by Hope Jones
Eventually, exhaustion won out, and we both fell asleep, cuddled into one another.
Chapter Seven
Graham
MY BLADDAR WAS screaming at me, my arm moaning in pain, but I wouldn’t move if it killed me. Henley was pressed against me, her head lying on my outstretched arm. We hadn’t been this close since the night we had our “first kiss” and I didn’t want to slide out of the bed and wake her. She was clearly shaken up last night after remembering the night of her accident.
We needed to make getting her in to see a therapist a priority so she could learn coping mechanisms for when she gained her memories. I didn’t want her to be traumatized by the pain of remembering.
My wife started stirring next to me, whimpering slightly and tossing around.
“Graham! No!” she shouted.
It was obvious she was having a nightmare, and I hated to wake her, but I couldn’t let her continue with a bad dream.
Shaking her lightly, I whispered, “Henley.”
She turned over, facing me, and opened her eyes. “Graham,” she breathed like she thought I was gone.
“Yeah, baby?” I answered, moving her newly dyed hair off her face.
With her hair done, she looked more like the woman that I married than the woman that woke up in the hospital.
“You got into a bar fight on our fourth date,” she informed me.
Despite my bladder revolting, I turned over so we were face-to-face and nodded.
“Some asshole was hitting on me and you had told him to back off several times. Your last straw was when he swatted me on the ass. You punched him in the face without warning and told him, ‘don’t touch my fuckin’ woman,’” she said, imitating my deep voice.
The trauma of the night before not clouding the mood, I grinned, wide and deep and told her. “I knew you could have handled yourself, but I wasn’t going to let him touch your ass and leave without a broken nose.” I shrugged, making it seem like no big deal.
She was pissed at me for the rest of that night, telling me I could have been arrested for assault and that she could have handled it without my intervention. At that point, she also knew me a little bit and knew I would step in, regardless if she handled herself or not.
“You dreamt about that night?” I asked her, rubbing her cheek and loving the blush that popped up there.
“Yeah, it seems like my memories are coming back to me in dreams,” she said, scooting closer until our bodies were touching from hips to toes.
“That’s a good thing,” I informed her.
Henley nodded, looking at my face thoughtfully before leaning in and pecking my lips softly. “I’m starting to remember all the reasons I picked you to be my husband,” she mused, smiling at me.
“Even if your memories never returned, I would have dated you again, made you fall in love with me again.”
“I like the idea of regaining my memories and us dating in the process. What wife can honestly say she fell in love with their husband twice?”
She was not wrong.
Many people were lucky to fall in love the first time, Henley was being given the opportunity to fall in love with me twice.
“How are you feeling this morning?” I asked, changing the subject knowing we needed to go to the police station and see if they lifted any fingerprints from the living room and give them the rundown of what Henley remembered.
“A lot more calm than last night,” she said, laughing uncomfortably.
“Hey,” I growled, grabbing her attention when her eyes began to slide away. “Don’t ever feel embarrassed around me. This is the one place you can come to without being judged for anything, how you feel, how you react, et cetera. I’ve got you,” I said, sliding my hands into her hair until I reached her neck and pulled her to me until we were forehead to forehead. She nodded, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath in.
Shortly after, we managed to pry ourselves from the bed and go about our morning routine. I used the restroom while Henley pulled our clothes out of the duffel bag, laying them on the freshly made bed.
I encouraged her to take a shower first so I could call a security company to see about a security system.
After several searches on the Internet, I found that Carson Security and Investigations was the top-rated place to get a security system with cameras. It was going to cost me a mint having it installed, but no amount of money was worth Henley’s life.
While I was setting the appointment up for tomorrow, Henley came out of the bathroom, her hair still dripping, and a towel wrapped around her waist. I quickly looked away when my cock started throbbing.
Henley was closer to me than she was just a week ago, but I didn’t want to scare her with my hard dick.
“Bathroom’s all yours,” she said, putting her black leggings on under the towel. The towel started to raise, giving me a peek of her lower ass. The throbbing intensified and I knew I needed to get away.
Clearing my throat, I walked into the bathroom, throwing the door shut a little harder than I intended. Turning the hot water knob, I peeked into the shower but didn’t see any shampoo. I searched the countertops and found no hotel shampoo either.
I walked back into the room, looking at the small area just before you reached the bathroom and asked, “Hey do you know where my shamp—”
My words died in my throat when I finally looked at Henley. She was shirtless, covering her large breasts with her arm, a blush staining her neck and cheeks red. My hard-on came back full force and I had to fight not to rush to Henley and take her lips in a bruising kiss before continuing my assault until I reached her breasts.
“It’s right here,” she whispered, nodding her head to my bottle of shampoo sitting on the bed, right next to her.
Doing my best to control my actions, I stalked to the bed, brushing against the arm Henley was using to cover her tits and grabbed my bottle of shampoo. My eyes stayed on her the entire time, her eyes darkening and her breaths coming in short pants.
She was as turned on as me.
Taking a chance, I stepped a little closer to her, watching as she bit her lip when our skin touched, electricity shooting all the way to my cock.
“Henley,” I groaned, losing the little control I had.
Henley lunged, forgetting her breasts were uncovered. The shampoo bottle I held in my hand was tossed somewhere in the room as my arms circled her waist, catching her before she could slide down my body. With her bare chest against mine, her vanilla scent drifted all around me, my senses fired and made it hard for my brain to remember that this was too soon.
My mouth landed on hers and we were a tangle of tongues, our teeth clashing with the force of our kiss. Henley didn’t seem unsure of herself, so I moved, landing on the bed and holding my weight up.
I pulled away, breaking the kiss, breathing heavy and moved until my lips met her collarbone. I heard the sharp intake of breath and sucked at the sensitive skin. When I was sure my mark would be on her, I moved until my lips were a hairsbreadth away from her nipple.
“Are you sure?” I asked Henley, goose bumps breaking across her skin causing her nipple to pull even tighter.
Without a word, she shoved her chest up until my mouth opened around her nipple and pulled deep. A lengthy, delicate moan escaped her lips causing my dick to throb painfully in my shorts.
Sucking on one nipple, I used my hand to tweak the other. Henley’s hands pulled at my hair painfully while her hips rocked back and forth.
Moving my mouth away from her nipple, I continued my assault on the other one while I kissed down her ribcage until I reached the waistline of her leggings. Gazing at her to make sure I had permission, her head was thrown back in ecstasy and I mentally took a picture of her in my mind. I wanted to remember this moment for the rest of my life.
My wife was beautiful every day. It didn’t matter what she was wearing, if she had makeup on, or her hair done. She was gorgeous.
But this.
Her wild
hair all over the pillow.
Her head thrown back, mouth opening and groaning, she was by far the sexiest thing I had ever laid eyes on.
“Henley,” I warned her, knowing I needed to stop now if she didn’t want it to go further.
“Please,” she pleaded, lifting her hips to allow me to pull her leggings off.
I pulled them down, painfully slow, kissing her thigh, knee, and ankle as they slid down her legs.
“Graham,” she begged.
“I got you, baby,” I assured her.
Moving back up her body, I gave the other leg the same treatment, Henley writhing with each closer stroke of my tongue to her sex.
Henley wasn’t wearing panties and I think both of us sighed in relief knowing we didn’t have another article of clothing to go through before my mouth could get to her pussy.
I threw both her legs over my shoulders, put my nose to her pubic bone and gave one long lick up her sex.
“Ooh,” she whimpered, her hips bucking before I could grab hold of them.
I ate her pussy like it was the last meal I’d ever have, slowing my tongue when her breathing became faster and she was about to come. I wanted to savor every last drop of her, but I also wanted to give her the pleasure she was so desperately seeking.
Finally, when she was tired of me pulling away, her hand slammed down on my head, grabbing a handful of hair and forcing my mouth to stay where it was at.
Her muscles tensed and I moved my tongue in and out of her faster, knowing she was going for her orgasm and trying to give it to her.
Her breaths came to a stop and a barely there scream left her lips and she stilled her hips. My tongue didn’t slow, licking every bit of come until she lay in a puddle on the bed.
When I was sure her orgasm had ended, I moved up her body, giving her small kisses along her hipbones, stomach, ribcage, breastbone, and finally reached her lips.
She kissed me back with as much force as she could muster, but she was spent.
I fell onto the bed next to her, pulled the blanket over her shivering body and gathered her in my arms, rubbing lazy circles on her back.
Several moments passed before I called to her. “Henley, look at me.”
She complied, looking satisfied.
“I know you may not be here yet, but I love you,” I told her, kissing her forehead and then resting my head against her temple. She didn’t say it back, but she gave me a hum of approval.
I didn’t expect her to say anything. She was regaining her memories, but she didn’t remember everything yet, and I was okay with that.
We lay in the bed silently for so long I thought she fell asleep until she started moving around, announcing she needed another shower.
She made a move to get out of the bed, but I snagged her wrists and kissed her deeply before she could leave my side. She melted into me; her hands going into the hair at the nape of my neck and pulling.
“Take a shower with me,” she demanded, tugging as hard as she could to pull me from the bed.
I followed her into the bathroom, gazing at her as she tested the water and jumped in the shower with a renewed sense of energy.
She may not have remembered everything for the last five years, but she still acted the same after having an orgasm, like she could take on the world.
When I didn’t immediately step in the shower behind her, she peeked her head around the curtain, gave me a blinding smile and said, “Are you coming?” Then disappeared in the shower again.
My cock was still throbbing, trying to escape my shorts, and there was no way it was going to lose the blood flow anytime soon. I hoped it didn’t bother Henley.
Untying the shorts, I left them on the floor and stepped into the steamy shower where Henley had her head leaned back, eyes closed, letting the water run through hair.
I also captured this moment mentally.
When she heard the shower curtain close, her eyes came to me and all I saw was mischief.
I narrowed my eyes at her, but she smirked and stepped closer until her body was flush against mine.
My cock twitched, begging to be inside my wife. I had to clench my jaw to control the need to pick her up, slam her against the shower wall and fuck her until she didn’t know her name. She was teasing me intentionally, playing a game she wouldn’t win if she wanted to play dirty.
“Henley,” I said her name as a warning.
“Graham,” she teased back, her voice throatier than it was moments before.
Fuck, she was going to be the death of me.
Her hand moved from around my waist until she grabbed my twitching cock in her small hands. Her hands were wet, creating a damp heat surrounding my cock.
My head fell back on a moan and I reined in my urges.
“Henley, you don’t need to do that,” I informed her. “I didn’t eat you out expecting this in return.”
Henley cocked her head to the side, smiled devilishly and told me, “I want to.”
I didn’t complain anymore, and her small hand pumped my cock, my balls drawing up, begging for release. Henley’s dark eyes stayed on mine the entire time she jerked me back and forth, not stopping for a second.
I was a moment away from coming when she stopped, dropped to her knees and took me in her mouth before I had the chance to pull her back up my body.
A pained groan escaped my lips, and I fell the two steps back to the wall, using it to hold me up.
She fisted the base of my cock and took as much of the rest of it as she could in her mouth, sucking until her cheeks were hollow while twisting her fist.
Fuck, she was good at sucking me off.
Lifting my head away from the wall, I peered down at her through hooded eyes and saw her looking back at me, the mischief still evident on her face. She enjoyed bringing me to my knees figuratively; she loved knowing she had power over the entire situation.
What she didn’t know was she had full control over me any other time too.
My entire life revolved around her.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Henley began sucking faster, her fist stroking harder and I felt my balls tighten, a tingle move from the base of my spine until it wrapped around my head, and I was emptying myself into her mouth. I watched her face the entire time I came, and she swallowed every drop I gave her.
God damn this woman was made for me.
When she was satisfied that I wasn’t coming anymore, she let my dick slide out of her mouth with a pop and stood back up.
Before she could go anywhere, I snatched her into my arms, took her mouth in a bruising kiss and whispered, “Fuck,” when our mouths separated.
“Fuck is right.” She giggled, moving with me under the showerhead.
The rest of our shower was uneventful. I had to leave to get our shampoos again, since they got lost when Henley jumped into my arms. We took turns lathering each other up, and I made sure to take great detail in soaping her breasts, ass, and pussy.
By the time we left the shower, I could tell she was ready for more but knew we had to get to the police station.
As much as both of us didn’t want the real world to exist, it, unfortunately, did.
Before we left, she grabbed my hand, stopping me in my tracks and her hands went to my cheeks, pulling down until our faces were closer.
“I would be more than happy to stay in this hotel room and pretend we were the only people in the world,” she said.
I growled. My woman was fucking perfect.
“I love you,” I said, hoping to convey every emotion I was feeling.
Henley smiled, looking happier than I had seen her in almost a month and gave me a peck on the lips.
***
HENLEY AND I WERE sitting in the busy police station at Roger’s desk, waiting for him to come back.
He had stepped away to take a phone call that we were hoping was the forensic department with a match on the fingerprints they lifted.
Fortunately, they were ab
le to get two complete fingerprints, and we only had to wait on the forensic department to do their job and give us the name they matched.
Unfortunately, the forensic department could take a couple of weeks to get back to us, but Roger assured us it was top priority considering the danger.
After everything that happened with Henley last night, she hadn’t connected the dots by herself that the person who broke into our home and vandalized it was more than likely the same person who hit her. Roger was confident that they were one and the same, and I was inclined to agree with him considering the nasty message written on the wall in red spray paint.
Henley had already given her statement about what she remembered the night of her hit and run, and Roger was more than happy that she was able to remember.
Henley apologized several times, saying she was sorry she couldn’t remember any more than she did. Roger swore that the little she did remember was enough. It confirmed that they were looking for a woman, which narrowed the search considerably. He told Henley he was asking a sketch artist to come in, even if the picture of the woman was fuzzy in her mind, sketch artists were very good at their job.
Roger came back a few minutes later, stating his phone call wasn’t the forensic department, but it shouldn’t be too much longer before they had news.
We left the station a while later, feeling much better since Henley was able to work with the sketch artist and get a pretty decent picture of whoever hit her.
It was a brown-haired woman with striking blue eyes. Her features were delicate, but her nose looked like it had been broken once, if the bump on the bridge was any indication.
We rode back to the hotel, hand in hand, stopping to get food along the way. For the rest of the afternoon and evening, we stayed in bed, munched on snacks Henley insisted we needed, and watched movies on the crappy hotel TV.
Considering the night before, I’d venture out and say we had an amazing day.
Chapter Eight
Henley
THE NEXT DAY WE bumped down our driveway, ready to meet Huxley Carson, the man who was going to install our security system and start the cleanup on our living room.
