Page 37 of Heal For Me

My room at Uncle Jet’s is amazing, but waking up to Ash breathing against my neck is better. He’s so peaceful when he sleeps. Since my surgery yesterday he’s been over-the-top helicopter. Constantly checking on me even if I told him a single minute before I was fine.

I appreciate it, though, and it feels amazing for things to be somewhat normal between us. I know before surgery I had a breakdown, but I’ve been fine since. Maybe it’s the medication they have me taking. Ash is meticulous with the medication, only giving me a single pill when necessary, and he double-checks my mouth to ensure I swallowed. He mentioned something about me storing them or something absurd, but I don’t argue.

If I’m being honest with myself, the weight Ash carries is enough to make me want to kill myself, for real this time. Knowing I have caused him so much . . . chaos, is deafening. I love him more than I’ve ever loved anything, but look what I am doing to him. Look what I do to everything and everyone around me. If only everyone else understood how much better their life would be if I wasn’t here to weigh them down with my issues.

I lightly drag my finger over that deep crease between his thick eyebrows and frown. I love the way it shows his age, and I love the scowl that causes it, it’s knowing the reason for the scowl that leaves the pit in my stomach opening wider, threatening to swallow me whole.

“Good morning, Jailbird.”

Ash’s morning voice is even sexier than normal and his accent is the thickest when he is tired or drinking.

“Hi.”

Thick arms wrap around my center. He doesn’t pull me against him, most likely because my leg and the stupid brace they have me in, but I relish in the comfort of him anyway.

The surgery went well, as far as I know. Ash said it was quick. It hurts more now than it ever did but the doctor said that is normal and once I’m healed, I will be as good as new. Ash mentioned I will probably need to wear a brace for a while, though. I guess that’s fine, as long as it doesn’t affect my playing.

“What do you want for breakfast?”

It’s totally inappropriate for me to be horny with everything going on, but holy shit, his morning voice is panty wetting. With my leg, I’m unable to roll to my side, but I attempt to push my ass into his groin, happy to already feel it hard. I know it’s from it being morning, but I don’t care. It’s been too damn long since I’ve felt his erection. My hand slips between us and I wrap it around his shaft. He tenses and pulls me tighter against him, trapping my hand between us.

“We can’t,” he growls into my ear, but it’s weak.

With my hand trapped, I grind my hip into him instead, and he groans my name. A sound I love to hear.

“Please,” I whisper.

“Payson.” The distress in his voice almost makes me feel bad for pushing him. Almost. He nuzzles his head into me and breathes. “You are going to be the death of both of us, babygirl, and there is not a single better way I’d rather go.”

My stomach aches knowing he is probably right. Especially knowing what I know now, but I push that to the back of my head where it belongs and focus on the now.

“Please, Ash.”

He tsks and nips at my ear, not enough to hurt but as a warning. “What do you call me?”

“Daddy,” I breathe, and when he moans low and steady into my ear, my entire body pricks with goose bumps.

He releases my arm enough I’m able to stroke him.

“You have no idea how bloody good that feels, Jailbird.”

I squeeze him tighter than I should, and he grunts. I scowl when he peeks an eye open at me. “If I’m going to call you daddy, then you’re definitely not going to call me that.”

“You can’t deny you love when I call you jailbird anymore, Jailbird.” Ash presses a wet kiss to the side of my face and licks. “Not when that’s the name you reacted to when you were in your coma.”

Damn my subconscious. “Fine. But it’s babygirl when you are about to fuck me.”

His laugh is deep and rich, like a really good chocolate sauce. “Deal—babygirl.”

I continue my slow stroking, and his hand ventures around my body. He rolls my nipple between his thumb and finger, and my back arches. The movement tugs on my knee, and I grunt, but the pleasure outweighs the pain. Ash pushes my back down with the other hand.

“If we are going to do this, you are going to tell me when it hurts, Payson. No more pain.”

If his voice wasn’t clue enough he isn’t kidding, the use of my full name is. “Okay,” I say, although I’m not sure how to survive without pain; as long as I can remember, it’s been a part of me.

His hand on my stomach slides down my front onto my good thigh and lifts it enough to wrap around his hip and exposing me completely. I tried to go to bed naked, but he demanded I wear a shirt after I refused to put on an entire outfit. I guess he thought the thin fabric would keep us from doing this.

I impatiently wait for him to touch me there, but he teases me everywhere else instead, so by the time he does, I’m nearly falling a part.

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