I closed my eyes and passed out as I felt him lie down on the other side of the bed. Knowing he was there meant that I slept deeper than I had in the many years he’d been gone.
I instinctively knew that nothing could hurt me when Patrick was there.
It was when he left that bad things happened.
***
We spent the next day at the hospital, becoming familiar with Nix’s room and the cafeteria. There was something I loved about the food there. It reminded me of school lunches when I was a kid—grilled cheese sandwiches and hamburgers that tasted satisfyingly like rubber. The coffee sucked, though, and by that evening, I was dragging ass again. I was too old to function on four hours of sleep.
“Gonna head out for a bit,” Patrick told Nix, watching him closely. “Boys wanna see ye before we go.”
I wasn’t sure what passed between them in that look, but minutes later, Grease, Dragon and Casper were filing into the room, their large bodies crowding it a little too much for me to be comfortable.
“Jesus, Nix, they got you good,” Casper said in surprise.
Nix flinched, but nodded silently.
“Hell, that’s nothin’. Shoulda seen Dragon when Poet got through with him,” Grease chimed in, leaning forward to shake Nix’s uncasted hand. “Good to see you, man.”
“Yeah, you too.” The swelling in Nix’s mouth had gone down a bit, his words more clear than they’d been the night before.
“I was pissin’ blood for weeks,” Dragon grumbled, nodding at Nix. “Have fun with that.”
I watched my son’s body go from completely rigid to relaxed within moments, and I could have kissed those three boys.
“Stop fuckin’ complainin’, ye wean.” Patrick grumbled.
“I only understood about fifty-four percent of what you just said,” Casper commented to Patrick in bewilderment. “Did anyone understand that shit?”
Nix started to laugh and then winced. “His accent always gets thick like that when he’s around my mum. Never fails.”
“Yeah, but do you have any clue what he’s sayin’—”
“Met your man last night,” Grease interrupted Casper and I braced myself. I’d seen the way they’d been staring at Mat. “I can see the draw—dude’s almost as pretty as a chick.”
Nix laughed then groaned, but the smile stayed on his face. “Mum calls him Ken.”
“Yeah, he does kinda look like one of the Barbies Trix has lyin’ around,” Dragon commented, making all the men laugh.
“I’m mostly jealous that he’s prettier than me,” I joked, winking at Nix.
“Not possible,” Patrick argued with a small smile. “Ye good here?”
“Yeah, we’ll be fine. Mat should be back in a while with Nix’s stuff.”
“We’ll see ye soon, yeah?” Patrick said, turning to Nix and kissing him on the forehead.
Dragon and Casper’s mouths dropped open in surprise, but Grease just smirked.
“Let’s go, boys,” Patrick called as he walked away without waiting for them to follow.
“You didn’t say your mom was hot,” Casper complained to Nix as they reached the doorway, which had Grease shoving him into the wall so hard I knew he’d have bruises.
“Keep pushin’ and Poet’s gonna have your balls,” I heard him mumble.
Nix and I were quiet for a few minutes, and the lack of noise was kind of nice. We hadn’t had much time to just be over the past almost twenty-four hours, and it was comforting to be in the same room with my boy and not have to fill the silence with chatter.
We understood each other better than anyone else, and I wasn’t sure if that was normal, considering my son would be thirty soon… but I didn’t really care, either. For so long, we’d only had each other. We were a family of two, and luckily for me, I didn’t seem to annoy him too badly. I knew that he had his own life outside of me—Mat was a big part of that—and he knew that I needed space. We worked in a way that only two people who knew each other inside and out could. My kid was a genuinely cool guy and even though he was grown, I still loved hanging out with him.
“I’m sorry, Mum,” he said after a while.
“For what?” I pulled the scarf I was knitting out of my purse and tried to get my hands situated on the needles. It didn’t matter how many years had passed since Peg had taught me to knit, I still couldn’t do anything more intricate than a long piece of fabric.
“For all this.”
“Don’t be an idiot.”
“I’m not. I know this sucks for you. You hate hospitals.”
“Everyone hates hospitals.”
“You hate them more than most people.”
“That can’t really be determined, can it? I mean, who are these ‘most’ people. How many is a ‘most’? I mean, some people only go to hospitals when babies are born, so they don’t really count—”
“Christ on a cracker, Mum! Could you shut up?”
“If I have to.”
“You have to.”
“Fine.”
We were silent again while I stewed, but I knew at any moment he would once again bring it up. He’d never been able to stay quiet unless it was on his own terms. We could eat an entire dinner with no words spoken, but if he wanted to say something and I asked him to be quiet? He could not hold that shit in.
“I’m just sorry I scared you, and that you’ve had to be here with me all day.”
I continued to knit quietly.
“You can talk.”
“Oh, can I?”
“Stop being an ass.”
“First, let’s get one thing straight,” I said, dropping my knitting to my lap and turning to face him. “You can’t control what other people do, therefore you couldn’t control whether or not you’d be in the hospital at this particular juncture.”
“You’ve been reading again. I can tell by the words you’re using.”
“Second,” I raised my voice above his, “I would rather be with you—even in this smelly ass hospital—than anywhere else on earth.”
“Fair enough.”
“I’m always fair… and right.”
“I’m going to sleep, okay?”
“Having your buds come to visit tired you out, huh?”
“They’re cool, right?” he asked, closing his eyes. I felt bad for him, because I knew he’d never be comfortable on his back. My kid was a stomach sleeper, always had been.
“Yeah, and good looking.”
“Shut up.”
“Did you see Casper’s eyes? Good Lord.”
“Mum.”
“And Dragon, with that long hair? Jesus. I think I need to read a historical romance novel soon… I know who the mighty brave will be.”
“I’m going to vomit.”
“Don’t even get me started on Grease.”
“I’ve been trying to stop you for five minutes.”
“Muscles,” I sang.
“You’re insane.”
“Love you.”
“Love you, too… most of the time.”
I smiled to myself as I picked up my knitting again, listening to my son breathe. The noise on the monitors was extra, the heart monitor more of a nuisance than anything, but when I heard him breathing just a few feet away, it made me feel like all was right in the world again.
“His eyes are incredible,” he murmured sleepily before nodding off.
***
Patrick and the boys never made it back to the hospital that night. I finally left Nix’s room at almost midnight and drove straight to the hotel room that Patrick had booked for another night. I’d grabbed some clothes from my apartment during the day while Nix had been resting, and I was so glad I had. Even though I’d planned to sleep in my own bed that night, I couldn’t make myself go that far from the hospital.
Nix was going to be fine. I knew that intellectually. However, emotionally I was still scared out of my mind. I’d almost lost him. If someone hadn’t seen him lying in that parking lot, he could have bled
to death.
I had to try and balance my need to be up his ass all the time and the need to get some actual sleep in a bed.
The hotel seemed like a solid middle ground until I walked into the room as Patrick was walking out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but a towel slung around his waist.
“You’re back,” I announced stupidly, letting the door swing shut behind me.
“Didn’t take long, yeah? How’s Nix?”
“He’s good. Mat was staying with him again tonight, so I was going to try and catch some sleep. I’m pretty sure he’s getting sick of me by now, anyway.”
“I doubt dat,” he said, shaking his head as he stepped into a pair of boxer briefs and pulled them up under his towel.
“How—” I cleared my throat as he pulled the towel away, trying to get a hold of myself. “Mums seem to annoy grown sons regularly. There are about a thousand sitcoms based on that very premise.”
“Not yer son,” he argued, drying his beard and hair with the towel. “Yer son t’inks yer de shite.”
“That’s because I am.”
“Ye just made me point.”
“You wear boxer briefs now? When did that happen?” What the fuck was I saying? I didn’t care about his underwear. I didn’t care about it at all.
“What?” he asked in confusion.
“Forget I said that.”
“Ye like me underwear?”
“No, you look like you’re trying too hard.”
“Because I’m wearin’ boxer briefs?” He was looking at me like I’d lost my mind, and I was pretty sure I had.
“You’re too old for boxer briefs.”
“Yer too old for dose fuckin’ booty shorts I know ye have under dat skirt, cause I saw de outline of dem at de hospital earlier.”
“Did you just say booty shorts?”
“Ye’d call dem somet’in’ different?”
“Um, underwear that comes in a pack of ten. That’s what I’d call them.”
“Don’t care where dey came from, I’d still like to see yer arse cheeks hangin’ out de bottom of ‘em.”
I opened my mouth, then closed it again. I had no idea what to say to that. We were venturing into dead man’s land, and I’d fucking led us there.
“Ye plannin’ on standin’ next to de door all night?”
“What?” I looked around me, then shook my head. “Uh, no.”
I’d carried my bag with me from my car, and I dropped it near the dresser so I could rummage through it for some pajamas. I wasn’t going to wake up again with my freaking skirt hiked up to my waist and lines from the chest band of my bra permanently imbedded in my skin.
Without another word, I scooped up my things and stepped into the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind me. I needed a shower—a cold one—and a couple of minutes to get myself together.
“Ye couldn’t have grabbed an old t-shirt or somet’in’?” Patrick grumbled as I stepped out of the steamy bathroom a half hour later.
“I’m wearing shorts underneath, ya dirty old man.”
“I can be much dirtier, love,” he said hoarsely, sitting up from the bed. “Just say de word.”
I’d dated a few men in the last couple of years, nice guys, but not one of them had caused such a primitive reaction in my body. It was as if the closer he got to me as he crossed the room, the more my body heated and softened. My fight or flight response never kicked in, and I blame the stress I was under for the way I immediately began to justify my need to run my palms over all of the smooth skin that was just feet away from me.
Maybe if he’d gotten dressed in a nice pair of pajamas instead of prowling around the room in nothing but those boxer briefs…
“I’ve never wanted anyt’in’ as much as I want ye,” he said reverently, reaching out to run his finger over the strap of my nightgown laying against my shoulder.
“Word,” I choked out. I only said it once, but in my head it was ringing out over and over again.
“Yeah?” His hand slid up to cup the side of my throat and I shuddered.
“Yeah,” I confirmed.
His other hand came up until they were both on my neck, tilting my head back as he stepped into me. The first kiss was tentative, our lips barely brushing, but when my hands lifted to rest on his chest, all bets were off.
His mouth pressed against mine as he groaned, and I immediately opened up, letting his tongue slide between my lips. Kissing had always been flawless with us, a choreographed dance that had us tilting our heads just so for maximum impact, and even after years apart and different lovers between us, that hadn’t seemed to change.
Chapter 52
Patrick
My hands were shaking so badly and I couldn’t seem to stop them.
I had her. She was right there in my arms and she wasn’t pulling away. She wasn’t pulling away.
It was a fucking miracle.
This wasn’t a desire to comfort me like it had been the last time. Dear God, it had been twenty years since she’d had her hands on me that way. How could so much time pass by in the blink of an eye? It was both incredible and incredibly humbling that the minute we touched, all the years seemed to disappear.
“On de bed,” I ordered, running my hands down the front of her body until my fingers were gripping her hips. I wanted to spin her around and slap her ass to get her moving so I could watch it as she climbed onto the bed, but I didn’t dare let go of her. I was terrified that if our connection broke for even a moment, she’d realize that she didn’t really want me.
“You’re bossy,” she said, stepping backward.
“I’ve always been bossy.”
“You never needed a bed before. Too old to nail me against the wall?”
She was baiting me, pushing to get what she wanted, and my cock was so hard from her tone that it was about to rip through my briefs.
“We’re gonna be at it a while, yeah?” I replied, drawing a deep breath in through my nose to calm my breathing. “I want ye spread out and comfortable.”
I dropped my hand to her thigh as she reached the bed, and listened to her breathing speed up as I pushed the nightgown to her waist.
Shorts my arse. They were underwear, and just as I’d imagined, they only covered half of her cheeks.
“Dis comes off,” I rasped, gripping her nightgown and pulling it over her head.
I stopped then. Everything stopped—my hands, my breathing, my heart.
She was everything I’d missed for years, and more than anything I could have imagined.
Her chest was heaving, and her breasts swayed, the hard nipples pointed toward my chest like little beacons. They weren’t as perky as when we were young, but they were heavy and thick and I couldn’t help the sound I made as I stared. I drew my gaze downward, over her oddly shaped bellybutton that I knew came from when she’d carried Nix, and the small white lines that zigzagged their way from the top of her underwear to halfway up her stomach.
I wanted to cry in that moment. Why hadn’t I paid attention all those years ago? Why hadn’t I taken the time to really see the body she was showing me and realized then, before it was too late, that I wanted to see that skin stretched tightly over our child? I hadn’t catalogued her changes then; I’d been too anxious to get as close to her as I could.
Perhaps if I had been less selfish, I’d have found a way to make her love me again.
“You’re staring,” she whispered, running her hands down my belly.
“I’m in awe.”
“It’s just a body.”
“It’s yer body.”
“It’s getting impatient,” she said slyly, running her nails up my chest and pinching one of my nipples between her fingers.
It was like a jolt straight to my balls, and I felt my cock twitch as I shuddered.
I grabbed her hand in mine, pulling it up to my head, and leaned down to pull one of her tight nipples into my mouth, drawing a moan from us both. Her fingers curled into my hair the way I’d known
they would and I pushed her back gently until she was falling onto the bed. When she got there, my lips popped off her nipple and her hands fell down beside her head, raising her breasts slightly on her chest. Fuck me. Her laid out before me was every dream, every fantasy and every sight I’d believed I’d never see again.
I flipped her over.
I couldn’t stop myself.
I had to see those fucking booty shorts.
Her back arched, tilting her round ass toward me. I stared for a moment, running my hand down her bare back, stopping just short of the waistband of those beautiful, beautiful underwear. When her hips began to sway the tiniest bit from side to side in an unconscious movement, staring was no longer enough.
I grabbed my cock and squeezed it hard as I leaned down and bit the meaty part of her ass just below where it was covered by fabric. The overwhelming urge to bite harder flashed through me, but instead, I sucked hard.
“Shit!” She gasped beneath me, and her back arched more than I would have imagined was possible. “Again.”
I moved to the other side and bit down again, growling as she pressed back against my mouth. Christ.
I wrapped my hand around the back of her thigh and pressed her leg onto the bed, opening her up to me. The center of her panties were dark with arousal, and my mouth watered as I ran my nose down the back of her thigh. As I made my way back up, she was trembling, and I swear to Christ she screeched as I bit into the skin where her ass met her thigh.
My hand moved quickly, tugging her panties to the side and feeling no resistance as I pushed two fingers inside her. She was shaved bare, hot and soaking wet, and her muscles clamped down so tightly I had a hard time pulling my fingers back in order to thrust again. I turned my hand, instinctively moving the tips of my fingers to the spot I knew would have her crying my name. Even after all those years, I still knew exactly how deeply I needed to press my fingers inside Amy before curling them back.
“Patrick,” she groaned, her hips rolling against my face and hand. As her breathing grew shallow and her body began to shudder, I wondered what the fuck I was doing.
I pulled my hand away, making her yell out in protest, then ripped her underwear down her legs, leaving them at her knees as I pulled apart her ass cheeks and pressed my mouth against her wet cunt.