Stripped Down

by Lorelei James

  But the man didn’t let her sob into her pillow. He simply picked her up and hauled her onto his lap, forcing her tears to fall on his chest. He murmured unintelligible things, but they soothed her with their intent.

  After she settled, Wynton kissed the tears from her face. “It wrecks me to see you cryin’. Guts me like nothin’ else. Except seein’ you unresponsive in the barn.” He rested his forehead to hers. “I still have a ton of questions, but I’ll let it be for now. You test your level and then rest a little longer.”

  “Will you stay in here with me?”

  “If you want.”

  “I do.”

  He grinned. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  Chapter Eleven

  Wyn had thrown a roast, potatoes, and veggies in the slow cooker before they’d loaded cattle earlier this morning, so at least he could feed her properly.

  While she’d slept he’d texted Cres, letting him know she was doing better.

  He’d done a little more research online.

  But the answer he needed the most he could only get from her.

  Melissa wandered into the kitchen. “Hey. You let me sleep a long time.”

  “You needed it.” He kicked out a stool. “Have a seat. We can eat whenever you’re ready.”

  “Smells good. What is it?”

  “Roast. My mom’s recipe. I followed it to the letter so I didn’t screw it up. I’m not so good at improvising.”

  She gave him a smug look. “Maybe not when it comes to cooking.”

  “True. Is there anything you need to do before we eat?”

  “No. I’ll shower after dinner. Is there anything I can help you with?”

  Wyn shook his head. “It’s a one pot deal so I’ll just plop it on the counter and dish it up.”

  Although they sat side by side, they didn’t talk during the meal. He kept sneaking looks at her to see if she was really enjoying the food or if she was just pushing it around on her plate. But her plate was nearly empty.

  “Stop looking at me out of the corner of your eye. I’m fine.”

  He faced her. “It’s not that.”

  “Then what?”

  “I’m embarrassed that this is the first time I’ve cooked for you in my home. I never thought I’d be the type of guy who’d take for granted that you’d cook for me when you stayed here because you’re a woman.”

  She set her hand on his arm. “I cooked for us because I like to cook. And since you’ve been stewing about this you probably know that the other reason I did it was because I have dietary restrictions.”

  “So you wouldn’t set off my warning bells if I made something that you couldn’t eat. And then I wouldn’t ask questions if you were doin’ all the cooking.”

  Melissa shoved her plate across the counter. She wiped her mouth and turned her barstool toward him. “We’re having this out now? Fine. Ask me.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because you were supposed to be a one-night wedding hookup, Wynton.”

  He counted to ten. “But it didn’t turn out that way. You’ve been livin’ in my house, we’ve been workin’ together, sorting cattle almost every day for three weeks, we’ve been fucking like bunnies…and not once when you were scurrying off to your room to test your blood sugar and inject yourself with insulin did it ever occur to you to tell me that you’re diabetic? And that you could have some sort of serious episode that might send you into a coma? I keep thinking how goddamned glad I am that Mick came back here and had the experience to know all wasn’t right with you. Do you have any idea how it made me feel that I didn’t know my lover has a life-threatening disease? That I wouldn’t know what the fuck to do if something like that happened when we were alone? That you could’ve died because I wouldn’t have known how to help you? That flat out sucks, Melissa. And I know this ain’t about me, but goddammit, you know it was wrong to keep this from me for even a day, let alone fuckin’ weeks!”

  Wyn’s voice had escalated and he shrank back away from her. Shit. He hadn’t meant to yell at her. He scrubbed his hands over his face. “Fuck. Sorry. I just…” He pushed back from the counter.

  “Wynton—”

  He held up his hand. “Just give me a minute.” He walked to the back door. The day had stayed warm and although the sun had set, he welcomed the breeze blowing through the screen, needing something to cool him off because he hadn’t gotten a handle on his temper like he thought he had.

  Soft arms circled his waist. Melissa rested her cheek on his shoulder blade. “I’m sorry. I can’t say that enough and mean it enough. I never wanted you to see me like that.”

  “Which is why you didn’t tell me?”

  Her sigh warmed his shirt where her mouth rested. “No. I didn’t tell you because I worried that it’d spook you.”

  “Why in the hell would you think that?”

  “Um, I was at the hospital with you during your dad’s ordeal, remember? And we had a few conversations about how you didn’t know how to deal with health crises situations. You said you either shut down or used avoidance. You admitted you were freaked out by Sutton’s injuries—both times—and how relieved you were that he made a full recovery because you weren’t sure you could handle him being permanently damaged. So tell me, I was just supposed to blurt out that I have a condition that might end up blinding me? Making me lose a limb? That I had to deal with medication and monitoring every day for the rest of my life? You would’ve said, ‘Thanks for telling me, Melissa. I know we haven’t even been on one date yet, but I want to learn everything about your condition on the off chance that I’m not freaked out by helping you deal with this every day forever.’ That’s bullshit and you know it.”

  She was right. Fuck he hated that she was right. She hadn’t even mentioned how horrified he’d been that she had dealt with a permanently injured sibling. And she hadn’t called him out on his less than grateful attitude that he’d been spared that.

  “Do you want to know how my mother reacted when I told her? She tried to convince me that I was mistaken. I couldn’t possibly have ‘contracted’ type 1 diabetes as a thirty-two-year-old woman. She got all haughty and informed me that what I meant was I had type 2 diabetes. And well, she had little sympathy for me because everyone knows that type 2 diabetes is a disease fat, lazy people and alcoholics bring on themselves by not taking care of themselves.”

  Wyn didn’t know if he could stomach any more of this.

  You will listen, asshole. You’re the one who demanded to know why she hadn’t told you. Now that she has the guts to do so, you ain’t gonna puss out.

  “Then she said she couldn’t believe I was making such a big deal about it. That there were people like Alyssa with real physical problems that couldn’t be fixed by a change in diet and exercise. And it was sad that I needed attention for a situation of my own making, and I should be ashamed. That I shouldn’t contact them again until I got my life in order.”

  He spun around and gathered her into his arms when the sobs broke free. “Baby, I’m so sorry.”

  “So you can see why I’d be less than eager to relive that experience.”

  “No offense, but your family is a bunch of fucking idiots.”

  “It still hurts.”

  “I can’t imagine.” He kissed the top of her head. “Did your sister react the same way?”

  “I haven’t told her.”

  “I’m sensing a pattern here, Kentucky.”

  Melissa head-butted his chest. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I haven’t told Alyssa because she’s been in Europe for fucking ever and I haven’t talked to her.” She looked at him. “Are you ever going to forgive me for not telling you?”

  “Yes. If you’ll let us start over.”

  “Meaning what?”

  He took the biggest chance of his life. “As much as I’d like to pretend this has only been about sex between us, that’s a lie. It’s been about more than that since the second you walked into the hosp
ital and stayed with me all night. I like being around you. I like having you in my house and part of my life.”

  “I-I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say you’ll give me a chance—us a chance.”

  “I’m supposed to leave tomorrow.”

  Wyn kissed her. “I know. I’m askin’ you to rethink that.”

  Those soulful brown eyes searched his. “What happened today hasn’t scared you off?”

  “Exactly the opposite.” It makes me want to hold on to you tighter. It makes me want to prove to you that I can love you like no one else can. It makes me think I’ve been single all these years because I was waiting for you.

  She sighed and snuggled into him. “You make my head spin, Wynton Grant.”

  “Is that a good thing?”

  “A very good thing. Now, can we curl up on the couch and watch South Park?”

  “Yeah. Hearing you laugh will do me a world of good, Kentucky.”

  “I was thinking the same thing about you, cowboy.”

  When Mel felt so restless she thought she might crawl out of her skin, she told him she needed an orgasm to relax.

  He told her to take a shower. And he insisted she clean up in his master bathroom since his huge shower had a bench seat in case she got tired.

  The man was still babying her.

  She sort of loved it.

  As hard as she tried to convince him he didn’t have to sit on the vanity and watch her, the stubborn man didn’t listen.

  After she’d washed and conditioned her hair, shaved and loofah-ed her skin with her favorite lavender vanilla body wash, she rinsed off and decided to put her plan to get a little action into action. But the man usurped her intent to give him a show—rubbing one out while sitting on the bench, her legs spread wide—when he entered the shower completely naked with that wicked gleam in his eyes.

  “I could tell by the way your ass twitched that you were up to no good, Amazing Slut-Girl. So if you’re feelin’ up to teasing me then I figure you’re up for this.” He dropped to his knees and pulled her to the edge of the bench. “Brace yourself, arms behind you.” Then he nuzzled her patch of pubic hair and slid his tongue up and down her slit.

  “You are so very, very good at that, Super Man-Slut.” Melissa felt dizzy for an entirely different reason, but she wouldn’t tell him because he might stop doing that swirling thing with his tongue.

  Wynton wasn’t in a teasing mood. He ate at her as if he was starved for her. The water from the shower flowed over her skin like a dozen softly caressing fingers. Tiny sparkling droplets beaded on his face, the ends of his hair, and those amazingly long eyelashes. His fingers tightened on her ass and he stopped sucking to growl, “Fuck. I know where all the sugar in your body has gone to. Right here. Christ. You’re as sweet and addictive as candy.”

  She trembled at the power behind his meaning. “Wynton. Please.”

  “Give it to me.”

  “I am.”

  “You’re holding back. I wanna feel you explode on my tongue.”

  “Then stop talking and put your mouth back on my clit,” she retorted.

  His laughter vibrating on her swollen tissues had her gasping.

  And the man knew just how to use that skilled tongue.

  She shattered—the pulsing, pounding, dizzying orgasm sent her soaring to that other white void.

  When she floated back down and opened her eyes, she saw something she’d never wanted to see on her lover’s face. Concern.

  He opened his mouth—probably to ask if she was okay—and she placed her fingers over his lips.

  “Don’t. I feel great. I want to feel even better. So get up here and fuck me. I want to lose myself in you for a little while.” She scraped her fingers across the dark stubble on his cheeks, loving how the water had softened those bristly hairs. “There’s something else I didn’t tell you.”

  “What?”

  “You’re the first man I’ve been with since I was diagnosed.”

  “Why me?”

  “Because you’re like me—or the me I used to be before. Unapologetically sexual. I liked the way you just took over. I’ve never had that. Never needed it. Never wanted it. So once we got past the first couple of times we were naked together, I thought if you noticed the insulin injection sites while we were rolling around in the sheets then it wouldn’t be as big a deal. That I could tell you the truth and maybe you wouldn’t kick me out of bed. When you didn’t notice them, for the first time in six months I felt like myself again. You have no idea what that meant to me.”

  “Yeah, baby, I think I do.” Wynton kissed his way up her body, stopping to lick the water off her nipples. When he reached her neck, he sucked and nuzzled the spot that made her wet, made her wiggle, made her moan. “When I was in your room earlier I noticed a package of birth control pills on the dresser. You’ve been taking the pill?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Because I want you bare. No barriers between us. I’m clean. I haven’t been with anyone in eight months.” He brushed his lips over her ear. “I’ve never had sex without a condom.”

  She pushed him back to stare into his eyes. “Never?”

  “Never. I’ve haven’t been interested in a long-term relationship. Until now. Until you, Melissa.”

  It took every bit of control for her not to burst into tears. She managed to keep her tone light. “Lucky for you I’m so wet we won’t even need lube since we won’t be using a lubed up condom.”

  He kissed her then. Kissed her and pulled her into his arms. He maneuvered them so he was sitting on the bench and they were face to face. “You’re beautiful.”

  “You don’t have to flatter me. I’m a sure thing, Wynton.”

  “You’re still beautiful.” When he kissed her like she was precious to him, and not as if he was being careful because she was fragile, she understood his tenderness came from his strength. And she loved him all the more for it.

  Locking her ankles around his lower back, she draped her forearms on his shoulders. When she felt him position the head of his cock at her entrance, she whispered, “Go slowly so I can watch your face.”

  Wynton kept one hand on her ass and the other cupped her neck as he eased into her fully. “Oh yeah. That feels fucking fantastic.”

  “Make this last. I want to feel you fill me every single time.”

  He groaned. “Babe. Cut me a break. The first time with no condom. I don’t know how long I can last.”

  They moved together slowly, taking time to kiss and taste and caress. And when he couldn’t hold back any longer, she slipped her hand between their bodies and got herself off the same time he bathed her pussy in his liquid heat.

  Only after he kissed her did she notice he’d turned the water off.

  “Did you mean it?” he whispered.

  “Mean what?”

  “Mean it when you said, tell him I love him.”

  Her heart raced. “I didn’t think you heard that.”

  “I did. And I want to know if you meant it.”

  “Yes, I meant it.”

  He smiled against her neck.

  “Wynton. This is where you tell me this isn’t logical. That it’s crazy I fell in love with you in three weeks.”

  “I can’t do that. I’m suffering from the same lack of logic, Kentucky, because I fell in love with you too.”

  Mel eased back and looked into his eyes.

  “Don’t go tomorrow. Stay with me.”

  “For how long?”

  “Just until the end of time.”

  She laughed. But her smile faded when she realized he wasn’t joking. “Are you sure? Everything is up in the air with me.”

  “Those things would still be up in the air regardless if you were here or in Timbuktu.”

  “You do have a point.”

  He rested his forehead to hers. “Let’s figure some of this out together.”

  “No rush?”

  “None.”

  “Okay.”


  Chapter Twelve

  One week later…

  Mel’s phone rang and her pulse jumped, as it always did when she saw her sister’s name on the caller ID. “Hello?”

  “What the hell, sis? I just found out that you have type 2 diabetes?”

  “Hi Alyssa, long time no talk. How are you?”

  “Pissed. God. I’ve been gone to Europe for eight months and I don’t hear from you at all—we’ll get into that bullshit in a minute. So when I ask Mom how you’re doing, she just casually fucking mentions that you have ‘contracted’ diabetes, like it’s some kind of venereal disease?”

  Mel laughed. She loved her sister. Over the years, Alyssa had taken total control of her life. She didn’t take shit from anyone, including their parents, and she’d plow over anyone who got in her way of achieving her many goals. The woman was a muscular beast—on her upper half anyway—and she could inflict some serious damage on anyone dumb enough to assume that being paralyzed from the waist down meant that her brain was somehow impaired. “I can say this to you because you understand, but Mom was a stone-cold bitch when I told her about my diagnosis. And I don’t have type 2 diabetes, I have type 1. Which means I’ll be insulin dependent for the rest of my life. Of course, Mom being the medical expert on all things insisted I didn’t know my own diagnosis.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “Nope.” And because it felt good to get all of this off her chest with Wynton, she did it again, detailing the entire conversation between her and their mother.

  Alyssa was so quiet for so long afterward that Mel thought they’d gotten disconnected.

  “Hello?”

  “I’m still here. Checking my blood pressure because I’m fuming so hard. First of all, it sucks that not only did you discover you have a serious health issue, you didn’t have family support after you found out.” She paused. “You didn’t keep me out of the loop about your diagnosis to pay me back for bein’ such a sorry-assed cunt to you after my accident?”

  Mel snorted. How had she forgotten that bloody cunt and sorry-assed cunt were her sister’s favorite words? “God, no. I knew you were rolling across the globe, being the world spokeswoman for impaired athletes and inspiring millions. I didn’t want to burden you.”