A Child's Heart (Trent & Cassie's Story) A River City Novel (24 page)

“Not so fast. I want to spend tonight with you, but
give me a chance.” His hand cupped her one breast, causing her to
groan. “Please--” The warmth of his lips as they slanted over hers
prevented her from doing anything, other than returning his kiss.
His tongue invaded her mouth and she sucked on it as heat pooled in
her pelvis. Mustering the strength to resist him, she placed her
hands on his chest and pushed away.

He stared at her with his gray-blue eyes. His
expression was one of rejection.

She smiled at him as she dropped the lock on her
door, and turned on another light. “We’re not randy teenagers, so
don’t look at me that way.” She gazed over her shoulder at him as
she walked towards her kitchen. “We have the entire night, and I
promise you’ll enjoy it.”

“Just what do you have in mind?”

Opening the refrigerator door, she grabbed a can of
whipped cream and grinned as his gaze locked with hers. “Why not? I
could handle a little snack.” She raised her eyebrows and smiled
broadly.

“Is there any fantasy you’re not willing to
fulfill?”

“As long as it’s only the two of us, then I’m
probably very willing.”

“You’re safe there, because I’m not into
sharing.”

“Good. Follow me.” She beckoned him with her
finger.

Once she had him in her bathroom, she began to untie
his sneakers. He leaned against her sink vanity and stretched his
long legs out. She liked waiting on him, and let that pleasant
feeling roll around in her mind for a few seconds. Knowing she was
saving him from leaning over and trying to do it, gave the act
purpose, but there was more to it. She pulled off a sock and gently
massaged his foot. It was soft and his toes were perfectly aligned.
She smiled sheepishly up at him and he grinned at her.

She took care of his other foot with the same
attentiveness. When she was done she stood before him carefully
removing his sling and the white shirt he was wearing. Three small
stitches held together small incisions. They looked like little
black spiders.

From everything the doctor had said, his injury was
merely the final stroke, but guilt wrapped around her gut and
strangled her. “I’m so very sorry.”

“I’m glad he didn’t hurt you.”

“I’ve asked myself a million times what he would have
done to me if you hadn’t come to my door.”

“He would have raped you.”

She closed her eyes and shook her head, trying to
clear the image of Hugh Fitzgerald from her mind. She opened her
eyes and stared at his chest. Strong muscles created valleys and
ridges and her fingers traced a few of those lines before brushing
over his good arm. Something deep in her soul responded by fanning
an ember within her as she touched his skin. The sensation was soft
and unhurried. Dropping her cheek to his arm, she lightly stroked
the soft blond hair on his forearms before lowering her gaze to his
fly.

She popped the snap and undid his
zipper, as he leaned forward from his perch. Easing his jeans over
his hips, she was very much aware that he might have been enjoying
her undressing him, but he was still quite relaxed. She pulled his
jeans off and tossed them to one side.
Now, for the real prize.
She eased
his boxers off his hips and saw the stirrings of an erection. He
stepped out of his boxers, as the back of her fingers ran over the
soft skin of his penis. She looked up at him and smiled.

He stared back at her. His gray-blue eyes watched her
every move as she began to slowly remove the dress she was wearing.
She tossed her dress with his jeans, and then reached behind her,
undid her bra, and unhurriedly removed it. Her nipples instantly
beaded from the heat of his stare and, when she removed her
panties, she heard the hitch in his breath.

She stood back and parted her feet enough to give him
a clear view of the jewels that hung from her labia. Turning, she
started the shower. When she turned back to him, he was sporting a
nice erection.

“We have all night,” she reminded him as she undid
her hair and allowed it to drop over her shoulders.

“You’re not playing fairly. You know I can’t touch
when I’m holding my arm.”

“You’ll have plenty of opportunity to touch, once you
are in bed and we get that arm propped.” She jerked her thumb
towards the shower. “In, so I can wash you.”

“But I want to wash you.” His eyebrows arched as a
grin played with the corners of his mouth.

“Oh, hush. I’ll make sure you enjoy this.” She
followed him into the shower and then hesitated as she reached for
the soap. “I guess I need to get something that is more masculine
in scent. You have your choice of plumeria, jasmine, magnolia, or
cucumber melon.”

His little grin became a big smile. “Magnolia. I love
the smell on you.”

She giggled as she grabbed the bottle and began to
wash him with the sweet scent. Her fingers swept over his body,
slicking every muscled curve with soap. With extreme care she
washed his shoulder and arm, avoiding the surgical sites.

Her own body pulsed as she washed his muscular legs.
Fine golden hair dusted most of his body and pooled at his groin.
Desire burned within her, but with it came an odd peace and joy.
She was no longer washing him, but rather, caressing him, as she
had never done to another man. It was erotic, yet sensual.

She poured more soap on her hands and began to slowly
wash her own body. Her hands ran over her breasts, circling them,
and her thumbs caressed her nipples the way he would have touched
her. She lowered her hands over her stomach and then between her
legs. She bit her lower lip as she inhaled. Wanting his hands
between her legs, she washed the jewelry that hung and then tugged
on it slightly, sending jolt of yearning into her well that begged
to be filled. She leaned over and washed her legs. When she came
up, she grabbed the bottle of shampoo.

With a sly smile, he asked, “Aren’t you forgetting
something?”

“Not at all. I’m saving the best for last.”

“I’m going to explode when you do it.”

“Then I’ll have to make sure it’s worthwhile.”

She washed his hair and then helped him rinse it
before doing her own. As she ducked her head under the shower, his
hardened rod pressed against her butt.

Quickly she rinsed the soap from her face and then
turned to him. “Anxious?”

“Naturally.”

She grabbed the bottle of soap and poured some onto
her hands. “You might as well lean back and enjoy this as much as
I’m going to savor doing it to you.”

He groaned as she wrapped her hands around him. His
erection was plastered tight to his abdomen and stretched clear to
his navel. She washed the rosy-red head and ran her finger around
the sensitive rim, creating more bubbles.

Every touch elicited a moan from deep in his chest.
His eyes closed as she held his scrotum in one hand, while her
other rubbed his long, thick, soap-covered length. His hips moved
in unison with her every stroke. Her breath hitched. He was
beautiful.

Her own need, fueled by what she was doing to him,
kept her on the very brink. She pressed her mons to his thigh and
he brought his knee up allowing her to ride him. The jewelry tugged
at her with each stroke.

Just as the realization struck that she wasn’t going
to be able to stand another second, the tiny vibration of his semen
being shot through his erection triggered her own body into an
orgasm. Her body stilled, her breath caught, as his seed flowed
between their bodies and over her fingers. Her breath escaped as
she leaned into him, his arms still crossed over his chest, yet she
could have sworn he had them wrapped around her, pulling her
tighter to him.

The only sounds she heard were that of their ragged
breath, and the water flowing from the showerhead onto the tiled
floor. Kneading his waning erection, she watched his eyes flutter
open. His mouth found hers. Her hands fisted and he pulled
away.

“Be gentle with the equipment.”

“Sorry.” She put her hands on his hips and leaned up
to his awaiting mouth. This time, she broke away from his kiss.
“Let’s rinse off so I can put you in bed, where you'll be more
comfortable.”

She dried him off with the same loving care. Then
quickly she blew her hair dry.

“Hand me my sling. I need to shave.”

She ran her fingers over his blond stubble. “No you
don’t. I like the feel of it, coarse and masculine.”

She led him to her bed and tucked several pillows
around him. “How’s that?”

“Oh, much better. Now I can hold you.”

Giggling, she grabbed the can of whipped cream. “Let
the fun can begin.”

She squirted a small amount on one of his nipples and
then proceeded to lick it off. “Delicious!”

She started to squirt again when he took the can from
her. “Nope! What you do, I get to do.”

“Really?”

“Watch me.” He coated her nipple, then pulled her to
his mouth. Exquisite pleasure ripped through her system as his
tongue removed every trace of white cream from her nipple. She took
the can, squirted some on his other nipple, and then straddled his
waist as she licked it off.

The grin on his face told her that he considered this
a game, rather than an erotic act. He covered her one breast in
whipped cream, then took his sweet time licking it off. Every swirl
of his tongue seemed to echo deep inside her. Her fingers grabbed
at the pillowcase as she tried to maintain some sort of composure.
Her vaginal walls pulsed, begging to be filled.

She pulled away from him. “That’s torture!”

“Hmm, maybe I should do it more often.”

“I’m not into kinky.”

He chuckled. “You’re not? I find that hard to
believe.”

“I’m not.” She sat on his hips.

“You’ve pierced your labia, and we’re playing with
whipped cream. What's next, handcuffs?”

“I don’t own any.”

“What’s that mean? If you did, you’d use them?”

She bit her lower lip. “I don’t know.” She closed her
eyes and thought for a moment. “No, I wouldn’t. Sex is reciprocal.
I want to touch and be touched.”

He grabbed the can of whipped cream and began to
shake it. “Now where?”

“Oh, no, it’s my turn.” She wrestled the can from his
fingers and then slid down to his thighs. Pressing the nozzle of
the can, she decorated him with a series of little swirls and added
an extra swirl at the very tip.

Her fingers were still wrapped around the can as she
dove down on her prize.

“Two can play this game.” He took the can from her
hand and squirted the cream over one of her fingers.

She gazed up at him once,
wondering what his intentions were before returning to the whipped
cream that was already beginning to run. He pulled her hand to his
mouth and when he wrapped his tongue around her finger, she
groaned. Each flick of her tongue was copied on her finger.
Ohmigod, is this what it feels like?

The more she licked, the harder and longer he got,
but it was her own body that screamed for orgasmic release. Quickly
she licked him clean and then stretched across the bed and opened
the small drawer of the nightstand and removed a condom. She tore
open the packet and sheathed him.

“Your path is blocked until you unlock it.”

“Well, get up here so I can see what I’m doing.”

She carefully moved her body over him, avoiding his
arm, and waited as his fingers fumbled between her legs.

“I can’t do it.”

“What do you mean you can’t?” She tried to look down
at what he was doing.

“I can’t do it one handed. You’re going to have to do
it yourself.”

“It hooks like a bracelet.”

“I can’t. I’m afraid I’m going to hurt you.”

“Just do it.”

“I can’t. What part of that did you not understand?
You’re going to have to do it.”

She swung her leg over him and climbed off the bed.
He followed her into the bathroom.

“I’m sorry. I really did try.”

Ignoring him, she pulled a small mirror out of a
drawer and propped it on the sink’s vanity. Attempting to see what
she was doing, she lifted her leg and put that foot on the cool
granite countertop. He leaned against her backside. She adjusted
the mirror. Her hands shook.

“Cut it off.”

“No.”

“I can’t enter you when my path is blocked.”

She tried again to undo the tiny claw. “It’s as if
its glued closed.” Her frustration level climbed towards her ears.
“This was supposed to be have been something that added to our
relationship. I’ve never been so acutely aware of this part of my
anatomy in my entire life.”

“Leave it.” He pressed his arm into her back for
support as his other hand snaked its way around her waist and
between her legs. “There are other things we can do, and you do
look like a woman in need.”

His finger dipped into her well and she sucked in a
deep breath between her teeth. “You’re going to make me come right
here.”

“What’s wrong with that?” He ground his hardened
shaft against the small of her back.

“I want you.”

“You’ve got me.”

~~26~~

There was a mad dash to get out of Cassie’s apartment
and to the hospital before Dr. Ramsey made his rounds. She and
Trent walked into Shawn’s room, and the child was wide-awake and
watching TV.

“Breakfast is coming. They’ve got the cart in the
hall,” Trent said to his son.

“The doctor is going to take the tube off my neck. It
itches and they told me I couldn’t touch it.”

“No, you can’t touch it. How do you feel?” Trent
asked.

Shawn took a deep breath and wiggled his legs.
“Fine.” He looked closely at his dad. “You got your cast off!”

“Yeah, I was having some problems with it. My doctor
said since I wasn’t a little kid, he’d let me out of it, but I had
to promise to be very good, or he’d put it back on.”