“Uh-uh,” I admonish her. “You’re sick.”
“Sorry,” she mumbles, casting her eyes down toward my chest. “I know I look awful.”
Sliding my hand up her body, I bring my fingers under her chin and tilt her head up to me. Leaning in, I give her a kiss and then rub my nose against hers. “You don’t look awful. You look as beautiful as ever and you can feel I got a fucking hard-on, so you know I’m turned on by you. But you need rest. The sooner you get better, the sooner we can get back to the fucking.”
Her cheeks flame hot, but she’s bold as brass when she says, “I’m not tired though.”
“Rest,” I affirm.
Giving me a coy smile, laced with a bit of evil, she says, “I could… you know, relieve you if you wanted. I hate thinking about you laying there, all hard, pulsing, and aching…”
“God, you’re so bad,” I groan, and I turn my face into the pillow. She laughs softly at me and tries to push her hand down in between our bodies to touch me. My hand immediately stops her. “Savannah… so help me God, if you don’t stop, I’m going to tie you up.”
“Now, that’s what I’m talking about,” she exclaims as she tries to grab my cock.
Releasing my hold on her, I roll out of the bed and glare down at her in disapproval. She fucking grins back at me. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to either take a cold shower or jack off, you heathen woman,” I snarl at her.
She grins even bigger. “Can I watch?”
“Fucking death of me,” I mutter as I turn away from her and head into the bathroom. For good measure, I shut the door behind me and lock it so she won’t be encouraged to get out of bed when she should be resting.
I walk up to the vanity and rest my hands on the edge, lifting my face up to look at myself in the mirror. I’m met with my reflection wearing a big ass fucking smile on my face. I positively beam.
A smile that Savannah put there, and I don’t ever want to lose again.
Reaching down, I tug on my cock through the material of my boxer briefs and consider jacking off. Then I decide against it, because if Savannah has to wait, I will too. Starting the shower, I wait for the water to heat and step out of my underwear. Just as I open the door to step in, I hear Savannah rattling the doorknob.
“Filthy boy,” she calls out, her voice still raw so I know she should be resting. “Can I please come in and watch?”
“Go away, Sweet,” I growl. “I’m not letting you and your wicked ways in.”
I hear her laughing at me and then it’s silent, so I assume she finally heeded me and went back in bed.
God, I’m so freaking horny I can’t stand it.
Me… Savannah Shepherd, the woman who can count the number of men she has been with on half of her right hand. The woman who didn’t know multiple orgasms were possible. The woman who had never had a man in her mouth.
So freakin’ horny.
After two more days of bed rest, where Gavin catered to my every need, he finally let me up and about. He wouldn’t let me do anything but sit on the couch, forcing soup and the antibiotics down my throat. Two more days after that, when he hadn’t heard my cough for at least eighteen hours, he proclaimed that I was “on the mend.”
On the mend, my ass. I am fully mended. Sure, I have a few more days of antibiotics left, which I will dutifully take, but I’m feeling fine and like I said… horny as hell.
I can hear Gavin up in his office, that damn chair he sits in squeaking and groaning periodically. I don’t dare disturb him up there, because that’s his private space and I know his mind is elsewhere.
Deciding to occupy my time, I mop the kitchen floor, dust the furniture, and do our laundry. When I finish, I’m not the slightest bit tired and slightly perturbed that Gavin hasn’t come down once to check on me. According to him, I was practically dying just two days ago.
Did I also mention I’m sexually frustrated?
With a determined straightening of my shoulders, I grab the vacuum and haul it up to the second floor. I walk into Gavin’s bedroom, unwind the cord from the back, and plug it in. I start on the far side of the room, closest to the bed, and start cleaning the rug. I start counting… slowly to myself, One, two, three…
I push and pull on the vacuum, bending to get it under the bed. Four, five, six, seven…
A few more strokes near the nightstand. Eight, nine, ten…
“What the fuck, Sweet?” I hear Gavin before I see him. Turning, I watch as he stalks over to the wall plug and pulls the cord out. The vacuum winds down to utter silence.