It’s amazing how you
can speak right to my heart
Without saying a word,
you can light up the dark
Try as I may I could never explain
What I hear when you don’t say a thing
The smile on your face
let’s me know that you need me
There’s a truth in your eyes
saying you’ll never leave me
The touch of your hand
says you’ll catch me whenever I fall
You say it best when you say nothing at all
All day long
I can hear people talking out loud
But when you hold me near,
you drown out the crowd
Try as they may they can never define
What’s being said
between your heart and mine
You say it best when you say nothing at all
Alison Krauss – When You Say Nothing At All
I have a death grip on Eric’s hand. I thought I was prepared for this, turns out I was wrong, I’m an anxious mess. I even had an extra week to prepare too, since they postponed it. I guess you just can’t be prepared for stuff like this.
While I’m a nervous wreck, Eric’s more of an angry bear.
Ever since Thing One and Thing Two were brought into courtroom anyway.
Slimy bastards. Orange with chains is definitely the look for them.
Eric turned sideways so I’m basically behind him instead of beside him now. I know he did it to hide me from them. They both looked at us and Jacob with hateful glares as they were pushed down into their seats. The judge slammed his gavel down and yelled at them to pay attention, but they still keep eye balling us over their shoulders every once in a while. I swear Eric growls every time they do to.
I can’t believe they have the audacity to be angry at us. We didn’t rob or shoot at them. We’re the victims and we didn’t turn them in either, they got caught all by themselves.
Guess you can’t rationalize the irrational though.
I haven’t been listening to a thing the DA and defense lawyers are saying, guess that would explain the shock I’m feeling right now.
Just to our right is a TV, not one of those old ones on top of a tall rolling cart like in elementary school either. No, this is a huge flat screen. My heart lurches and plummets to the pit of my rolling stomach. It may as well be hooked up to a taser with the way it’s spasming. I’m frozen, trapped when I desperately want to run. My mind is screaming at my eyes to look away, they don’t listen. My turmoil is hidden from everyone else in the deathly silent room as we watch that nightmarish day played back in high definition.
The first bullet grazes Eric’s head. A sharp gust of air force’s my lungs to expand, then they too are frozen.
“God, I’m so sorry,” Jacob whispers behind me.
One, two, three, four more bullets slam into the man I love, his strong, healthy body being ripped and broken violently. Blood, so much blood.
A rush of acid surges up my throat, caustic and sharply bitter. I look away before I throw up everywhere. It’s only then I feel the wetness on my cheeks and my hand, cold, sweaty, and shaking. The latter isn’t coming from me.
I nearly cry out when I look up at him, ghostly pale, shallow breaths, and wild eyes.
Why didn’t that fucking DA warn us? I should have thought about what this would do to Eric the second I knew what was happening! We never should have come! He lived it, but seeing it like this, with no warning, reliving it…
My own riot of emotions vanish, only his matter right now. I hurry to sit on his other side, reaching up and turning his clammy cheek towards me and his eyes away from the grisly scene still playing out on the tv. I would have him out the door and out of this courthouse completely if he could move fast enough. He looks back at me like a wild animal cornered. I beg him with my eyes to see me, to know it’s over and that he’s okay as I stroke his face with both hands. Touch can ground me enough sometimes to keep me from falling off the cliff, I pray with everything I am it works for him right now.
Thank God it does.
He’s breathing erratically still, but I can tell he’s with me again. His face is a moving picture of his feelings- shock, fear, sorrow, anger. He doesn’t know what to feel and who could blame him? He leans over to rest his head against my shoulder. We hold each other, without a word, safe in our bubble until someone taps my shoulder.
“Those assholes just pled not guilty,” Jacob whispers and I immediately hear the rumble of angry voices growing louder throughout the courtroom.
I look up at the detectives sitting just behind the DA hoping to see that Jacob is wrong. He isn’t. Both Bryant and Marks are shaking their heads, their expressions disgusted.
My objection soon joins theirs.
“NOT GUILTY? Are they insane?”
“Fuck, yes,” Eric growls.
The DA turns and scowls darkly at us. Shit, I didn’t mean to say that out loud. Eric, I have no doubt, did.
The gavel cracks like thunder around the room. “Everyone settle down,” the judge booms with authority.
Things One and Two smirk like the complete assholes they are as the rest of us go quiet.
“DA Hardwick? I assume you have something to say?” the judge asks, clearly jaded to these types of criminals and proceedings.
“I do, Your Honor. I ask that both of the defendants be held without bail. The Court is aware that this is not the second offense or even the third for these two. Both are extreme flight risks and a threat to society.”
“Your Honor,” one of the defense attorneys starts to object, but is quickly cut off.
“After what we just saw you do not get to finish that sentence. Both will be held without bail at Coastal State until trial. The preliminary hearing is set for three weeks from today. Dismissed,” he grunts, banging the gavel again.
Most everyone gets to their feet and starts to file out the door, neither Eric or I move a muscle until the DA motions us to follow him. I help Eric up, it takes some time, he’s stiff from sitting for so long. Like zombies we trail after the attorney. It’s not until we all make it into a small room filled with a sizable wood table and expensive rolling chairs that I realize we aren’t the only ones who followed.
Bryant and Marks are here, along with Jacob and the other kid from Starbucks, and two of the other customers. I’m not proud of myself, but those two kids are on my shit list. I really want to know why they had two criminals after them. I doubt we’ll ever find out though.
Hardwick waves his hand to get us to sit, Eric does so reluctantly. I wince as I help him, knowing it’s hurting him. He’s had two weeks of PT, but he’s by no means healed yet, and the therapy is grueling. His muscles stay stiff and sore these days.
Hardwick’s doesn’t waste anytime once we all sit. “Thank you all for coming, I believe it helped. Judge Baynor is known to fold to victims nine times out of ten.”
Well, I would hope so!
“You will all be getting calls from my office about the court dates and issued subpoenas to testify at the preliminary hearing too. Times will need to be set up for me to question each of you and prep you too. Please work with my office to get that done as quickly as possible. This should be an open and shut case, easily won, but I won’t be lazy and let things slip through the cracks. I plan on them being in jail for a very long time once we’re done with them,” he assures us. “Any questions?”
“Is it completely necessary for Sookie to testify? I don’t want her up there on display for those fuckers or to be ripped into by their slimy lawyers,” Eric growls, squeezing my hand.
I know he just wants to protect me, so I don’t say anything, but I will testify. Those assholes are going to jail for what they did to Eric, with my help.
Hardwick sighs, “I understand the reluctance, Mr. Northman, but, yes, I’m afraid she does. I mean no offense to you, Miss Dawson, but women can sway a jury like no other, especially sweet attractive women who fall in love with the dashing hero. You two will be our most important witnesses if you can control your outbursts. You both basically yelled out for them to take an insanity plea. That can’t happen again and I really don’t want to, but I can force both of you to testify if you don’t cooperate,” he says seriously.
Eric scowls at him darkly and I take that as my cue to jump in. I don’t care for Hardwick’s attitude either, but he’s right. “I want to testify, Eric. I’ll be okay. I need to do this for us,” I whisper to him.
He stares at me unhappily, but nods his head before closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Go home and rest, I’ll be in touch,” Hardwick says softly, his hard, DA exterior slipping for a moment.
Bryant and Marks walk out with us to the foyer of the courthouse. Just before we get to the doors Bryant reaches out and gently pats Eric’s good shoulder, “We won the first battle. We’ll keep winning them, don’t worry.”
“Thank you, Detective,” I tell him with a small smile since Eric only managed a nod.
We make the slow trek to the car, Eric refused to wait on the curb for me to pick him up, and I help him get settled. He looks so tired and I know he’s in pain too. His brow keeps drawing up over his eyes. He always does that when he’s hurting. This is his first time using the crutch for so many hours. Other than PT and sex, he’s in bed or in the recliner at home. We left at eight this morning and it’s after three already. Most of his day was spent sitting on a hard, unforgiving bench. It was too much for him. Even if he hadn’t seen the video he would be having a rough day. At least he let me cancel his PT till next week.
I start us heading towards home, staying quiet and letting him think. There’s no point in asking him if he’s okay, I know he’s not and he would just lie and say he was anyway. I take the time to think things over myself instead. Other than getting justice for Eric, going through a trial is the last thing I want to do. We’ve had six weeks to move on and we were doing so good too, now we have to relive it over and over. It’s not fair, we went through enough already.
I glance over at him. His head is laid back on the seat, eyes closed, and he has somehow managed to slump his long body into what looks to be a very uncomfortable slouch, like he’s reverted to a teenage version of himself. I hate how much stress I see on his beautiful face.
He must feel me staring at him, because he turns to look at me, “Why don’t we pick something up for an early supper? You won’t have to cook,” he mumbles.
I reach over and run my fingers through his hair, “You know I don’t mind cooking. I love to see you inhale my food,” I tell him with a wink, hoping to get a smile out of him. It doesn’t work.
“I know you don’t, but you deserve a break. How about bar-b-que? If you aren’t sick of it.”
The man loves his bar-b-que.
“Sounds good to me. Which way?”
He directs me to a tiny place, no bigger than two food trucks put together called Bob-O’s-Que. It only has a walk up window and an almost nonexistent drive thru. I order us two sandwich plates with teas once we make it through the ten minute wait. When I go to pay I spot a big cake sitting under glass on the counter and add two slices to our order. It looks like something Gran would have made, fluffy white icing with lots of pecans in it. I haven’t had a good piece of cake in ages and we deserve a treat after the day we’ve had.
I open the container and take a deep whiff of the slices before passing them over to Eric. He’s got small grin tugging at his lips and there’s a little sparkle in his eyes. He’s so beautiful it hurts. It hits me right there in the drive thru how much his happiness means to me. I never want him to be sad, upset, or anything but happy.
I tear up as I smile back at him, but hurry and get us out of the way before we make some hungry customers cranky.
“Hey. What’s wrong?” he asks worriedly, trying to lean over to me.
I stop before pulling out into traffic, turning to focus on him, “Nothing is wrong. I just love you is all,” I explain, giving him a quick kiss.
“You’re crying because you love me?” he wonders doubtfully. “Why do you do that?”
I smile, but keep my eyes on the road as I pull out. “Yes, I am and because sometimes I just can’t help it. We really need to teach you what happy tears are, sweetie,” I suggest, reaching over to rub his knee.
He huffs, but with a grin, “I guess we do.”
We ride a few more miles in silence, then he asks, “Sookie?”
He doesn’t answer right away and there’s too much traffic for me to take my eyes off the road. Finally I hear him draw in a deep breath. “I love you too,” he whispers shakily, as he lets it out.
I immediately reach my hand out to him and he wraps his tightly around it. I don’t dare peek over at him, knowing my tears will turn into rivers if I do. So we ride home, nothing but sniffling breaking through the quiet, our hands firmly locked together.
We eat our food in more silence. It’s very easy to see how upset he still is. He didn’t finish his food, or ask for my leftovers either. That didn’t even happen when he was in the hospital. I thankfully got him to take some of his migraine meds as soon as we got here. I knew from the way he had been rubbing his temple and neck when he got out of the truck he had one. It’s not until I pull out the cake that his somber mood seems to lift a tiny bit. He grins over at me as I cut off a huge chunk with my fork and stuff it in my mouth. Soooooo good! I can’t help the moan that slips out. It’s so rich and creamy.
“I haven’t heard you moan like that since last night,” he purrs out with that deep velvet voice of his, his eyes dark and heated as they pierce mine.
The first one wasn’t intentional, but his words immediately make me glad it slipped out. I barely manage to hold back the second one his words evoke. Last night was…..
Damn, but the things that man can do with his tongue.
This is the first time I’ve gotten a glimpse of my relaxed, happy guy since we left this morning. No way am I letting him slip away. I get up, forgetting my cake, and walk over to him, unbuttoning my blouse as I go. He pushes his chair back from the table and I move to straddle his lap. His big hands slide into my shirt and wrap around my waist, then he slowly lowers me down. My skirt rises up to the top of my thighs as he does.
I had in mind for us to go slow and gentle, but the second I’m settled over his stiffening erection his lips crash against mine. He doesn’t need slow right now it seems, so I kiss him back just as hard and urgent as he is me. He feels desperate to get me closer, his hands gripping and needy. I give over to him and let him take what he wants. Maybe after seeing how close he came to death he needs to feel alive? I’m more than willing to help him.
I touch every inch of him I can reach that won’t cause him pain, as our kiss turns almost violent. It’s the saltiness that I taste on his lips that makes me finally slow us down.
I pull back from him, but he follows me until I take his face in my hands holding him still. My palms find his tears before my eyes do.
My heart feels like it’s shattering.
“Eric, my love. Please, baby? You’re here. You’re okay. Everything’s okay. You beat those assholes, honey. You won,” I whisper to him, stroking his face, my own tears flowing now.
“Sookie, we almost fucking died!” he nearly yells, angry and scared too, roughly pulling away and looking anywhere but at me.
“I know, baby, but we didn’t. We lived, Eric. We lived because of you,” I respond as calmly as I can, gently rubbing his chest. My words bounce right off of him. Even though he isn’t looking at me I can see the pain in his eyes, the intense frustration, the fear.
“I can’t stop seeing it. I can’t stop seeing him touch you. I can feel him poking me in the chest with the gun. I’d forgotten what it felt like, but I feel all of it again. Every bullet burning through me. I keep hearing you screaming my name and I can’t make it stop,” he whispers anxiously.
I wrap my arms around him and hold him tightly, trying hard to keep myself calm and not lose it. That’s the last thing he needs. The hardest thing is; I know there is absolutely nothing I can say to make this better for him. He needs time, it won’t go away with just a few words.
“Make it stop, Sookie. Please? I need you to make me forget again,” he begs me, his hands grasping at me.
I know he needs more than sex to get passed this and I can’t help but think of how he handled grief in his past, but there is no way I’m telling him no, so I start placing kisses along his neck and jaw and then up to his lips. He kisses me back, only a little less forcefully than before, but I don’t stop him this time. My shirt gets pulled off and I start unbuttoning his, kissing across his collarbone once I have it exposed.
“Get this off me,” he growls, tugging impatiently against the wrap holding his arm down.
“Eric,” I warn.
“Sookie get it off me. I’m fine, you know I’m getting it off for good tomorrow anyway,” he argues, trying to reach around his back and pull at the velcro.
“We don’t know that. You need another x-ray,” I try to reason with him.
“Please stop arguing with me woman. I know my own body, my shoulder is fine. Take the damn thing off,” he demands.
He’s getting angry quick, so I give in. But only because Dr. Ludwig and Tristan told me he was healing right on schedule and he is suppose to get it off tomorrow.
“I will beat your award winning ass if you wind up hurting it again,” I tell him sternly, as I help him out of it.
“I won’t, see?” he says, pulling his shirt off with ease and moving his arm around for good measure. “I’m fine,” he declares, wrapping me in his arms tightly and kissing me again.
God, that feels good. He’s held me so many times, but this is a first. We both enjoy it too.
He’s right back to desperate, his lips, tongue, and hands everywhere, and don’t do a thing to slow him down until my lips become so swollen and bruised I have to give them a break.
I slip off his lap, despite his growls and hard grip, and kneel between his legs. I undo his belt as quickly as I can and he gets the hint, lifting his hips just enough for me to get his pants and boxers halfway down his thighs. It was tricky with the raging erection he has. I start to lean over and take him in my mouth, but he stops me.
“No, I need to be inside you,” he groans, pulling at my bra to get me to stand back up.
Once I am he reaches under my skirt and rips my panties down and pushes my skirt up around my waist. I was running on mostly emotions before, now the lust is pulling ahead. He yanks me forward by my waist, rips the cups of my bra down, and clamps his hot mouth over one straining nipple, making me whimper.
I clear my head enough to step out of my panties that were tangled around my ankles, then straddle him again. I rub my aching core over him slowly as he sucks and bites at my nipples. His fingers suddenly grip the hair at the base of my skull, pulling my head back forcefully, “Enough! Fuck me, Sookie. Now,” he growls into my neck harshly.
“God, Eric!” I gasp, a deep shudder running through me. I manage to line myself up over him though and he slams me down over him the second I do. I cry out from being filled so quickly, so fucking completely, but nothing has ever felt better.
Our bodies and their needs take over, wild, almost brutal in their actions. His grip on me unyielding as he jerks me down over and over again. I’ll definitely have bruises. I don’t care. I’ve never been fucked so hard and fast in my life and I love it. He’s hitting that perfect spot with every stroke and I shatter too quickly, screaming out his name.
He doesn’t slow down though, pulling me down faster and harder, and I thrash my head side to side with the intensity of it all. The line between pleasure and pain blurs more than it ever has for me. It needs to stop, but I never want it too.
“Oh God! Eric! I can’t!”
“Yes, you can. I’m not stopping until you cum again, Sookie,” he pants roughly. “You better fucking cum.”
“Oh, no! No! Ahhh! Oh, fuck! Oh, yes! FUCK! YEEEESSSS!”
“FUCK, FUCK, fuuuuckkk!”
We shudder and shake uncontrollably for a few seconds then collapse into each other’s arms.
I moan, pant, and whimper my way into a orgasm coma against his shoulder, completely blissed out. At some point he begins to rub my back and it wakes me up enough to register the dampness against my neck.
I sit up and his head slides down to my chest. “Eric, honey? Are you okay?” I ask him softly, stroking the back of his hair.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers.
“Sorry?” I wonder incredulously. “For what, baby?” I pull his face up to look at me. His eyes are red and glassy with tears. “Oh, my love. Please don’t? I’m okay, we’re okay. Everything’s alright, sweetie,” I whisper to him, pulling him into a hug.
“No it’s not. I’m a asshole. I never should have treated you like that,” he says dejectedly.
I pull back from him again and force him to look at me, “Stop that right this second, do you hear me? Don’t you ever apologize for making me feel like that. It was amazing, Eric. I’ve never been so turned on in my life, or cum harder. I refuse to let you feel sorry for that.”
“But, Sookie, I treated you like one of…..”
“No. Don’t you dare,” I shake my head at him. “Today sucked a big fat hairy ass.” He lets out a wry huff, but his eyes lighten a bit along with it. “We both needed that, baby. I’m in no way upset with you or a bit sorry for it,” I assure him, kissing his lips softly. “Unless we hurt you.”
He shakes his head, “I don’t think so. The pain meds will take care of it if we did,” he mumbles.
I’m going to give him more before bed just to make certain.
I lean forward and let my lips linger against his cheekbone, then lean my forehead against his, “I love you so much, Eric. So, so much,” I whisper.
He pulls me into a hug and buries his face in my neck, “I love you too, Sookie. More than anything.”
I get up as soon as he lets me and carefully help him get his pants all the way off and then into bed. He’s so exhausted. I clean him up with a warm washcloth, then tuck him in.
“Are you gonna lay down with me?” he asks hopefully.
I brush his hair back and give him a kiss, “I’m gonna go clean up our supper and then I will, okay? Give me ten minutes.”
“Five,” he pouts.
I smile and kiss him again, “Okay five. I’ll be right back.”
I slip quietly under the covers beside him four minutes later. I thought he was asleep, but he reaches for me and mumbles, “Snuggle with me,” never opening his eyes.
I curl myself around his side and kiss his chest. He pulls me closer, “I love you.”
“I love you too, baby. Get some rest.”
He moans then is snoring a few seconds later.
Very unpleasant and unmistakable sounds wake me up around dusk. Eric’s in the bathroom throwing his guts up.
I scramble out of the bed and run in to check on him. He’s heaving and panting, braced over the toilet. It looks like he tried to hit the hole, bless his heart, but since he can’t squat down, a good bit of it missed from the height it had to travel from.
I grab a washcloth and run cold water over it and bathe his neck and face with it until he’s finished, then wipe his mouth.
“I’m sorry,” he pants, ghost white and standing on one shaky leg.
“Hush, it’s not your fault. Here, can you lean against the counter? I don’t want you to fall.”
He nods and I help him over there. I let him rest his head on me while he gets his breathing more even.
“You think you’re done?” I ask softly a few minutes later.
He sits up with a deep sigh, “I think so,” he whispers, still weak.
I give him a little cup of mouthwash, he swishes and spits, then I wipe the sweat off his face with the cool rag, “Is it the migraine?”
He looks at me, his eyes tired and sad, and just shrugs. My guess would be no, but I don’t push him to explain.
“Do you wanna go lay back down?”
“Yeah,” he nods.
I wrap my arm around him and help him back to the bedroom. As I’m getting him settled I notice the sheets are damp. He must have been feeling sick for awhile. I don’t know how I didn’t wake up, he had to have been tossing and turning at least some.
“Why don’t you scoot to my side, sweetie? The sheets are damp. I wish you had woken me up. Promise me you will next time?”
“I hope there isn’t a next time,” he groans, moving himself over with some effort.
“Me too, baby, but I’m fine with you waking me up if there is, okay?” I tell him as I walk around the bed.
“K,” he sighs, sinking into the mattress.
I lean over and kiss his forehead, it’s still clammy. “Will you be okay while I go clean up?”
“Fuck,” he breathes out heavily. “You’re always having to clean up after me. I’m sorry,” he apologizes
“Shhhhh, it’s fine. Are you okay for a few minutes?”
He sighs again, “Yeah.”
I pick his hand up and kiss his fingers, “I’ll be back. Yell if you need me.”
He’s out cold by the time I finish, so I take a bath to clean myself up some, leaving the door open so I can hear him. I was afraid I wouldn’t if I took a shower. I finish that, get dressed, let Roxie out for a bit, and start a load of laundry. He sleeps through it all. I’m glad I took a nap, cause I have a feeling we’re gonna be up most of the night. There’s no way he’ll be sleepy any time soon.
I’m about to go lay down with him when my phone rings, I grab it up off the dining room table before it wakes him up.
“How’d it go today?”
“Hi, Pam. How are you?” She has the worst phone manners.
“Fine. So how did it go?” she asks again.
“I’m fine too, Pam. Thank you for asking,” I say just to needle her.
“Sookie, for fuck sake,” she groans. I swear I heard her eyes roll.
I let out a deep sigh, “I suppose it would depend on how you look at it. The bastards will stay in jail until the trial, but that’s about the only plus we’ve had today.”
“Why, what happened?”
“The DA played the security tape from Starbucks.”
“Fuck. Eric saw it?”
“Yeah. It really messed him up, Pam. I’m worried. He’s been too quiet, he didn’t eat hardly anything today, and he threw that up almost an hour ago. He got another migraine, but I’m pretty sure he had a nightmare and that’s what made him sick. Other than that he’s been asleep since four thirty.”
“Yeah. I don’t know how to help him.”
“Oh, bullshit. If anyone can, it’ll be you. Just do for him, what you wanted people to do for you.”
“I wanted to be left alone to die, Pam. I’m sure as hell not gonna do that.”
“Of course not,” she huffs. “Sookie, you two are so connected it’s pathetic. Just follow your gut. You haven’t failed him yet.”
“I’m trying. I’m willing to do whatever he’ll let me.”
“I know you will and more importantly, so does he.”
“Are you still coming?” I ask her. She suppose to be here tomorrow night, but she’s had to cancel twice already. I hope that’s not what she called to tell me again. I know she can help lift Eric’s spirits if she gets to come.
“My flight leaves at noon your time. I’ll rent a car so you don’t have to pick me up. Just text me the address.”
Thank goodness. “Okay. I’m so glad you’re coming. He needs you.”
She huffs with a little more humor this time, “Not as much as he does you.”
“Pam! That is not true. He’ll always need…”
Ugh! Sometimes I can’t understand her. No, make that most of the time. How siblings can be so different is beyond me.
I go back to the bedroom and pull the comforter over the sweaty sheets, then lay down and flip through a magazine. Roxie jumps on the bed and curls up beside her daddy, sniffing and licking him a few times before going to sleep herself. They are so sweet together.
About an hour later, his baby blues finally open again. “Hey,” he croaks.
“Hey, baby,” I smile at him, reaching over and taking my bottle of water from the nightstand and handing it to him, then I take it back once he’s sucked down a few swallows.
“Thanks,” he says, rolling over towards me.
“Look at you on your left side,” I smile, scooting down under the covers and laying beside him,”Feeling any better?” I ask, kissing his cheek, then running my fingers through his messy hair.
He grins a little, but then reaches up and rubs his face wiping it away, “Yeah, I guess. What time is it?”
“Damn. I don’t know what brought all that on, but I guess I needed some rest,” he mumbles.
I think I know, but I’ll keep those thoughts to myself.
“How’s your head and stomach?”
“Better. Sorry I made a mess.”
“Stop apologizing, sweetie. You didn’t do it on purpose. Do you think you could eat something? You haven’t had much at all today. I could fix you some scrambled eggs and toast,” I offer.
“That sounds good. Thank you, beautiful,” he says, absentmindedly, looking down between us.
“You’re welcome,” I whisper before kissing his forehead, then moving to get up. Maybe he’ll perk up once I get some food in him.
“Wait,” he stops me, reaching over and pulling me into a hug.
God, I really, really love feeling both of his arms around me. I hug him back tightly and throw my leg over him to feel even closer.
“You’re amazing, I hope you know that,” he whispers into my neck, rolling us over so he’s on top of me for the first time ever.
“Eric,” I gasp from worry and pleasure combined.
His weight on me, coupled with the gorgeous view of him above me steals my breath and soaks my panties so quickly it’s embarrassing. In the back of my mind I know exactly what he’s doing and I shouldn’t let him do it again, but I’m helpless. I love him too much to cause him any unhappiness. He needs time and he needs me, I’ll give him both, just like he’s done for me.
“Hush your worrying. Look,” he fusses, nodding his head to where I can see his broken leg pulled up beside us under the covers. “I won’t put any pressure on it, I promise. Now slide yours out from under it so I can lay between your perfect thighs. I’ve waited six weeks, that’s fucking long enough,” he informs me, his voice rough and he’s staring at me so intensely it’s a miracle I don’t go up in flames.
My worry flies right out of my head. I dreamed of this moment the day I gave him that first sponge bath. This is so much better. I quickly, but carefully, pull my leg out from under his then pull my knees back so he can lay right where we both want him. He’s there before I draw in a breath, pressing hard and hot against me.
We moan together as he slowly rocks over me. He’s so hard and probably aching as much as I am. I may cum just from the sight of him alone. I’ve never seen anything more arousing than having his body looming over mine, his skin taut over his straining muscles, lips parted as he pants deeply, and his eyes…
If someone asked me to show them what passion looked like, I would show them his eyes. His beautiful, beautiful eyes. When he looks at me like he is right now, I swear the feeling in my heart is my soul is trying to escape just so it can be closer to him.
My hands go to his chest and I rub them over every inch of his skin that’s been denied to me for the last six weeks. Somehow it feels even better under my hands than the rest of him.
My heart clinches every time I feel one of his scars.
I slide them over his shoulders and down his back to his perfect ass, pulling him tighter against me.
“Sookie,” he groans, “You are never allowed to wear panties again. If you don’t you move them I’m gonna cum all over them.”
Jesus, I don’t know which of us is panting harder.
I reach down and jerk them to the side and he immediately slides into me in one long, slow stroke.
“Oh, sweet fuck,” he grunts, gathering me up in his arms, pulling us closer together, his breath hot against my neck.
“Eric,” I sigh, my hips lifting us off the bed, taking him even deeper.
Our bodies take over just like they always seem to do, rocking in perfect rhythm, even if it is slower than our usual speed. But there is something to be said for slow and deep, I’m already at the edge. We’ve made love at least twice a day for almost three weeks now, but this is different. I guess people frown on plain old missionary, but having the man you love over you, his weight pressing you into the soft bed while he buries himself deep within you over and over, his moans hot in your ear…..it’s perfect.
Eric lifts his head and starts kissing his way down from my neck to my breasts. When he reaches my right nipple and starts to lave it with his tongue, that’s all it takes. The sight and feel of it makes me explode around him in one of the most intense orgasms I’ve ever had.
When I come down from my high, he’s looking down at me, his arms braced on either side of my head, his eyes smoldering while he strains to hold still.
How in the hell did I get so lucky to have this gorgeous man fall in love with me?
I reach up and cup the side of his face, stroking my thumb along his cheekbone, and doing my best not to cry, “I love you, Eric.”
The heat slowly starts to fade from his eyes as he stares at me. Everything he feels for me and about me is shining out of them in quick succession. I can see it all start to overwhelm him, his eyes growing huge, soft, and glassy.
I can’t stop the tear that slips down my temple.
“Don’t,” he whispers, his voice paper thin, wiping the damp skin the tear left behind with his thumb. “Please, don’t.”
He’s begging me to stay in control so he can too.
I bite my lip hard and give him an awkward nod shake, then reach my hand around the back of his head and pull him down so his face is in my neck again. I’ll never be able to hold the tears back if I can see his beautiful face.
I press my hips up into him to encourage him to move. He does, slow and deep. When I start squeezing him with every outward stroke he makes, he speeds up at little, his moans growing louder with each one.
A deep shudder runs through me when I feel him swell inside my walls, then he’s shuddering while his hips jerk over and over, groaning deeply. Feeling him cum inside of me is almost better than cumming myself.
I run my hands up and down his back as he goes limp on top of me. He’s heavy as hell, but I could care less. I wait for his breathing to calm down, fully expecting him to fall asleep on me, but instead it becomes more erratic. He suddenly pulls out of me, scoots down my body until his head is on my chest, then rolls us to our sides, holding me tightly.
“Eric, are you okay?” I ask worriedly, the sudden change scaring me a bit.
He squeezes me tighter and whispers against my boob, “Yeah.”
He doesn’t sound it, but I give him some time, hoping he’ll talk to me. I don’t want to push him, so I hold him close and play with his hair instead.
It’s a good five minutes later when he asks quietly, “How do you do it, Sookie?”
“Do what, baby?”
He’s quiet for so long I wonder if he’s forgotten what he asked me, then he growls, “I’m so fucking angry,” throwing himself onto his back. “I’m furious and I’m.…. I’m…” He moves again, this time sitting up on the side of the bed, leaning his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. I probably shouldn’t but I sit up behind him and run my hands over his back and place a few kisses over his spine.
“My stomach is in fucking knots,” he sighs. “I keep seeing that fucker pointing that gun towards you and I want to kill him Sookie. I want to go over to that prison, scare them both so bad they shit their pants and then I want to kill them. Slowly.”
His voice became darker with each word he said. He meant all of them.
I’ve been there. I wanted the man that hit Trey’s truck to die a thousand deaths. There were many times I thought of finding him, of putting a gun to his head and then I would put it to mine. I figured we were both to blame for them leaving this world, so we had no right to stay in it either. Thankfully I never made it past my front door.
“I know. I know exactly how you feel,” I whisper while wrapping my arms around him.
He puts one of his arms over mine, “Fuck, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be whining. What I’ve been through is nothing compared…”
“No, Eric,” I cut him off. “Don’t do that. What I went through doesn’t make yours any less horrible. You can’t compare them that way. Those bastards took something from you. You have every right to be furious, every right to feel whatever it is you’re feeling. Don’t make less of it because of my past. Be angry, be sad, be afraid, feel whatever you need to, it’s okay.”
He doesn’t say anything right away, but takes my hand in his and presses it to his lips, leaving it there for awhile.
“I’m angry, but not because they shot me, well, I am, but that’s not the worst. The worst part…and it’s completely irrational, because you’re right here holding me, but I can’t stop myself from being terrified that they’re gonna take you,” he says, his voice full of pain. “That’s why I got sick before. I had a nightmare. It was that day all over again, but a thousand times worse.”