Instead of telling him all that, she smirked. “Well, I’m not the one lying in a CCU bed after having a major heart attack, so I think I’m looking a lot better than you right now. Or at least I hope I do.” Cass had spoken to his nurse, Nancy, before coming into the cubicle, and learned Dr. Chang had already seen Stefan and filled him in on everything that’d happened yesterday.
He snorted. “You always look better than me, because you are, my little pixie.”
Her heart skipped a beat at the endearment she hadn’t heard in weeks and at the way he eyed her, as if he were drinking her in and savoring every drop.
Not wanting to read too much into his words, she got busy plugging in the machine and getting the leads ready. Without her prompting, Stefan lowered the blanket and sheets to his abdomen and pulled the thin, blue gown he was wearing up to his chin, exposing his massive chest. Cass couldn’t help but stare for a moment, her hand itching to touch him—and not in a professional manner.
Mentally shaking her head, she began to apply the leads in the proper places across his upper and lower chest. He hissed when her hand brushed against a short, bright-red streak on his upper right chest. “Sorry about that. You have some slight burn marks from the defibrillator paddles.” She indicated a similar mark on the left side of his torso. “There’s another one here. It happens a lot, but they don’t look any worse than a sunburn.”
Frowning, he inspected the areas. “I guess a few mild burns is better than the alternative.”
She didn’t even want to think of the alternative, which would’ve put him in the morgue instead of the CCU.
“You know,” he said as she worked. “I don’t get it. I’m under forty, eat healthy, keep my cholesterol down, exercise, don’t drink much—how the hell did I end up having a freaking heart attack?”
Cass shrugged. “It’s not always poor habits. Sometimes it’s genetics, and sometimes it’s just Mistress Nature being a bitch.” She gave him a sassy grin. “So, Sir, what did you do to piss off the Mother of all Dommes?
A bark was followed by a chortle. “I honestly don’t know, but I’d love to find out, so I don’t do it again. I need to get back on Mistress Nature’s good side, I guess.”
“Yes, you do. You can start practicing now. Stay still and be quiet for a moment.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied with a grin.
After pushing the start button, Cass waited for the printout to stop, then she hit the copy button for a duplicate she’d leave at the nurses’ station for Dr. Chang.
“That was a nice sound,” she said softly as she removed the twelve leads from his chest.
His eyes narrowed. “What was?”
“Your laughter.” Cass couldn’t help it—her eyes welled up with tears.
She tried to turn away before he saw them, but Stefan grasped her elbow, stopping her momentum. “Hey, what’s this?” When she didn’t look at him or say anything, he squeezed her arm. “Little pixie, please tell me those tears aren’t for me.”
Using her other hand, she wiped her eyes and cheeks. “I’m sorry, Sir—” She glanced at the partially-opened curtain. “I mean, Stefan. I was—I was just so scared when I heard there was a Code Ninety-Nine—a cardiac arrest—in the ER. Then when I got there and saw Ian, Mitch, and your captain and master chief, I knew it was you. I-I thought we lost you. I thought I lost you.” Those last words came out on a whisper, and, for a brief second, Cass thought she’d kept them to herself. But when she finally met Stefan’s intense gaze, she knew she hadn’t.
“Aw, baby. Come here.” He pulled her until she was sitting on the edge of the bed next to his hip, then he cupped her cheek. His thumb brushed a tear away. “I’m so sorry I scared you, Cassie, but I’m still here, and I’m going to be fine. The doctor said I’ll be good as new in a few days. Don’t cry, please.”
Taking a shuddering breath, Cass nodded against his palm. “I’m okay. I’m just so happy you’re going to be okay too.” A noise outside the cubicle had her standing again. Even though today was her day off, it still wasn’t professional for her to be sitting on his bed while she was there for the purpose of doing his EKG. “Um . . . oh, did your folks come to see you yet? They weren’t in the waiting room when I walked by.”
“My folks? Are here?”
“Mm-hmm. Captain Lowe called them, and they flew down on the first flight they could get. They got here around ten o’clock last night and spoke to Dr. Chang. Captain Lowe arranged for a hotel room for them up the street, so they’d be close by. They were really tired when we left after midnight, so they probably slept a little late this morning. I’m sure they’ll be here soon, but they can only come in for ten minutes at the top of the hour while you’re in the CCU. Once you’re in the step-down unit, they can stay all you want.”
Stefan groaned. “Shit. Tell me they didn’t call my sister.”
Cass shook her head. “No. Your mom said Elin was in Italy with her girlfriend and was planning on proposing the last night they were there, which I think is Wednesday. Your parents didn’t want to interrupt their trip unless it was absolutely necessary. After finding out you came through the surgery okay, they agreed to wait until Elin got home to tell her.”
“Thank God. Elin and Tara have been together for three years, and my sister has been planning this proposal for months. She was so nervous about everything, and the last thing I want her to have to do is postpone it.”
“I know. Your mom told me all about it. I think it’s romantic Elin’s doing it at the Trevi Fountain.”
A smile spread across his handsome face. “Yeah, it is. Neither one of them had ever been to Italy, and it was on both their bucket lists, so Elin thought it would be the perfect place to propose.”
They stared at each other for a moment, and Cass found she was suddenly at a loss for words. Before she could come up with another topic to talk about, just so she could stay with him a little longer, the curtain opened all the way. A big, male orderly named Kelvin strode in, pushing a gurney. “Mr. Lundquist? Time for your MRI.”
Cass took a step back. “Um . . . that’s my cue to leave. If your parents are outside, I’ll let them know you’re going for the test.”
“Thanks,” Stefan replied. Then, before she had a chance to turn around, he added, “And Cassie?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for stopping by . . . and everything.”
She gave him a small smile. “No problem. You just get better, you hear? That’s an order.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
10
Lying in the MRI tunnel, Stefan’s back and head were killing him. His back because of the hard platform he was on, and his head because of the loud whirring and clanging noises the machine made as it took pictures of his heart, layer by layer. But neither pain was worse than the one in his gut. He couldn’t stop thinking about Cassie crying over him. His damaged heart had clenched when he’d seen her tears. What he wouldn’t give to take away her distress. His first thought on how to do that was to get his ropes and tie her up in a beautiful pattern until she couldn’t move at all.
Unfortunately, that hadn’t been an option for several reasons. One, he was in the hospital recovering from a freaking heart attack—did I mention I’m only thirty-eight years old? And two—he was no longer Cassie’s Dom. That fact saddened him more today, than it had in the past three weeks.
“Almost done, Mr. Lundquist,” a voice said through a speaker in the wall.
Many people found the MRI tunnel brought out their claustrophobia—even if they hadn’t been aware they’d had it before then—but it really didn’t bother him. He’d just closed his eyes and tried to focus on something other than the noise and Cassie’s tear-filled eyes, but his mind hadn’t settled on anything better. Instead, it was something worse. His career was at stake. A heart attack, resulting in a cardiac arrest, would make him unfit for duty in the eyes of the US Coast Guard, no matter how well he recovered in the coming months. He only had sixteen years in—fou
r shy of what was needed for a full retirement. If he’d had at least eighteen years under his belt, the medical board could make a decision that would allow him to work light duty for the remaining time it would take to reach his full twenty. It wouldn’t have been a guaranteed deal, but there was a limited exception rule in the policy for certain situations—not that it made a difference in Stefan’s case. He was basically screwed, and it was pissing him off.
Since joining the USCG, all he’d ever wanted was to be a lifer. His plan had been to keep rising through the ranks, getting as high as he could before he hit the mandatory age of retirement at sixty-two. Hell, he would’ve even been satisfied with retiring in his midfifties—between his pension and his trust fund, he would’ve been very comfortable. He’d still be financially secure with a disability pension and the trust, but being benched before reaching forty? Well, that seriously sucked. Damn it!
The clamor of the machine suddenly stopped, and a door opened somewhere behind the top of his head. “All done,” the too cheery female technician announced.
The platform moved, drawing him out from the tunnel. “How’d it look?”
“Sorry, I just run the test. The doctor will read the results and give them to you.”
He should’ve expected that answer. It was basically the same one Cassie had given him . . . yesterday? Wow. It’d only been about twenty-four hours since they’d rescued the family of four, but it seemed like much longer than that to him. Maybe his mind had altered his sense of time due to the fact he’d been clinically dead for a few minutes. God, that gave him chills. There’d been no bright light, no seeing his grandparents on “the other side,” no floating above his body and staring down at it, and no feeling of “I’m about to die.” He didn’t remember anything between the moment Cassie had left him lying on the gurney in the ER and the few minutes after he woke up this morning before meeting Nurse Nancy. The rest was an utter blank. One would think he’d remember getting hit with up to 360 electrical joules each time they’d shocked him with the defibrillator, but he didn’t. The only proof he had that’d happened were the red, first-degree burn marks on his chest and side. Well, that and everyone mentioning it.
Ten minutes later, with the help of Nurse Nancy and the burly orderly, who’d said his name was Kelvin, Stefan moved from the gurney back into his bed. It hadn’t been the easiest thing to do since he was still hooked up to a bunch of wires and tubing, including that fucking catheter. After Kelvin left the cubicle with the gurney, Stefan asked, “Nancy, is there any way we can get that—that thing . . .” He pointed to his groin which was covered by the blanket and sheets again. “. . . taken out?”
She chuckled as she unhooked him from the portable heart monitor to the stationary one over his left shoulder. “I’m surprised you waited this long before asking me that. With most men, it’s the first question out of their mouths as soon as they can talk. I’ll page Dr. Chang—if he gives me the okay, I’ll remove it. After that, you can use a urinal.”
He didn’t care what he had to piss in, he just wanted that damn thing out of his cock. It was . . . icky.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. By the way, your parents are in the waiting room. I told them you were getting an MRI. They can visit at the top of the hour for ten minutes—I’ll let them know you’re back.”
After thanking her again, he glanced at the clock as she left and partially closed his curtain. He had twelve minutes to kill before his parents could come in. Grabbing the TV remote, since there wasn’t anything else he could do but sleep or stare up at the ceiling, he flipped through the thirty or so limited channels twice and finally settled on ESPN to get the scores and recaps of yesterday’s games. However, by the time the curtain opened again, and his parents entered, he couldn’t recall a single score that’d flashed across the screen or even who’d played whom.
“Hi, honey.” His mother leaned over the bedrail, kissed his cheek, and ran a hand over his crewcut like she used to do when he was a kid. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m good, Mom. Hey, Dad. You know you didn’t have to rush down here—”
His father frowned as he circled around to the opposite side of the bed from his wife, and patted Stefan's shoulder. “Of course, we did, son. We’re just glad to see you’re okay. We spoke to Dr. Chang, and he said your prognosis is good.”
“Yeah, he told me that too.” He refused to mention that prognosis didn’t bode well for his career. Stefan gestured to the ugly recliner behind his father, the only seat in the small cubicle. “Mom, sit there. You both must be exhausted. Cassie said you were here until after midnight.”
His mother smiled as she perched on the edge of the seat. “She’s an absolute sweetheart. We tried to tell her it was okay to go home, but she insisted on staying until we left, in case we needed anything.”
There was no mistaking the twinkle in his mother’s eyes, and Stefan rolled his own. “She’s just a friend, Mom.”
“A very pretty friend. I like her.”
“So do I, but we’re still just friends.” Geez, he’d had an MI, gone into cardiac arrest, had surgery, was lying there hooked up to a bunch of wires, and had more tubes entering his body than he was comfortable with, and his mother was playing matchmaker. And why did it grate on his nerves trying to convince his mother Cassie and he were “just friends”? For ten months, they’d been so much more. He’d been her Dom and she his submissive. They’d been intimate. In binding her within his Shibari patterns, he’d given Cassie what she’d needed, and, in return, she’d given him her submission and pleasure.
But what did he really know about his little pixie, beyond the basics? After his parents’ ten minutes were up, he thought about what little he knew about Cassie and ticked the items off on his fingers, unfolding them one by one. She was twenty-nine years old, never married, and had no children to his knowledge. She worked as a cardiac rehab tech at the hospital he was currently laid up in and had gone back to school to become a nurse. She had an inexplicable need to be restrained in order to have an orgasm, something he’d been more than happy to help her with. She had a pretty smile, gorgeous hazel eyes, and a killer body. She . . . she . . . hmm.
Stefan stared at his hands. Nine up and one down. Was that all he knew about her? Less than how many fingers he had? Nine freaking things? There had to be more than that after ten months in a D/s relationship. He knew nothing about her family, whether her parents were still alive and if she was close to them. He had no clue if she had any siblings. What did the inside of her apartment look like? Did she have a pet living with her? And what was the name of the perfume she always wore, the one that made him hard as soon as the scent reached out and tantalized his nose. All he did know, in addition to the few things he’d listed above, was how to make her come and how beautiful it was when she did. Had he really distanced himself that much from her, even when his cock had been deep inside her? God, he was such an ass.
Five minutes after Devon Sawyer and his wife, Kristen, left Stefan’s room in the cardiac step-down unit, Master Chief Graves, Ensign Peters, and Ensign Jacoby strode in, and he stifled a groan. He knew his friends and coworkers meant well, but he really didn’t want anyone seeing him in this impaired condition, aside from his parents.
The only person he was torn about visiting was Cassie. He didn’t want her seeing him at his worst, but she’d brightened his world every time she’d stopped in over the past two days. After he’d been moved out of the CCU late yesterday afternoon, she’d come by, bringing one of his very few unhealthy vices—a chocolate mint shake from Donovan’s Pub. Somehow, Cassie had remembered the shake from the one time they’d ordered takeout from the bar/restaurant for dinner one night when Stefan hadn’t been in the mood to cook before an evening of play at his place. He’d tried to brush off how good her gift had made him feel at the time, but a part of him was still pleased.
Cassie had also stopped in to see him this morning, before her shift in the cardiac rehab unit
started, and, again, a little while ago on her lunch break, just before Dev and Kristen had walked in.
As the three men filled the room, Peters was the first to greet him. “Hey, LC, you’re looking good.”
Stefan snorted as he stretched his legs out under the blanket covering his lower body. “Don’t lie to your superiors, Ensign—I know I look like crap.” He sure as hell felt like crap, so it was a given he looked like it too.
Two days after his heart attack and subsequent procedure, his muscles seemed to be deteriorating with every passing hour. He was weaker than he could ever remember being, and he hated it. The muscles in his shoulders and chest were stiff and ached like someone had given him a severe beating a few days ago. Every time he lifted his arms up or turned onto his sides, he was reminded of the burns from the defibrillator, which still marked his upper torso. He no longer had the oxygen cannula stuck in his nose, but the IV and monitors were still in place. At least the damn urine catheter had been removed from his dick, and, thankfully, not by “Big Jim”—Nurse Nancy had taken care of it, and Stefan had blushed the entire time.
Stefan was hoping to get sprung from the hospital soon, but according to Dr. Chang, he’d be there until at least Wednesday. They were trying to get his blood pressure under control, since it had been elevated over the past twenty-four hours, and he still had to take a nuclear stress test. He’d been told the MRI and an echocardiogram had showed mild damage to his heart muscle, but, with rehab, it should improve. Unfortunately, it didn’t improve his chances of staying with the Coast Guard. That was another reason he didn’t want visitors—he wanted to wallow in self-pity for a while—but he couldn’t be rude to the people who truly cared and were worried about him.
Knot a Chance: Doms of The Covenant Book 3 Page 8
