her anything—everything—at this point.
“You don’t have to convince me. This is your house too. You don’t need my permission.” I move closer to pet its soft fur. Giving her a wry smile, I say, “You realize once the girls see you’ve brought a cat home, they’re going to riot. You’ll be lucky if you can convince them to let it leave if you do find another home for her.”
She groans. “I didn’t even think of that, oh my god. What are we going to do?”
“Why don’t we start with cleaning her up some, and you can tell me what happened.”
“And the doctor says we can either leave the leg the way it is and deal with the disability or schedule a consult with an orthopedic surgeon, which could be expensive.” Tana is nearly out of breath as she rambles on after we dry off a very distressed cat. “I’m sorry again about springing this on you. I should have called and asked first, but I didn’t even think about it. I didn’t know what else to do, and I couldn’t leave her to starve.”
Her eyes plead for me to understand, but she doesn’t need to explain anything to me. She may not remember her past, but the woman she used to be would have done the same thing. My wife has always had a heart of gold and would give the shirt off her back to someone if they needed it.
“Looks like she’s in luck. Have you decided on a name yet?”
Tana blinks owlishly at me. “I didn’t get that far,” she admits with a laugh. “Maybe we should let the girls decide?”
“Probably a good idea. They’ve always wanted a pet.”
The cat settles into Tana’s lap, tail wrapping possessively around her wrist as it begins to purr. Tana studies me. “Why didn’t we ever get one?” she asks.
