Page 91 of Handle with Care
“That’s right, I’ve seen everything,” I tease affectionately. “And I love what I’ve seen.”
I’m rewarded with his blush.
I stand up and pass over his crutches. He emerges from the shelter of the throw blanket, also getting up on his one leg and reaching for his crutches after he’s up. Now, I can see his jeans are pinned up on his other leg.
“With the migraine, everything felt off this week,” Will explains. He runs a hand through his hair, leaning on his crutches. “Phantom pain in my leg, and a little weight loss means the fit of my prosthesis isn’t quite right. Plus, I feel my balance is off with the migraine, so I’m on these.”
“Gorgeous, you don’t need to explain anything to me.”
And it’s true enough, he looks thinner, which probably means a few days of not eating. Which also definitely means dinner’s on the cards for tonight.
Will gazes at me, his expression soft. “Let’s go home, Dylan.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Idrive with the best care and attention into London, faithfully following the GPS to Will’s neighborhood. Despite Will being an anxious passenger at the best of times, he drowses a little on the way back, leaning his head on a pillow against the window. Right-hand drive is definitely not second nature to me, but it’s easy enough to get in the rhythm of things, even if I have to consciously think about making right turns or translatinggive waysigns intoyield. There’re a few road markings that I don’t know what they mean, but we arrive safely on Will’s street.
At last, he stirs, sitting fully up. He runs a hand through his hair, getting his bearings as I creep along.
“I’m assuming it’s free-for-all street parking?” I ask.
“Yes.” Will nods, gesturing at the line of cars parked on either side of the street beneath leafy trees and impressive pale Victorian brick buildings. “It might take a couple of tries since it’s Friday night.”
Before long, I’ve parallel parked to Will’s satisfaction. “Arrived safe and sound,” I announce, grinning at him. “Now what?”
“If you don’t mind getting the suitcase, I can manage everything else.”
“Deal.”
Will finds his crutches in the back seat. He makes his way up to the front door. I lock the Land Rover with a flash of lights to enable the alarm, rolling the suitcase along, then carry it up the front steps as Will unlocks the front door.
Trailing him inside, I step over the fallen letters on the entry mat. I gather the envelopes and set them on the hall table, then take the suitcase into the bedroom. I put the suitcase on the bench at the foot of the bed, along with his messenger bag. Then it’s Will’s turn to follow me, I discover as I turn around to go find him.
We’re caught in the dim light of the bedroom, the light falling from the entry hall behind him, the glow of the London night from the half-shut wooden shutters over the windows. Will leans against the doorframe, watching me.
And I love gazing at him in this moment, the way the light catches his face, the fall of his hair over his brow, his expression a little wistful. And more than that, full of longing. There’s something bittersweet in it. Probably because this most likely is a limited-time offer.
Watching Will, I swallow hard, wanting to remember this moment too. Wanting to memorize everything about it and him and how incredible it feels to be together right now. In the distance, we hear a car go down the street, a dog barking, people walking past outside, laughing on their way to Friday night plans. The summer heat lingers after dark. There’s a time before Will, and everything after.
At last, I go to Will, catching his face between my hands. Ever so slowly, I brush my lips against the heat of his mouth, till he whimpers with desire. His body is taut with want.
“Come here…” I draw Will to me, kissing him reverently so he knows how important he is to me. After this week of high tensionand stress, of being apart and wondering if I lost everything sacred. Like I’ve lost where my heart lives.
Will shudders, leaning into me, and then I lead him over with teasing kisses to sit on the bed. We explore each other leisurely, as if we have all the time in the world. Together, we make something whole. And right now, this is everything. More than everything, being here with the man I want.
“I love you, Will.” My mouth sears a path along his jaw, his throat, and I call his name again. My hand runs along his stomach as he shudders, tracing the tension in his body, down to the outline of his cock already pushed against the fabric of his jeans.
He leans his forehead against me, gripping my shoulders like I might disappear from view right in front of him. “I love you too. I want you so much it hurts.”
“I’m right here.” My assurances have a time limit, though, and we both know it. Like we can hear the minutes ticking past.
I draw Will into a deeper kiss as he wraps his arms around my neck, burying his fingers in my hair. He presses into me.
Every nerve is alert to him in my body, highly sensitized. The way we kiss is transcendent, his heat and mine entwined into right now and tomorrow and yesterday. With fingers that are usually so steady, they tremble as I unfasten his jeans and cup the strain of his erection through his cotton boxers. He jerks hard into me.
“Yes,” Will breathes. “Please.”
I help him out of his underwear, his jeans. He sits waiting for me on the bed once he’s stripped off his shirt and taken off his prosthesis, watching me undress. And there, in the spill of light, he glows. All we see is each other.
