by Lisa Lace
I start to slide my hand up and down. I love the sound of the low groan Tom makes when I’m holding him.
He doesn’t let me tease him for long. Instead, Tom picks me up effortlessly and carries me to the bedroom, just like I imagined he would. He’ll lead like he’s walked through my apartment a thousand times before.
Tom lays me down on the bed and flicks on the bedside lamp. He draws the drapes, then turns to me with a smoldering stare. He takes off his tight T-shirt.
The muscles I’d felt just moments before are now on full display. Taut pecs, a row of defined abs. His hair is slightly tousled now that the day has worn on, starting to look wild in a way that drives me crazy. No business suits or ten-thousand-dollar watches. Just raw, masculine appeal.
I want him to take me. I want Tom to fulfill every fantasy I’ve imagined alone and every explicit message we’ve teasingly sent each other.
He takes off his jeans and briefs and stands at the end of the bed. My breath catches at the sight of his huge cock, hard and ready. He comes toward me and peels away my jeans. His eyes travel over my long, shapely legs. I relish the look of desire in his eyes. My killer legs strike again.
Next, Tom peels away my red silk panties. Pulling my legs apart, Tom bows his head between them. His wet, warm tongue presses against my clit. A tingling of pleasure begins to grow.
He teases my clit with his tongue until I’m on the brink of orgasm, then raises his head to kiss my mouth while pressing his fingers into me. His body is against mine; we are skin to skin as I come.
I tilt my head back to let a cry of pleasure escape.
While I’m still heady from the orgasm, Tom parts my legs again and enters me. His cock is thick and hard. It fills me entirely, and each stroke is pure bliss.
Tom rocks into me, going from kissing my mouth to kissing my throat. I hold onto the spindles of my headboard, blown away by the feeling of Tom inside me.
He pulls away and lies on his back. He gently takes hold of my wrist and pulls me onto him. His head falls back onto the pillow, his eyes fixed on mine.
I feel like the sexiest woman alive when I sink down onto his cock again. I begin to grind against him. His eyes are full of admiration for my body, but soon he closes them in pleasure and tilts his head back.
He grasps at my hips and pushes down. “Zoe—”
The sound of my name from his lips sends shivers down my spine. I lean forward to kiss him, my red hair spilling over his face. He reaches up to brush it back behind my ear, and our eyes meet. That spark burns.
I rock my hips against Tom until he comes. He lets out a long, satisfied breath, then sits up and wraps his arms around me. My breasts press against his chest. It feels so intimate.
He kisses me long and deeply, then draws away. “That,” he says, “was the night of my life.”
Tom
I wake up—not in my luxury bed in New York, and not on the uncomfortable sofa at Laura’s, but in Zoe’s bedroom, my beautiful redhead still asleep beside me.
It’s about eleven AM. I never sleep in. I feel more relaxed than I have in years.
I take a moment to appreciate Zoe. Her body is a masterpiece. She’s slim and toned, with perfect breasts. I’m in wonder at how womanly she is. Her read hair is her crowning glory. It spills all around her sweet face and over her bare shoulders like fire.
She’s lying on her front with her arms crossed over the pillow and her head resting on them, her face turned to one side. Her hair covers most of her shoulders, but I can see the slope of her spine leading down to her tailbone, where the covers rest. Her skin is soft, pale, and supple.
One leg pokes out from beneath the sheets. One perfect leg. Even though she’s asleep, her toes are still curling against the fluffy pink blanket at the end of the bed. I never usually notice the small things like that.
I’m annoyed when my cell starts ringing and interrupts the perfect moment. Zoe’s brow furrows. She lets out a long breath, stretching from head to toe, then relaxing back into the mattress. She sits up and rubs her eyes.
“Is it work?”
“Probably. Or it could be Laura with some last-minute instructions. She probably still expected me to come back last night.”
Zoe looks guilty. “You’d better take it.”
I look at my cell screen. The caller is a number I don’t recognize. I answer it.
“Mr. Vermont?”
“Speaking.”
“I’m calling from Maine Medical Center.”
I sit up. This must be serious.
“What’s happened?”
“Your sister, Laura Demont, was brought in this morning. I’m sorry to say she’s been involved in a road accident.”
Blind panic courses through me. I may not always be on the doorstep, but I love my sister. “How is she?”
“Her condition is critical but stable. We’re still doing tests. It’s best you come right away. We have her at Bramhall Campus.”
“I’ll be right there.” I hang up and immediately begin searching for my clothes and getting dressed.
Zoe’s sitting bolt upright now, her eyes wide. “Was that the hospital?”
I nod. “Laura’s been in an accident. She’s critical.”
She gasps and covers her hand with her mouth. Tears immediately fill her eyes, but she springs into action, pulling on fresh underwear and yesterday’s jeans. “Let’s go.”
We race to my car, the night before forgotten. All we care about is Laura.
“What about the kids?” Zoe asks. “Should we get them?”
I turn the key and start driving. I shake my head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“But what if Laura doesn’t make it?”
“I won’t let that happen.”
Zoe’s still crying. Her face is ashen, her hands shaking. “Did they say how badly she was injured?”
“They’re still running tests.”
I get us to the hospital as fast as possible, reeling around junctions and pressing my foot down whenever I close in on lights to avoid the reds. Zoe grips onto the handle of the passenger door, squeezing her eyes shut, but saying nothing about how fast I’m driving.
When we arrive at the hospital, we head straight for the reception desk. Others are milling around, trying to get the attention of the surly woman behind the counter.
I shout over the heads.
“Excuse me—Laura Demont?”
“One moment, sir. I’ll be right with you.”
I don’t have time to wait for the middle-aged woman with flu to finish insisting she get immediate attention. I turn away from the desk, pulling Zoe along with me, to stop a passing nurse.
“Excuse me; my sister was brought in after a car accident. Can you tell me where she is?”
The nurse asks me for the name and nods. “Yes, she was brought in a short while ago. She was taken to urgent care.”
We sprint down the corridors of the hospital to find her. She isn’t in any of the rooms.
I manage to catch a passing doctor. “Please, doctor, we’re looking for Laura Demont.”
He nods at once. “Road accident, brought in this morning.” He holds out his hand to shake mine. “Let’s talk in here.”
The doctor takes us aside in an empty hospital room and shuts the door. He’s an older doctor, at least in his fifties, with graying hair, and a serious expression. He acts with great professionalism and respect. I trust him immediately. “Mrs. Demont has been taken to surgery.”
“Oh my God.” Zoe breathes out heavily. “How badly is she hurt?”
“She has broken her back in two places.”
I immediately fear the worst, imagining Laura confined to a wheelchair for the rest of her life. The news hits me like a punch in the gut.
The doctor senses my fears and is quick to continue. “Although the injury is potentially very debilitating, the paramedics at the scene did everything right, and we’re doing everything we can to avoid permanent paralysis. Although
the bones are damaged, the nerve damage, at this time, seems minimal. We have Mrs. Demont in surgery now to remove a herniated disc and some bone fragments that were detected in the X-ray. After that, we’ll use traction to realign the spine.”
“Traction?”
“A bracing system. Mrs. Demont has suffered fractures in the neck and lower spine. She will require a collar brace and what we call a TLSO for her lower back. We will aim to keep her stabilized for eight to twelve weeks while she heals.”
“Eight to twelve weeks,” Zoe says. “What then?”
“We will review her progress and determine whether she requires any further treatment. We may be looking at further surgery down the line to fuse bone at the fracture site.”
“I want her treated in a private ward,” Tom announces. “The cost doesn’t matter. I want her to have the best.”
The doctor nods. “I’ll make sure that happens.”
“How long will she be in surgery for?”
“Another couple of hours, at least. As you can appreciate, spinal surgery is very complex. You can wait in the waiting room as long as you like, or there is the hospital café.” He offers a sympathetic smile and reaches to shake my hand again. “I understand this is shocking news. I promise you, we’re doing all we can to take the very best care of Mrs. Demont. I will update you as soon as I can.”
The doctor leaves, and Zoe and I are still stunned.
Zoe shakes her head slowly in disbelief. “Two breaks. How will she cope, Tom?”
I pull her in toward me and hold her tightly. “I’ll make sure she has everything she needs. She’ll get the very best care. I promise you.”
“She could be in the hospital for weeks. What about the kids?”
“I’ll arrange for someone to look after them.”
Zoe gasps then scowls. “Seriously? At a time like this, you’d pawn the kids off on someone else?”
I lift my hands. “What would you have me do, Zoe? I don’t know the first thing about those kids. They’ll be safer with someone who can take better care of them than me.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Zoe retorts. “If you won’t step up, then I’ll stay with them. I can’t believe you’d even suggest letting anyone else look after them at a time like this.”
“I’m thinking about what’s best for them.”
“You’re thinking about what’s best for you.” Zoe’s furious at me.
My heart sinks. My sister is critically ill, and I’ve already handled it wrong. I’ve never been good in a family crisis. I’ve always made the wrong decisions.
“You think I should look after them?” It’s a genuine question. I’m asking Zoe what the hell I should do.
“Of course, you should! Do you have any idea what those kids have been through?” She stares at me, then rolls her eyes. “No, you don’t. They’ve lost their father. How do you think they’re going to feel when they find out their mom is seriously ill? They’re going to be terrified. The last thing they need is to be shoved into the arms of strangers.”
But I’m a stranger. Still, I nod. “You’re right, Zoe. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. Of course, I’ll stay with them.”
Her expression softens. “You promise?”
“I swear.”
She lets out a long breath. The news of Laura’s accident has hit her hard. Even though we both slept for about twelve hours, she looks exhausted.
“The doctor says we’ve got a couple of hours to wait. God, I don’t know how I’m going to make it. I can’t bear not knowing how she’s doing. Tom, I’m so worried about her.”
I take Zoe’s hand and squeeze it tightly. “Do you know anyone who’s more of a fighter than Laura?”
She offers a weak smile. “You’re right.”
“Let’s go to the café, okay? We’ll get a coffee and something to eat, and figure out what the hell we’re going to do.”
We head to the café. I buy us both a coffee and a stale croissant. I don’t really have the stomach for either. I pick at the pastry and force down the bitter coffee, hoping it will give me the energy to process what is happening.
Zoe puts her head in her hands. We’re sitting at a round table at the edge of the café. There’s a strange mix of joy and tears around us. Some people are laughing and joking, holding balloons and bouquets. For every family facing death and tragedy, another is welcoming a newborn or celebrating some other miracle.
Others, like us, look like their world is ending. I see tired faces and red eyes. I try not to let my own fear show. Zoe, Laura, and the kids are all counting on me.
“How are we going to tell the kids?” Zoe asks me. She’s wearing a pained expression. “After everything they’ve been through, it’s going to break my heart.”
I reach out and take her hand. “What do you want to do? I’ll tell them if you want.”
“No.” She offers me a grateful smile but shakes her head. “It should come from me. They know me.”
Even though she’s completely right, the statement still stings and reminds me that I’m a stranger to my family. It’s not like Laura hasn’t begged you to come home. “Everything will be okay,” I promise her. “You can tell the kids that Laura will be back home before they know it, as good as new.”
She frowns. “You don’t know that.”
“I won’t settle for anything less than the best for Laura.”
The hours pass by with no news. Eventually, Zoe glances up at the clock and gasps. “School’s nearly out. We have to go get the kids.”
“I’ll go get them,” I offer. “You should be here for Laura.”
“Are you kidding? You should be here for Laura. You’re her brother. Besides, the kids know me.”
“We came in my car.” I frown. “Let’s track down a doctor and see if someone knows how Laura’s doing.”
I pace the halls, returning to where I first found the doctor who gave me news on Laura. After ten minutes, I spot him again and wave him down. Zoe is just behind me, hanging onto his words.
“How’s she doing, doctor?”
“Still stable. She’s coping with the surgery very well.”
“When is she due out?”
“Within the hour.”
“And then we can see her?”
“We’re going to be putting her into a medically induced coma,” he tells us. “As well as the fractures to her spine, Mrs. Demont has suffered some internal bleeding and a fractured collarbone. We think this way will be less traumatic for her. Her body needs the chance to heal.”
“How likely is it that she’ll take a turn for the worse?” Zoe asks. “Should we bring her kids in to see her?”
“That’s entirely up to you,” the doctor says. “With patients like Mrs. Demont, the first twenty-four hours are the most critical. She’s done very well so far. Do you need to leave?”
“Laura’s kids are about to finish school for the day.”
The doctor nods. “We can call you if there’s any change in her condition. It’s going to be a long time before you can see her. Probably not until the morning. Even then, she won’t be conscious for several days.”
Zoe and I exchange glances. I don’t know what’s for the best. If I say we stay here, I’m abandoning the kids. If I say we get the kids, I’m leaving Laura.
“What do you think, Zoe?”
“Laura would want us to take care of the kids.” She takes a deep breath and nods. “Yes. Let’s get the kids and tell them what’s going on.”
The doctor nods. “That may be for the best. At times like these, it’s important to take care of yourselves. You can call the hospital any time for updates, and if Mrs. Demont faces any difficulty, we’ll call you immediately.”
I shake the doctor’s hand. “Thank you.”
Zoe
We don’t tell the kids in the car, and it’s the longest journey of my life. It takes everything in me to hold back the tears, but I don’t want to scare Megan and Jack. I think it’s best that they receiv
e the news somewhere familiar. They’ll be upset, and the last thing we want is another road accident.
Instead, I will myself to stay calm and listen wordlessly to Jack’s excitable chatter. Neither of the kids is suspicious that Laura’s not here—they were expecting Tom to pick them up today.
It seems a lifetime before we pull up outside Laura’s house. Tom parks the car, and we head inside.
Megan heads straight up the stairs.
I call to her, “Megan! Can you wait a second? I need to talk to you.”
She stops, trying to hide her impatience. “Is it ground rules from Mom? Because I already know: no sleepovers and home by ten.”
“No, it’s not that. Come downstairs, Meg. This is important.”
Megan can tell from the tone of my voice that something serious is going on. She takes a couple of steps down the stairs, her cell hanging from her hand. The sleeves of her gray sweater are too long, hanging over her hands. She lifts a hand to her mouth anxiously. “What’s going on, Aunt Zoe?”
“We’ll talk about it, sweetheart.”
She follows me into the living room. Tom stands awkwardly by the door. Jack is searching for his console.
I call him over. “Jack, sweetie, come and sit with Aunt Zoe.”
Jack doesn’t come straight away. He takes a moment to pick up his handheld games console from the windowsill before he pulls himself up onto the sofa beside me. I wrap my arms around him, taking in his sweet, childish scent of laundry powder and kids’ shampoo.
Holding him in my arms makes the tears well in my own eyes again. It’s so hard to tell them.
Tom takes a seat next to me and holds my hand. He catches my eye and offers a small smile of encouragement. I’m glad he’s here. I take a deep breath.
Megan is standing in the doorway, her arms folded across her chest. She’s biting down on her lip and staring at me. I can see the fear in her eyes. I know she’s expecting the worst. Just like Mike.
“Your uncle got a call from the hospital today.”
Taking quick strides across the living room, Megan kneels in front of me, both sleeves in front of her face like she’s watching a horror movie unfold. “It’s Mom, isn’t it?”
