Nuts About You: A Testicular Cancer Anthology

by Anthology

  “Please, book it for me,” I sighed, none too happy to be spending the night in Paris.

  With my boarding pass in hand, I left the hotel. I certainly couldn’t spend the night here. My little ménage was fun, but I had no desire to see Gabrielle or Sabine again.

  Chapter 8

  I switched hotels, leaving Sabine and Gabrielle behind. I had a fitful sleep—weird dreams invading my subconscious. I was so annoyed at my tossing and turning I decided to get out of bed and head to a café for breakfast. Somehow my feet took me past Drew’s apartment. I couldn’t help but stop and look up at the building, wondering what she was doing inside; what she was doing inside with him.

  The sound of a woman’s laugh filled the air. I knew it well. Gazing at the front entrance of the building, Drew was walking out, arm in arm with the Frenchman. He was definitely older than she was and it made me feel ill. He stopped to hail a taxi and that’s when Drew turned in my direction. Her mouth dropped open, but I couldn’t determine if she was happy or simply shocked to see me.

  Rushing over to my side she said, “Will, what are you doing here?”

  I didn’t reply, because if I said what I was thinking, we’d be in another shouting match.

  A taxi stopped and the Frenchman called out to Drew to gain her attention. She walked over to his side and began talking, motioning to me in the process. The man got inside the taxi, alone, and took off.

  Drew rushed back over to me. “Will you come up to my apartment?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Then what are you doing here?” I didn’t respond, which made her tap her toe on the sidewalk. “So you just decided to jump on plane on Christmas Eve and fly to Paris with no ulterior motive.” When I remained silent, Drew raised her hand and slapped me across the cheek.

  “Fuck, what did you do that for?” I wailed, touching my cheek with my hand.

  “Inside—NOW!” she commanded. A few people on the street turned to look at us. I didn’t like the attention so I begrudgingly followed Drew inside. We rode the elevator, not making eye contact with one another. The ding of the bell alerted us to our stop. I followed behind as Drew led the way to her door.

  We walked inside her apartment. I checked the place out, in my attempts to avoid Drew’s glare. It was so very French. The place had floor to ceiling windows, hardwood floors, and ornate crown molding.

  “Did you change your mind? Is that why you’re here?” she questioned.

  “I thought I had,” I finally responded, “but I see that was a big mistake.”

  She furrowed her brows and shook her head. “I don’t understand?”

  “I saw you last night with him. You’ve been here for two weeks and you’re already fucking someone new.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I saw you enter the elevator last night. You were barefoot, laughing, and you put your arms around his neck,” I recounted what I had witnessed last night. Drew began to laugh. I grabbed my bag and headed for the door. She grabbed me by the arm, pulling me back.

  “What you thought you saw and what actually happened are two very different things.”

  “Please enlighten me,” I huffed, throwing my bag on the floor with a thud.

  “That man was my handler.”

  “So I have been replaced,” I smirked.

  “Last night I had a little too much to drink and he made sure I got home okay. I took my shoes off so I wouldn’t stumble. I put my arms around him so I wouldn’t fall over.”

  “And he slept here, too?”

  “On the sofa!” She pulled me by the hand into the living room. A pillow, sheet and blanket lay strewn on the sofa. She glared at me, her hands on her hips.

  “I’m sorry,” I said in a soft voice.

  “God Liam, you confuse me so much sometimes. What do you want?”

  I didn’t want to talk, unsure I could put it into words, but I could show her. Taking three quick steps, I closed the distance between us. Placing my hand behind her back, I pulled Drew into me and kissed her—deep and passionate. Pushing her on the sofa, I slipped off her shoes and pulled off her jeans. My hands snaked under her sweater and found her breasts. I buried my head between her legs and inhaled her scent. “You are so infuriating, yet so damn sexy,” I seethed, grabbing her string bikini panties and ripping them off her body. Drew spread her legs wide open. She gasped under my touch and then ran her fingers through my hair as I went down on her.

  Drew pulled her sweater over her head and unclasped her bra. “Take your clothes off,” she pleaded. “I need you inside me.”

  I stood and frantically began removing my clothes. “Turn around and kneel on the sofa,” I said, removing my boxers.

  She did and I slowly ran my hand over her bare ass cheek. Drew’s skin was always so soft and perfect. Then I slapped her, hard, for making me feel so out of control. I heard a sharp intake of breath and then a slight giggle. She liked being spanked. I repeated the action on the other cheek. She moaned with pleasure. I couldn’t wait any longer, I took hold of my stiff cock and teased her entrance with my tip. Next I slowly sank into her, loving the feeling of her tight pussy clenching my erection. I moved back out and then slammed into her all the way to my root.

  “Yes,” she cried out.

  I fucked her hard and fast, leaving marks on her hips where my fingers dug into her skin. Then I came inside her. Leaning over, I planted a trail of light kisses along her spine. Drew was the most addictive drug you could imagine and I was the addict, incapable of saying no. Once I pulled out, I scooped her up in my arms and carried her to the bedroom.

  Drew cuddled in my arms as we lay in bed. “So does this mean you’ll stay with me?” she asked, peeking up at my face. She smiled and it melted my resolve.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you love me?”

  “How could you even ask such a thing?”

  “You’ve never said it.”

  “Haven’t I shown you time and time again? The way I look out for you, rescue you, and make love to you. Can’t you feel the love I have for you in all those actions?”

  “I’ve never thought of it that way,” she confessed. “You’ve always had my back, Liam. You were always there for me. You never deserted me like Steven, well, until you went off to Harvard. That hurt. I tried to stay away and do what you wanted, but I couldn’t. I’m drawn to you. My life just doesn’t seem right when you’re not in it.”

  I knew exactly how she felt, because I felt the same way. “I know. That’s why I’m here. I couldn’t concentrate on anything at school. I thought about you day and night. I have no idea if we can make this work, but I want to try, if you’ll still have me.”

  “Yes!” she squealed with glee before kissing me.

  Chapter 9

  It was noon when we finally got out of bed and decided to head to a café for lunch. I felt calm and centered as we walked hand in hand along the boulevard toward our destination. Maybe she was right all along. Maybe we were meant to be together. Stopping at a crosswalk, I leaned in and kissed Drew, out in public, and no one paid attention to us. We enjoyed a relaxing meal, talked and laughed as we walked along the Seine and made passionate love at night. It was a magical, perfect day.

  In the week that followed, we lived like Scott and Zelda, a couple of well-fashioned expats. I spent the days Drew was working sitting at my favorite café, writing my book. Her career was progressing nicely. Drew was happy and I was so proud of all the hard work she was putting into her career. I decided to defer Harvard and had no regrets. I realized I didn’t need a fancy college degree to prove my worth. I could write anywhere in the world and that’s what I did.

  A tap on my shoulder startled me. I looked up to find Drew standing over my shoulder.

  “Hey, handsome,” she greeted, glancing at my journal. “Look at you, writing old school.”

  “How was your day?”

  “Great, I’m hungry, I haven’t eaten all day,” she admitted taking
a seat.

  The waiter approached the table and Drew ordered soupe de poisson and Perrier. After the waiter left our table, Drew leaned her head on my shoulder. “So what you writing Hemingway?”

  I closed my journal. “It’s a secret.”

  She pouted. “You won’t even share it with your gorgeous girlfriend?”

  Girlfriend—that word took some getting used to. I couldn’t actually believe how wonderful things were between us. The fact that we could walk the streets incognito, took away so much pressure. It allowed us to be normal people. It was a gift I would always cherish. I leaned in and kissed her. “When I’m finished with the story, I’ll share it with my gorgeous girlfriend.”

  We began our walk home. I loved walking the streets of Paris. There was so much to discover. I held Drew’s hand and she smiled at me as we began to cross the boulevard.

  In a split second, a car came screaming down the street, passing other cars. I grabbed Drew around the waist and pushed her back toward the sidewalk as the crunch of metal hitting bones sounded in my ear. I felt a sharp pain reverberate through my body and then nothing. When I opened my eyes, a crowd of people had gathered around me. Drew was kneeling at my side, tears streaked down her cheeks.

  “Hold on, Liam. We’re getting you an ambulance.”

  I looked her in the eyes and whispered, “I love you.” My world began to fade to black.

  My brain registered pain, my nose smelled disinfectant, and my ears heard the beeping of a nearby machine. I couldn’t be dead and experience all these things. My eyes fluttered open to find Drew’s head leaning on the mattress next to me. She was sleeping. Gingerly, I lifted my hand and caressed her silky hair.

  Drew’s eyes flew open and she jolted up from the mattress. “Liam, oh Liam, thank God you’re awake,” she said with relief, squeezing my hand.

  “What happened?” I whispered, unable to find my voice.

  “You don’t remember?”

  I shook my head no.

  “You saved me from a speeding car. You were hit. The doctors had to remove your spleen and you broke a leg.”

  “That explains the excruciating pain,” I said, attempting to make a joke.

  “I’ll go get the doctor.”

  “No,” I said, refusing to let go of her hand. “Are you okay? You look awful.”

  “Gee thanks, Will. Considering I’ve been here for over twenty-hour hours, I think you could cut me some slack. Being a supermodel takes a village, you know.”

  My wicked girl was back and it made me chuckle, which brought on more pain. I winced, draping my arm over my stomach. “Let me go get you some pain meds,” she said.

  My mom and sister arrived in Paris to help Drew take me home from the hospital. Steven was in Tunisia, shooting a film. I had three women doting on me and it was starting to make me crazy. I sat on the sofa trying to keep my cool, but I just wanted them to act as if nothing had changed.

  “Darling, I’ll make up your bed. Where is your bedroom?” Mom asked.

  “There’s only one bedroom, Mom,” I informed her.

  “You can’t spend your recovery sleeping on this couch, Liam.”

  “I won’t sleep on the couch. I’ll be sleeping in our bed.”

  Realization dawned on her face as her mouth made a little ‘o’ shape. “You two are together?”

  Drew nervously tapped the back of the sofa, while biting her bottom lip. I nodded. “Yes, we are together.”

  “I think it’s fantastic!” Alex jumped in to save the awkward moment.

  “I’m sorry, this is a bit of a shock,” Mom apologized. It took a few moments, but then she smiled. “C’est la vie!’”

  “You can fill in Daddy,” Drew said. “I don’t think he’ll be as accepting of our relationship as you are.”

  Mom walked over to Drew and hugged her. “I’ll talk to him. He’ll come around.”

  Later that evening, Drew and I lay in bed together. “I think that went well, don’t you? Your mom is so cool,” she added.

  “Maybe she’ll be a good influence on Steven.” Drew leaned in and kissed me. It was a sweet innocent kiss that quickly turned into desire as she slipped her tongue inside my mouth. When we parted for air, I noticed a single tear sliding down her cheek. “Don’t cry. Please be happy,” I begged.

  “I am happy. It’s just that when that car hit you, I thought I’d lost you forever,” she confessed. “I can’t bare to lose you, Liam.”

  “Shhh,” I whispered, stroking her hair. “Everything is okay. I’m going to be fine. A few bumps and bruises won’t stop me from being with you.”

  “I’m going to take care of you,” she solemnly announced, sitting up in bed. “I’m going to nurse you back to health and while you’re stuck in bed you are going to finish that kick ass novel and let me read it.”

  I chuckled, shaking my head at her emotional turn. “My great American novel.”

  “Your great Parisian novel,” Drew corrected me.

  “Guess I need to learn French.”

  “Definitely,” she murmured, moving closer to my lips. “Let’s start with a French kiss.”

  “I think I have that one down already,” I smiled before capturing her lips.

  It was a slow road to recovery, but six weeks later I finally had my cast removed and I was fully healed from the surgery. Drew cut back on her go-sees to spend time by my side and help me recover. I had to admit, it was weird having her take care of me. We had switched roles, and it was taking a toll on her. Drew was always tired and she wasn’t eating. I felt concerned for her, desperately needing things to go back to normal for both of us.

  Drew came out of the bathroom with a worried look on her face.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “I need to sit down,” she said, joining me on the sofa. Drew took hold of my hand. “I love you,” she said.

  “I love you, too.”

  She nervously squeezed my hand a couple times and took a few deep breaths, then she closed her eyes and said, “I’m pregnant, Liam. I just took a pregnancy test.” Drew handed me the white stick that contained a pink plus sign.

  Of all the things she could have said, that statement never entered my mind. She was going to have my baby. I had just turned twenty. She was twenty-two. Could we possibly handle this?

  “Are you happy about this? What about your career?”

  “I don’t know,” she honestly replied. “Are you happy about this?”

  I thought about her bombshell announcement; envisioned us sailing a boat and walking in the Garden des Tuileries, taking him on a boat cruise along the Seine and scaling the Eiffel Tower. It brought a smile to my face. “Yes, I’m happy. Do you want to keep this baby? I would understand if you had reservations.”

  She contemplated my question and slowly nodded her head. “Yes, I want to have your baby. I don’t know what will happen to my career. Honestly, I don’t care. If you stay here with me and raise this baby, nothing else matters. I almost lost you once. It can’t happen again.”

  Excited by the prospect of a child, I said, “Marry me. Neither one of us knows what the future will bring. Since the accident, I don’t want to put off the things I want in life. I want you Drew. I want us to be a family.”

  Drew titled her head, and bit her bottom lip. Hers eyes lit up. “You’re not joking, are you?” she warily questioned.

  I shook my head. “Let’s stay in Paris permanently. Will you marry me, Drew Reynolds?”

  She let out the breath she’d been holding in and threw her arms around me. “Yes!”

  In typical Steven fashion, he rented Le Jules Verne restaurant at the Eiffel Tower, for our wedding. He was always the director, coming up with some spectacular plan. Drew was giddy with excitement. If this was Steven’s olive branch, I urged Drew to accept it. In all honesty, who gets the opportunity to have one of the most famous restaurants in Paris as you private wedding venue? We quietly married a few weeks later, with Alex, Mom, and Steven in attendance.
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  Drew wore a couture Dior wedding dress with a plunging neckline and a tulle skirt that flared out at the waist. I dressed in a Dior suit that she had chosen for me. In that spot, with The City of Light as our backdrop, we said our vows that late afternoon in early March. We promised to love and cherish until death do we part; hopefully seventy years in the future.

  Steven was less than thrilled with the prospect of me marrying his daughter. Mom said it wasn’t me he had the problem with it was his lack of faith in Drew. He didn’t believe she was mature enough to take on the responsibilities of marriage and a baby. A year ago, I would have agreed with him. Now, she was a different person. Together we could do anything.

  Special thanks to the blogger community who have been so welcoming and generous with their time to read, review and promote my work and the readers all over the world you enjoy my deliciously smutty tales!

  T.S. Irons likes all things smutty! She loves lingerie, sexy movies and hot reads.

  She lives in Pennsylvania with her sexy husband and their crazy dog.

  Her published works include Stepdaddy Dom (Step-Dom), Sibling Rivalry, My Wicked Stepsister, Brat Out of Hell and Revelations: Confessions of a Dirty Girl.

  Also by T.S. Irons

  Stepdaddy Dom

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  © 2015, Theresa Troutman (T.S. Irons)

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