“Joe, can you sit up?” she asks and I nod and it hurts. With her help, I sit up against the arm of the couch. She takes the thermometer and sticks it gently in my ear.
“You get a more accurate temp using an anal thermometer,” I say because I can’t stop flirting.
“You have one of those?” she asks, smiling.
“No,” I say because it’s all I can manage. The thermometer beeps and she looks at it.
“It’s 103, which is high. Have you taken anything recently?”
I shake my head. She feeds me some tablets and water. “My head,” I say because I can’t put a full sentence together.
“Joe, can I help you up to your room? You’ll be more comfortable there.” I nod and weakly lift myself up, putting a lot of weight on her.
We make it up the stairs only bumping into the walls a few times. She pulls my covers back and I sit on the edge of the bed. I’m still only in my boxer briefs. “Thanks.”
“Do you want a shirt or something, so you’re not cold?” she asks.
I shrug and fall back onto my mattress and then pull up the covers to my chin. She sits next to me and threads her hands in my hair, stroking. It feels so nice. “Nice,” I mumble and she laughs softly.
“I’m going to take care of you, Joe,” I think she says before I drift off.
Just Helpless
I’M HOT, IT’S SO HOT, like I’m surrounded by heaters. My back is especially extra warm and I need to pee. I throw the covers back and sit up. Little fuzzy dots prickle my vision and I take a minute to let it pass. Slowly, I get up, go to the bathroom and relieve myself. I wash my hands and brush my teeth since my mouth feels like a thousand birds shit in it and then dried up to dust.
When I return to bed I lay on my back. I still feel like shit, but not like death. The bathroom trip really took it out of me, so I’m going to lie here until I can muster the energy to go downstairs for water. As I’m contemplating whether it would be overstepping to text Betsy to ask her to bring me water, an arm drapes across my chest. Interesting. I turn my head to see the arm is attached to Betsy. She tries to snuggle in so I move my arm up so she can.
Five minutes is all I get of uninterrupted viewing of the most beautiful woman I’ve met cuddled into me. Her eyes flutter open and she sees me staring at her. I’m rewarded with a half-smile.
“Hey there,” she whispers and if I wasn’t already in love with her, I would be just because she’s trying to be quiet while my head throbs. It’s taking every molecule I have working to keep other parts from throbbing because she’s here in my bed. Her hand goes from my chest to my cheek and then forehead. “You’re still warm. I’ll go get you some more ibuprofen.”
She starts to pull from our cozy spot and even though I feel weak, my arms stay put. “I’m okay for a bit, don’t go,” I say and my voice is raspy and it hurts to talk. Her arm goes back to my chest and I like the feeling of it there. In fact, I like all of her here. Now I have to figure out how to get her to stay.
I must fall back asleep because when she wakes me, she’s sitting on my bed next to me. She gets me to take the pills and I drink a bottle of Gatorade. She made me oatmeal and I manage a few bites. When she makes to leave I grab her wrist. “Will you stay?” She nods and gets up to go sit in the chair. “No, here.” My hand pats the space next to me.
She hesitates for a minute and then gets back under the covers. “I’m working from home today so I can hang but I’ll have to do some work.”
I nod, “Just for a little bit, please?” I pull her in, her back to my front so I can spoon her. Maybe I’m taking advantage of the situation. I’m totally doing that and I don’t care. I need her.
Her hand caresses mine and then she places it on her heart, over her breast. “Whatever you need, Joe, I’m here.”
“Thanks,” I whisper into her neck. Mmm, tangerines. “You smell good.”
She giggles and I feel it through my whole pathetic body. “Get some rest, you perv.” I give her tit a light squeeze and she laughs again, moving my hand to her hip. “Behave yourself,” she says but doesn’t seem annoyed in the least bit.
Later, I wake to find her propped up next to me on her laptop tapping away. Her headphones are on and she is humming along. I don’t think she realizes she’s doing it but it’s cute. I like her here in my room, in my bed. She looks over at me and smiles as her headphones come off. “Hey, sleepy. How you feeling?” she asks, putting her hand on my forehead.
“Okay, I need to get up,” I say and attempt to sit up. I’m successful and I stand, swaying. She is up in a flash to help steady me. “You can walk me there but I draw the line at the bathroom.”
“Noted,” she says. “I’ll wait out here though.”
When I come back out, she is changing the sheets on my bed and the warm feeling in my chest is not illness related. “Need help?” I ask leaning against the wall.
“No, just sit there until I’m done. Or you can change, I put clean pj pants and a shirt out for you.” I sit in the chair and find the folded clothes on the ottoman. When I lean forward to grab them, I catch a whiff of myself and it’s not pretty.
“I think I’m going to attempt a shower before I put clean clothes on,” I say and stand up slowly and make my way to the shower. I don’t make the water too hot, knowing that would be a bad idea. I drop my boxers and step in. When I turn, I see Betsy walk in.
“I’ll leave your clothes here and I’ll be right back with a clean towel, I went ahead and washed everyone’s linens, get the sick out of them and all that.” She heads back out but is back in less than a minute with a towel. I wash as quickly as I can but any exertion is a challenge. When I step out the shower, she is there with the towel, it’s warm and she wraps it around me. “Get dressed and then I’ll help you downstairs if you want.” She pauses for a bit, just hugging me with the towel, my arms pinned to my sides, then let’s go and walks out.
We make it downstairs and she sets me up on the couch. I channel surf while she makes me some soup. I’m able to eat almost the whole bowl and I take more pills to keep my fever down. I watch some old cartoons while she works next to me, my feet in her lap. She’s stayed within a foot of me all day. I catch a few worried looks from her too.
“I’m going to live, okay?” I try to reassure her.
“I know, but do you think you should go to the doctor too?”
“I’ll call her but she’ll just tell me to do exactly what I’m doing now.” She gives me a look so I pick up my phone and call the doctor on speakerphone. I tell the nurse my symptoms and that we were just in for my brother with the same and he was diagnosed with the flu. She tells me to keep with the fluids and rest and to call if it gets worse. “See, it’s the flu. I swear you can call back if I get worse or my fever gets high.” She nods and I put a pillow in her lap and lay my head there. There’s no hesitation of her hand brushing my hair from my eyes. “Your hair is getting long in the front,” she observes. My usual hairstyle is a little long and floppy on top and short on the sides. She’s right, I haven’t had a haircut in a while.
I don’t answer her, just enjoy her hands in my hair. My eyes close and I drift to sleep feeling safe and well cared for. I am in and out of consciousness, that restless sleep when you’re sick. A few times I feel Betsy’s lips on my face, the kiss test for fever is what she tells me but I think she likes kissing me.
When I wake sometime later, it’s dark and I am alone on the couch. I feel lousy still and drag myself to the sink to drink some water. I’m not hungry but I heat up some soup anyway and force a few spoonfuls down. When I put my bowl in the sink, I notice the note stuck to the front of my shirt. It’s from Betsy telling me she went to work but will come right home after. She reminds me of my promise to call if I need her or the doctor.
I’m not well, but I can handle getting myself back to my room. I lay in bed wishing she was here with me, and I was not sick. Through the night I toss and turn and have weird and vivid dreams about the band, my
brother, and Betsy. At some point I feel Betsy holding me, begging me to wake up. I’m barely conscious but she gets me to take some pills and water. I’m shivering violently, it’s so cold. Betsy’s warmth as she spoons me calms my shivers down and I fall back into sleep. She’s been whispering to me the whole time, trying to calm me down. In there somewhere I swear I hear her say she loves me. Or maybe it’s just my delirious wishful thinking.
Just Feelings
THE REST OF THE WEEKEND we watch movies, binge tv shows, read Poe, and snuggle. That’s right, there is a lot of it too. By Saturday afternoon, I’m feeling much better but I’m not one to give up an opportunity. So, I’m milking it a little. The past few nights Betsy has slept in my bed and I don’t want that to end. This morning she was draped across the top of me and her mouth was so close to mine. I barely touched my lips to hers and she woke up, eyes wide in surprise and then all apologies for sleeping on top of me. I was only sorry when she hopped off me and curled into a ball on her side of the bed. Yep, she has a side.
After, I took a shower and changed into joggers and a t-shirt and headed to the kitchen to make coffee and cook some eggs. I needed protein after a lot of soup and toast. When Betsy finally came down, she was dressed in a similar outfit of joggers and one of those slouchy shirts she likes that drape over her shoulder. We ate and then retired to the couch. All of my morning activities wore me out so I fell asleep.
I wake up a few hours later and Betsy must have joined me because she is snuggled into me like I’m a cozy cocoon. Our sectional is pretty deep because Jack and I wanted something we could sleep on comfortably. It may have backfired since we fall asleep more often than not on the couch because it is so cozy. This here, right now though? This is what I wanted it for, to be able to get close to my girlfriend on the couch. That’s what I envisioned. Watching a sweet rom-com with my future wife, stretched out on the giant couch, then making sweet love to her when the movie was over.
My hand is tucked under one of Betsy’s tits and I’m not moving it. My other hand is draped over the dip of her waist hanging over the side of the couch. I move this one back so my hand rests on her abdomen. She sighs in her sleep and so I pull her into me a little farther. My face is close to her neck and I use my nose to nudge her braid to the side so I can nuzzle the spot under her ear. I place a few soft kisses on her nape and drag my lips across her shoulder.
“I love you too,” I whisper, hoping she’s still asleep. She seems to be, her breaths even and long. I push it by kissing up the side of her neck and nibble her earlobe.
“Mmmmmm,” she hums and rolls to face me. Her eyes are still closed so I pull her in, her head fitting under mine and I kiss her hair.
We lay like that for a while and I eventually fall back asleep. When I wake up again, she’s gone. Almost like she wasn’t there before. Maybe it was a dream. I take my temperature with the ear thingy and I’m at 100. I push the button to clear it and walk into the kitchen.
Betsy is at the stove making something that smells pretty awesome. Her headphones are in and she is shaking her ass while stirring her pot. I sit at the bar since my walk over has exhausted me, and just enjoy the show. There’s something about her body when she moves. Her tall frame is curvy and athletic, perfect in my eyes. She has total control over it and it’s something I’m sure she works hard to maintain. She does yoga all the time and I hear her practicing her routines in her room. I know how a passion can consume you, but also if you slow down, how it can suffer. Betsy works long hours at her day job and then works her ass off for her life’s work.
At the stove, Betsy abandons the spoon as her arms go over her head and she shakes her booty even more. She spins and sees me. Without missing a beat, she saunters over and starts dancing behind me. I push the stool out so I can see better and she pulls it back even more. Before I know what exactly is happening, Betsy is giving me a lap dance of sorts. It’s funny because I can’t hear the music she’s dancing to, but it hardly seems to matter.
Her hands go to my shoulders, pressing them back so I’m sitting all the way up. She smiles at me as her hands drift down my arms (I flex of course) to the tops of my thighs. From there she places them flat on either side of my legs, presses up and is able to kick her legs up into a wide split. Before my mind (or let’s get real, my dick) can catch up, she kicks her legs back and down, spins and then bends in front of me, her ass now bouncing between my spread legs while she holds on to the bar. She steps up onto the rungs of the stool so her ass is even higher and I’m worried about the sweatpants I have on revealing my admiration. Her hands go back to the sides of my legs and she lifts herself again, this time winding her legs around mine.
If anyone came into the kitchen at this point, they’d think they’d interrupted something. Fuck it, they would be. They would interrupt the best lap dance to ever happen and my raging boner. She’s still facing away from me so I try to tuck it into the waistband of my boxers so it won’t tent my sweatpants. Not that I care, but I don’t want to embarrass her. She leans back, her ass still hovering over my crotch and leans her head back on my shoulder. Her eyes are closed and I make a choice. My hands go from my lap to her abdomen and I slide them slowly up.
Three things happen at once seconds after my hands go up her shirt. First, I guess my wandering hands startle Betsy so she shoots up away from me. This causes the second thing, we tip forward and fall off the chair. Lastly, we end up on the floor me on all fours with her under me. During this, my dick has been unleashed and is most definitely making itself at home against Betsy’s lower back.
Her headphones flew off as we fell so when I ask her if she’s okay, she nods.
“Are you okay?” she asks back.
I laugh as we get up, me picking her up as we stand and placing her on her feet in front of me, still close enough to feel how much her dance affected me. “I’m more than okay. Sorry about the dick print.” I adjust myself and she stares as she turns to me.
“I guess my job is done?” she asks laughing. “You just looked so cute sitting there, I couldn’t resist giving you a little show.”
“You think I’m cute?” I ask with a smirk.
Eyes roll to the heavens and she walks back to the stove, picking her headphones up on the way. She turns them off and resumes playing music on her phone so we both can listen. “I hope you don’t mind some Hall and Oates? It’s one of my favorite Pandora stations.”
“Wait, you were lap dancing all over me to Hall and Oates?”
“Yep, Private Eyes are watching you,” she says pointing her two fingers at her eyes and then to me.
“What are you making?” I ask.
“I’m making spicy white chili. I thought it would be good for you, clear out the toxins,” she says, still swaying her hips to the music.
“Sounds good,” I say and maybe it’s the broken fever, or maybe it’s just time. “Hey, Bets?” She turns to me and raises her eyebrows. “Come here.” I beckon curling my finger to her.
She comes over and stands a little back from where I’m sitting on the stool, legs wide. I curl my finger at her again, motioning her to come closer. She bites her lip and moves so she’s in between my legs. I tighten them against her hips and her eyes go wide.
“I may have helped create that boner, but that doesn’t mean I’m doing anything with it,” she says and I smile. Wham’s Careless Whisper comes on and I stand, taking her in my arms and start to sway.
“Bets,” I say softly and her face changes. She’s looking at me now, knowing I’m serious. My hand goes to her cheek and I touch my thumb to her lips. Her eyes aren’t giving me a clue, and she’s speechless so I lean in and put my lips to hers. Just a brush, really. Her nod is almost so small I almost miss it but its consent to continue. I return my lips to hers and truly kiss her for the first time. It’s soft and searching at first, she is returning my pressure, so I know she’s on board. My tongue breaches into her mouth and then all bets are off. Her hands go to my hair and I band my arms aro
und her waist, pulling her all the way against me. It escalates quickly and is so hot. She grabs at my hair and is pulling on it like she can’t get me close enough. I know the feeling. One of my hands stops at the small of her back and the other goes up to pull on her braid as she grinds against me. I open my eyes and pull back a little, peppering kisses along her jaw. Her neck is arched, cradled in my hand and she’s so lovely. “You are so lovely,” I say out loud because it’s true. Then I ruin it by saying something else. “Want to do something with it now?” I ask and waggle my eyebrows.
Just Not Like That
WHY AM I THE WAY I am? I mentally facepalm myself as Betsy’s arms drop and she steps back. Her hands go to her lips and she rubs there. She takes a deep breath and turns back to stir the chili. I feel her pulling away from me and I’m not going to let her.
“Bets, I’m sorry,” I say coming to stand behind her at the stove. “I didn’t mean to ruin the moment.”
She shrugs. “There wasn’t any moment to ruin, no worries.”
“So, it’s like that? That kiss was awesome, like I saw unicorns and they were jizzing glitter everywhere. That’s how good it was,” I say trying to lighten the moment a little but still keep her with me. “It was the best kiss of my life because it was with you.” I tentatively put my hands on her upper arms. The moment I do she turns. Her face looks like it’s in turmoil. Like it wants to smile at me and my ridiculous self, but instead, it’s twisted in a frown.
“I won’t deny that the kiss was good, but it’s not like that with us Joe, I thought you knew that I have nothing to offer. I like you but I’m not built for what you want.” She half turns to the pot to stir while still facing me. “I’m sorry.”
“I heard you, you know,” I say because what do I have to lose at this point? “While I was asleep and feverish, I heard you say you love me.”
Just Joe ~ Jen Luerssen Page 12
