Lacey lay in his arms, the silken length of her like liquid heat against his chest. She had finally accompanied him to his bedroom after a night of dancing, and willingly let him seduce her. Greg had stripped her slowly, unveiling every inch of her creamy flesh to his view with the anticipation of a child in a candy store. He had felt her sense of awkwardness when she was totally nude and he was still fully dressed, but he had decided to define the boundaries during their first sexual encounter. He had lifted her and laid her out on his bed, thrilled that she was finally there, looking just like she belonged. He had paid homage to her full breasts, the tips of which were like black cherries, and the taste of her had burst upon his tongue. She had been fairly passive at his request that she let him please her, and it allowed him time to gauge her responses, determine where her sweet spots were and what she liked the best. Oral sex had seemed less familiar to her, and her body had tensed and resisted him, but only for a few moments, and he’d been able to tongue her to a climax in even less time. She was incredibly responsive, and, he believed, submissive, just what he craved in a woman. The sex itself had been nearly everything he had hoped for, and could only be made better when Lacey came to relinquish total control over her pleasure to him, as he was certain she would. As it was, it felt like she completed him.
Greg had kissed her forehead and watched her big brown eyes open and focus on him. “Enjoy yourself, baby?” he had asked.
“Did you?” Lacey had stretched languidly in postcoital stupor, clearly aware that she had pleased him, and Greg had watched the way her breasts lifted with the movement. His cock had begun to harden again, so soon after just fucking them both senseless.
The weeks of just spending time together had entranced him. He rarely got to know the women he fucked personally, although he treated their bodies well. He simply hadn’t been interested enough, but Lacey fascinated him. They had even made the trip to meet her parents, even if Edward and Leticia had not been pleased to meet him, considering his profession and religious background. But it had been an important move to make, and Lacey had appreciated it. He had done it for her. Greg regretted the fact that her family didn’t care for him, especially since his parents had passed away and neither he nor Lacey had any siblings. But his colleagues were his family, and now he had Lacey, and she had him.
Lacey also had a lot of different people who claimed her as friend, primarily because she was so honest and trustworthy, although she spent less and less time with them because of her focus on him, the focus he demanded. He could always count on Lacey, which had been part of the problem after KarLynn had been stabbed and the little kid murdered. She had been so accepting, so undemanding, that Greg hadn’t had to make any effort to include her in his angst or seek out professional help because there had been no expectation from her that he do so. She had trusted that he would come to it on his own and deal with it just as he had trained her to expect he would. Not that it was an excuse. He should have wanted to get it together for her and not become so twistedly complacent in his reaction. He again wondered at his stupidity and who he had driven away. He recalled how he had taken the first step at opening up to Lacey their first full night together.
“I totally enjoyed myself, Lacey. But more than that, it meant something to me.”
Lacey had melted at his statement, and Greg remembered how easy it had been to make it, and how truthful. She knew that Greg and many of his friends had engaged in lots of recreational sex, and knew a little about the club he belonged to, and several of their conversations had been about intimacy and how sex should be the icing on the cake and not the foundation. Greg had initially been less than honest in his opinion. He liked sex. He liked it often and liked to control every aspect of it. He particularly liked to bind his women and sensually torture them until their release was an amazing thing to experience and witness. But Lacey had been right to make him wait until they made sure they were compatible in other areas and liked one another, cared about one another. Their physical joining had been worth waiting for, and he knew that it could only get better when she came to enjoy and accept submission.
“Hey, buddy. You awake?” Greg was jerked out of his thoughts and looked up at Jeff Staples, one of his best cop friends. Jeff had a small duffle bag in his hand, and for a moment, Greg was disoriented enough to wonder if his friend had brought a bunch of sex toys to the hospital.
“I thought you could use a change of clothes, Greg,” Jeff said. “It was actually Alex’s idea, and she put some things in for Lacey, too. I mean, going into emergency and all, she figured Lacey…”
Greg read between the lines. He was still off his game. He should have known that Lacey would have needed some clothes and other stuff. Before the night when things went to hell, he would have been prepared for everything, anticipated everything. He felt his face stiffen, and Jeff interjected.
“Don’t be too proud to accept help, Greg. We would never have gotten Alex back if all of you guys hadn’t pulled together and helped. If we had listened to you in the first place, we might have avoided what happened, period! You and Lacey both doubted what we accepted as evidence, and it nearly cost us Alex. You’ve been through a shitty time, and you can’t expect to have it all under control yet. Save your energy for taking care of Lacey and know that we’re all here for you. Well, most of us,” Jeff amended with a curious grimace. Greg decided not to expend energy on what appeared to be yet another secret he was yet to be made privy to. It was enough that Jeff’s pep talk had given him the impetus he needed to stay the course. Friends needed to support one another. Greg remembered that talk with Jeff and Devon when, quite out of the blue, their Alex had apparently wanted to do a scene at the Club with a “seasoned” Dom. Lacey hadn’t understood it and had insisted it had to be wrong, that there was a problem with communication. Greg had tried to challenge Jeff and Devon on their assumption, but the information and evidence they had compiled refuted Lacey’s lonely assertion and he had backed off, unlike a cop, ignoring intuition. Greg still regretted not pushing harder, or maybe having a personal chat with Melissa, the bitch who had woven that particular web of malicious deceit. It was her Dom, Stephan, who was given the “honors” to give Alex what her men had apparently been unable to provide, all so that Melissa could give Stephan what he wanted and not lose him. That entire dark comedy of errors had driven Alex away to live a bare subsistence, alone. Devon and Jeff had very nearly been driven mad until they found her and brought her home.
“Lacey isn’t real interested in having me anywhere near her at the moment,” he confided ruefully. “I plan to take care of her, but she might have something to say about it.”
Jeff shrugged. “Man up, Greg. I was shit scared that Alex wouldn’t come home, but Devon wouldn’t take no for an answer. You might want to learn from that. Hell, he even helped Kyle find his sub Tabitha that time when she left him. We let Kyle talk to Alex to gain some insight, and Alex knew that Kyle was a righteous guy who wanted to fix things as soon as she met him. She told him to do the same thing, go after her and don’t take no for an answer. She’s in your corner on this, too.”
“That could be perceived as stalking, Jeff,” Greg said quietly.
“Not when it’s in their best interest. You know that. Lacey’ll need time to hear you out, and you’ll need to grovel, probably a whole lot, but I have faith in you. We all do, and so does she. She’s hurting, and she needs you.” Jeff thumped Greg on the upper arm and headed out.
Greg hefted the duffle and ran his hand over his jaw. The morning shift would soon be coming on, and he thought he had better take the opportunity to find somewhere to clean up and then grab a bite before they did. He wanted to make a good impression on the new keeper of the gates. Fortunately he knew his way around, and there was a shower on the next floor he was certain he could use.
* * * *
The clatter of the blinds and the light flooding into the room pulled Lacey from her early-morning slumber. Why was it that a person slept so m
uch better right before they woke up, or were freaking well awakened and that it then felt so damn intrusive? As she had feared, it had been a night of discomfort and fragmented dreams, and she felt like she hadn’t gotten any rest at all. The comings and goings of people in the dark hadn’t helped either, although having the IV removed at some ungodly hour maybe wasn’t the worst thing. It meant she was hydrated and could probably go home soon. The white-uniformed figure busy at the window turned and saw she was awake.
“Good morning! I’m Marie, your day nurse. And how are we feeling today?”
Lacey bitchily wondered if the nurse meant the royal “we.” She pushed away her unusual attitude and forced a smile. “I’m okay. I’d like to get ready and leave if I may.”
“The doctor makes his rounds right after breakfast, and if your blood work comes back satisfactorily, then I’m sure you’ll be discharged before lunch. You’ll be able to eat something far tastier than what we serve! The lab tech is in the room beside this one and you’re next on the list.”
Lacey knew the woman was being cheerful for her sake, and wanted to let Marie’s bonhomie penetrate the heavy blanket of sadness that was settling over her, but it was hard. She contented herself with an upturn of her lips and hoped it passed for a smile. No way was she staying here one more minute than she had to, and if she seemed depressed or upset, they would probably make her see a social worker or somebody. She just wanted to be home in her little bed where she could pull the covers up and recuperate in time for work on Monday. She thought, with considerable bitterness, that the miscarriage had at least happened on a Thursday so she wouldn’t miss too many days on the job. Tears of loss and self-pity gathered in the corners of her eyes, and she blinked furiously. The nurse handed her a tissue and clearly contemplated saying something further. Lacey knew there was some bad news coming even before Marie unpursed her lips and said, “Your, uh, Greg, that is, Mr. Jackson is waiting in the hall to see you. Apparently he’s been there all night.”
Lacey’s heart leapt into her throat and lodged there for a moment before dropping back into her chest like a stone. He was going to be the death of her. She could see her hands trembling and tucked them under the covers, hoping Marie hadn’t noticed. Marie was a buxom blonde, the type of woman Greg used to favor, maybe did again, and Lacey knew he had worked his charm on her to full effect. She longed for Sheila to return and asked Marie where she was.
Marie’s baby blue eyes narrowed, and Lacey realized she had offended the nurse. She hastened to add, “I didn’t have a chance to thank her yesterday before I fell asleep.”
Marie’s expression relaxed, and she assured Lacey that she would pass her gratitude on, and then said, “I’ll just help you clean up a little, get you to the bathroom, and then you and Detective Jackson can have breakfast together.”
Lacey closed her eyes against the other woman’s avid stare. She had no ally there. She went for broke. “I don’t want any visitors, thanks. I’ll just get cleaned up and eat.”
Whatever Marie was going to say was interrupted by a tattoo of fingernails tapping on the door, and Lacey’s stomach unclenched when a little redhead poked around the frame. “Ms. Munroe? I need to poke you.”
Marie said, “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Her back was rigid as she marched out the door, and Lacey could empathize. She had never liked to disappoint Greg either. Too bad. The little lab tech found a vein without any trouble and drew enough blood to satisfy a whole family of vampires. As soon as she left and the door swung closed, Lacey pushed her way out of the confining hospital linens and put her feet on the floor. The room swung crazily for a few seconds and then settled back into balance. The cold tile helped to ground her, and Lacey made her way, carefully, to the bathroom, holding onto the metal sides of the bed and then the little bedside table. Aside from a little dizziness and a whole lot of weakness, she didn’t have a problem, but it was lucky that the bathroom was so close. She used the toilet and discarded her protection and plucked another off the shelf, focusing on the task and ignoring the reason for it. She stayed sitting, reaching over to run water into the sink, the high, U-shaped faucet splashing first cold, then warm water, and she dampened a washcloth. She scrubbed at her face and neck, then threw the cloth into the hamper. There was a little tube of generic toothpaste on the shelf, and she levered herself up to reach it, hanging onto the sink to steady herself. She longed for a bath, but it had taken too much out of her to even wash past the most basic manner.
She clearly had a long way to go before she was back to normal, whatever that might be. She wanted to cry again and somehow made herself stop. Using her forefinger and a lot of paste, she managed to clean her teeth to some degree and felt marginally better. She spat vigorously, and her temples pounded, and cold sweat broke out over her whole body. Okay then. Too much effort. She thought she’d just sit and wait for a few minutes until her strength built up.
The bathroom door pushed open slowly and once again Lacey’s stomach relaxed when Marie came into view. This was insane. At some point Greg was going to come in, and she would be on tenterhooks until he did. Marie didn’t look pleased, but as soon as she saw Lacey’s demeanor, her nursing persona took over.
“You should have waited for help,” she chided. “I told you I was coming back. Are you finished in here?”
Lacey just nodded. She was done. Greg didn’t appear to be. How to get out of this? She wanted the time to process her loss, to grieve quickly and avoid things, to heal, and he wasn’t letting her by dint of his presence. Damn him. She didn’t want to share this with him, allow him to help her through it. Fortunately, Marie didn’t say anything further about Greg, just escorted her back to bed. The return trip took considerably longer, and Lacey was nearly panting by the time she was safely back under the covers.
The breakfast fairy had come in at some point, and a plastic tray sat on the little table, a stainless steel cover with a hole in the top hiding whatever culinary delights had been chosen to aid in her recovery. Marie rolled it to fit over the bed at Lacey’s thighs, and Lacey cautiously lifted the cover and viewed a small dish of what appeared to be wallpaper paste, the ubiquitous cherry Jell-O squares quivering in their own container, and a cup of what turned out to be coffee, clearly ladled from the dishwater rinse and colored with some dregs from the coffee grinder. Lord, she needed to get out of here. She mixed the Cream of Wheat with the Jell-O and forced it down, knowing she needed sustenance and accepting that they wouldn’t let her leave if she didn’t show signs of getting better. The coffee was simply out of the question, and she longed for an extra-large Dunkin’ Donuts, heavy on the cream. She absently wiped the tears from her cheeks, and wondered at them. It seemed that one part of her brain remembered why she was here, even if the other parts were obeying her edict not to think about anything except convincing her doctor to discharge her. Her insurance was void if she left against medical advice.
There was a tap on the door, and the man she needed to convince strolled in. So that was the other male voice she had tried hard not to hear conversing, colluding, with Greg out in the hallway. Whatever happened to patient confidentiality? God save her from men everywhere. Lacey blanked on the doctor’s name, and was grateful to see that he, too, had a nametag on his hip-length white coat, if only he would come close enough so that she could read it. He stared at her, probably assessing her condition, and picked up her chart from where it sat in the metal cubby on the foot of the bed. Crap. She hadn’t thought to look at it.
“Well, Ms. Munroe. You gave us a bit of a scare yesterday I see. How are we feeling today?”
The whole freaking bunch of them were doing the royal thing. Lacey forced a big smile.
“I feel fine,” she lied happily. “Just waiting on you to give me the ‘all clear.’” Men liked happy, sweet, charming women who pretended to be in awe of their superiority. It didn’t matter who they were. Dr. Atkinson proved to be no different. He visibly thawed and beamed at her, and Lacey knew she had won.
The doctor’s next words corrected her presumption. She must be losing her touch along with everything else, although it was more likely that Greg had gotten to him.
“You lost a great deal of blood, Lacey, and I’m not happy with your count. It’s coming back up, but you definitely need more rest and a proper diet. We transfused you, and you hemorrhaged again when we did the D and C. You needed more blood then. I heard you’ve been up and around twice, which amazes me, and I’m not pleased that you were allowed up last night at all.”
“Please,” Lacey tried. Men sometimes gave into tears and pleading, and she no longer had any shame about manipulating the situation. “I don’t want to stay here. I can recover at home.”
“But the woman who brought you in said you live alone. You need someone to care for you, or at least be available should you need it.”
“I have a wonderful landlady, and there’s another tenant on the floor above me.”
Dr. Atkinson smiled at her, and Lacey braced herself. He didn’t disappoint. “I spoke with your gentleman friend in the hall. He told me you would want to be independent. He has offered to have you stay with him until you have completely recovered. I understand that there has been some difficulty in the past, but that he would like to make amends. He is a police detective, and I know how attentive he has been with his partner. There are few secrets in a hospital, after all! She is no longer in need of his support, and so I am quite inclined to discharge you into his care.”
Done [Running to Love 4] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 5
