Page 34 of The Pursuit of Her Happiness

“Baby,” he whispers brokenly, his body undulating, dragging the underside of his dick along my clit.

I slide my palms along his chiseled jaw, the stubble abrading my skin as deliciously as it did between my legs. “You’ve always been mine, Bent. I just didn’t see it. I’m sorry we had to wait so long. But we’re here now and this is where I belong. I’m yours. Make love to me, please?”

Seeing Ford today, knowing he’s going to be ok, accepting that his words and actions were not solely his own…I’m free. Like I was trapped behind some invisible barrier, living in a self-imposed limbo, unwilling to take a chance. I walked out of that hospital room a changed woman. An unburdened woman.

I am Bently Walker’s woman. I’m done hiding, done trying to prove I can do everything myself, done trying to live up to someone else’s impossible expectations knowing damn well I will always fall short.

I deserve love, unconditional and fathomless. I said it months ago, but it wasn’t true at the time, but it is now; I am Quinn fucking Palomeni. And I want the dick.

Bent’s breath hitches, his pelvis moving, but his upper body drops til he’s flush against me. Our hearts beating erratically in sync. “You mean that?”

“Everything I am is yours. Do you want it?” I’m teasing, but there’s a kernel of insecurity in those words. He’s laying himself bare to me and I can only respond in kind.

“Forever.” On his fists, he hovers above me, and our eyes meet as he thrusts hard into me. My body convulses, his eyes roll back, and we both moan.

This. Is. Perfection.

An urge to cry hits me out of nowhere, but I’m overcome with emotion. Being connected like this to him, the final piece to a puzzle I didn’t know I was building. Slow but steady, hard and deep, he strokes inside me, changing me on a cellular level. I rake my nails down his muscular back, stretch to clutch the meaty cheeks of his ass to pull him deeper, cinch my legs around him. I can’t bear the scant distance between our bodies, needing his weight, needing him to surround me completely. I cum, a crashing wave of ecstasy that drowns me, amplified by the heat of his own release inside me. It’s messy, but so good. An unbreakable bond cemented by ejaculate.

I snort at my ridiculous thought. Within seconds I’m hugging him and sobbing and laughing hysterically. A catharsis that is no doubt terrifying the man currently softening in my twinkle cave.

This man has been patient and kind and giving and through it all he was sexy as hell. I can be all of those things, but I’m gonna look like a hot mess while I do it. Not Bently. Hell, he even took Salvatore to his Destination Imagination practice the other daywhile I had a doctor’s appointment. He didn’t press for details, just gave Salvatore a ride on the back of his bike and wrangled a bunch of middle schoolers into actually getting shit done. I might need to bring him to the rest of their practices if I have any hope of moving them along. Although, according to Sal, it’s because the others in his group have a crush on Polk. I can relate. I’ve got one too.

The man is a freaking unicorn. And his horn is magical.

“Quinn…you feel it? You all caught up now?” I nod, knowing exactly what he’s talking about. It took me a while to realize and accept what’s been happening, but I got here eventually. Still inside me, he shifts to his hip, our bodies touching along my entire side. His right hand slowly caresses my cheek. “I love you, Quinn.”

“Oh, Bently.” I sniffle, a few more tears escaping. “I love you so much.”

His lips stretch into a smile, despite the determined expression that overtakes his handsome face. “Then don’t fucking shut me out. I’m all in, darlin’. Those amazing boys. Your charming yet troubled ex-husband. School competitions. Weird blended family dinners. Doctor’s appointments.” He pulls out of me, then draws me into his arms, kissing the top of my head. “Happy, sad, angry, sick, I want everything you’ve got. You fight. I fight. You will never be alone again. I know that’s what you’re used to. And believe me, your strength is a big fucking turn on for me, darlin’ but I want you to be strong with me by your side. You put everyone else first, let me put you first. Let me take care of you. Let me love you.”

A laugh bursts free, “It’s like we share a brain.” He’s voiced nearly every thought I’ve had since I left Ford’s hospital roomand some before that. I decide to match him honesty for honesty. “I’m so scared, Bent.”

“About what? Me? Us?”

“No. Actually, you don’t scare me, us being an us doesn’t scare me, it grounds me.” I inhale, drawing his comforting scent deep into my lungs, letting it and his body heat fortify me to say the words out loud for the first time… “I have Multiple Sclerosis.”

“That’s what the doctor talked to you about in the hospital? Your appointments? Why you’ve resembled a pin cushion?”

“And why you herded a bunch of middle schoolers like they were wayward cats.”

“Cats are more well-behaved.”

“At least the kids don’t lick their own assholes.”

“Fuck, Quinn.” His body shakes as he laughs. I rest my head over his heart and settle in. “I won’t lie; I’m scared too. MS isn’t a joke, it’s tough, but manageable.” Bent kisses the top of my head again, then urges me back to stare into my eyes. I smile at the love that shines back. He’s so open, it’s refreshing not having to use a decoder ring to find out what’s going on in his head. “You fight, I fight, we all fight autoimmune diseases!”

I press my lips to his pec, arch my neck and put my game face on. “They may take my myelin sheath, but they will never take my freedom!”

Quinn 19.

“We’ll treat symptoms as they arise. The front desk will have dietary suggestions for you. Massages and regular exercise can do wonders for mind and body. I’ve also sent a few prescriptions over to your pharmacy. Two of them are for the numbness and tingling. With the steroid you need to watch for increased appetite and mood changes. And I’ll see you back in one month.”

“Thank you.” I breathe a little easier now that we’ve got a course of action. Polk shifts beside me, his arm wrapping around my shoulders. He squeezes slightly, knowing I’m gearing up to ask the big scary question. “Um, just one more question. Uh, I know that MS is different for every patient, but uh, how soon do you think I’ll lose muscle function in my legs?”

“That’s a common question, Quinn.” Dr. Orlosky sits back in his chair, his large desk between us. Steepling his fingers, he tilts his head side to side, “Nothing in medicine is exact, as you both know, however, I feel confident that you’ll need a walker in probably 40 to 50 years.” I blink at him, my mouth gaping like a fish. Polk snorts next to me. Dr. Orlosky leans on his desk, pinning me with a competent but friendly stare. “You will require assistance from old age before you will from MS. We’ve caught this early, Quinn. And with medication and a smart patient who’s going to follow my instructions to a T and a man stubborn enough to go toe to toe with her to ensure shecomplies…you’re gonna be inconvenienced, but I’d wager your future consists of happily chasing after grandkids.”

I swallow hard, my shoulders suddenly lighter. “Thank you,”I whisper hoarsely.

---