Page 30 of Romancing the Rude Guy

She finishes chewing and regards me with puzzlement. “Hmmm?” Then her expression brightens. “Oh! You mean, Harry? He’s an old coworker of mine.”

There’s nothing in her open, happy face or cheerful tone that says she’s lying. It’s all me being a jerk and automatically thinking the worst.

“Always fun catching up,” I say, injecting a lightness in my voice I don’t feel.

“Do you want this?” she asks, pointing to the last cookie.

I push the napkin toward her. “No, you enjoy.”

The rest of the visit is uneventful, though I can’t help zeroing in on all the couples strolling around hand in hand and wondering if Alice is looking at them too and thinking about what she’s missing out on. It’s kinda hard to hold someone’s hand and propel myself forward with one arm.

We stop at a chain restaurant on our way back to my house and, no surprise, all the handicap spots are taken. Finding a spot with enough room to get my wheelchair out proves difficult, which doesn’t improve my mood.

Thankfully, they have a table for us and the meal itself is good. The company is even better. Being with Alice, I forget that I’m a guy pushing forty and in a wheelchair. Okay, maybe not the wheelchair part, but I enjoy that it’s not a big deal to her. She doesn’t give me special treatment and even seems to enjoy my sardonic sense of humor. For a bit I can even forget that this relationship isn’t going to work out long-term and simply enjoy living in the moment.

That night, I eat her out until she’s gasping and panting, lying there among the rumpled bed sheets that smell like us.

I refuse to take off my pants, but she brings me to orgasm with her lips and hands, stroking, caressing, and playing with my upper body. My ears and nipples are particularly sensitive erogenous zones, and she zeroes in on them and leaves me crying out in pleasure as I come hard.

After cleaning up and doing my nighttime routine, I crawl into bed beside her and fall asleep with her curled around me.

The next morning I wake up with a straining hard-on and Alice nibbling on my neck. Her hand drifts down to my groin, and my first instinct is to stop her.

I fight that urge and instead concentrate on the sweet pleasure of her stroking my cock through my loose pajama bottoms.

“Can I?” she asks, dipping a finger into the waistband.

Sucking my lips between my teeth, I give a hard and fast nod.

Her warm hand tunnels into my pants, her fingers wrapping around my length.

I gasp at the sensations.

Up and down, her fingers explore my cock. I fist the sheets and pant, only to let out a long groan when she squeezes the shaft and begins jerking me off.

It doesn’t take long before I cry out and come. The intensity of my orgasm takes my breath away, and I lay there with my eyes closed, just trying to process how I ever got so lucky while she slides her hand out of my pants.

“Marcus!”

At Alice’s sharp cry, my eyes fly open, and I look up to see her staring down at me in panic. Or rather, at my lower half.

A glance down shows my left leg twitching madly as the muscles spasm. All I can feel is a slight burning sensation, which I’d ignored in favor of the far more pleasant after bliss of a climax.

Reaching down, I give my leg a few taps, not that it ever helps, but hey, maybe I would get lucky this time. They make medicine for this, but the spasms happen so infrequently that I just deal with them rather than add more pills to my daily meds. “Sorry,” I mutter.

“Sorry?” Alice cries. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know I would cause this.”

My gaze darts to her, and she looks on the verge of tears.

“No! Alice, you didn’t cause this.” I open up my arms. “Please come here.”

Warily she lays back down and curls on her side, though she doesn’t touch me.

“I’m not glass. You’re not going to hurt me.” I place a hand on her shoulder and urge her to slide closer. After a pause, she does and rests her head on my shoulder.

My cum is sticky and cool on my belly and I try to ignore that as I comfort her. “They’re muscle spasms. They happen from time to time. It’s nothing you did.” I give a chuckle. “What you did felt amazing.” Brushing a kiss on her forehead, I tell her, “I loved it.”

I feel her smile against my shoulder and that warm feeling I get around her intensifies. I have a good idea what’s going on, but by not giving it a name, I’m hopeful it will hurt less when the time comes and she’s no longer in my life.

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