Fractured Fairy Tales: A SaSS Anthology

by Amy Marie

  She sinks back into her memories. “He put his hands up, wanting to get the rest out and reassure me.”

  I give her a moment alone with him, and she loses some of her accent. I know she’s quoting Philip again. “If we get married, you can come to Germany with me. And I know I’m rushing you to make a decision, because I don’t see any other option for us to stay together, but we could...well, take our time and keep dating. Get to know each other before we decide to be a real married couple.”

  God, I wish I could thank this man for taking such good care of Roxie. A wave of tenderness washes over me at her vulnerability—at the weight she’s shouldered alone all these years. I can’t help myself anymore. I walk over to her, lift her from the chair and scoot underneath her. I wrap my arms around her, cocooning her in my lap. I start rocking her, like when the boys were young and needed comfort.

  I love this woman.

  I never want her to feel so alone again.

  I lose track of time, and her voice startles me out of my reverie.

  “Should I tell him?”

  “I don’t know, darlin’. I’m torn—part of me wants to walk you through it like Dr. Black would, and part of me wants to help you make that decision. Which do you want?” I barely touch the tip of her chin with my forefinger, just a hint that I want her attention, and she looks in my direction.

  Time to be brave, Crawford.

  “Do you want me to help you walk through this on your own two feet, or do you want to make your decision together with the man who loves you?”

  She stiffens, and I think I’ve screwed this up six ways from Sunday. Then her face softens. She studies me, lashes starry from tears, and her hand comes up to palm my cheek. “You love me?”

  “Yes, darlin’, I love you.”

  Her whole body collapses against me, trembling. My body reacts, aching at the press of her body against mine, but I know she’s too vulnerable right now.

  She lifts her head again, softly pressing her salty lips to mine, and says the sweetest words in the English language. “I love you, too.”

  Slowly, like a sunrise, her lips turn up into a smile that takes over her entire face. “So how would you walk me through making the decision?”

  I have to admit, I’m a little disappointed. But she is a therapist, so this makes sense. “I’d ask you what your first thought is, and why you would take that course of action. Pros and cons. The consequences. Have you do the same for the other option. I’d ask if there’s anything preventing you from taking action, and see if we could resolve that so you’re making the decision you want to, not the one you have to. Then I’d leave it in your hands.”

  She smiles, obviously pleased. I try to be happy about that, but it still stings a little that she chose this option. “Are you sure you’re not a therapist?” She smooths her hand over my cheek again. “And what would the man who loves me say, sugar?”

  I know she can see my face light up. I can’t hide it—don’t even bother trying. “I’d ask what purpose does telling Alex now serve? I mean, if he needed medical treatment, it would be different. I’m not saying don’t tell him, though. I’m advising against telling him now because of how stressed the thought makes you. My advice is to work through that stress on your part. It’s not like telling him will make Philip look bad—it would make him look even better. But I’d decide how much to tell him about Jason. Enough so he understands why he was never involved, so he doesn’t have unrealistic expectations. At the same time, if they ever did connect and Jason had by some chance grown up, you want Alex not to hate him.”

  “Also good advice, sugar.” She nestles against me. “I need to chew on that, sort out why it panics me.” She takes a heavy breath. We sit in silence for a while longer. Her body relaxes and melts into me a little more with each breath.

  She puts her hand on my chest and pushes herself more upright. Her head lifts, and I realize she’s been sifting through her feelings this whole time.

  “I think it was because Philip and I made that decision together. We discussed the possibility of eventually telling Alex, but he suggested waiting. He wanted to find out the legal ramifications depending on Alex’s age. That Jason couldn’t get custody out of spite if he found out. That back child support was no longer an issue, so Jason couldn’t use that as an excuse to reject him. He also mentioned possibly waiting out puberty, in case he hit that mid-teen emotional hurricane point and tried to run away and find him.”

  “That’s smart. We both know I’m not a therapist. I’m not a lawyer, either, but I’m pretty damn sure we’re safely past all those points now, darlin’.”

  That earns a chuckle. “I know, but my point is, he and I made that decision together. We talked about maybe telling Alex later, but we tabled the discussion until we were closer to acting on it. Philip died long before we got to any of those points. And I just shut down. I stayed on autopilot, not changing my course. In hindsight, if Philip had lived, we probably would have told Alex at some point in his teens. But I just froze up, so I never did any of that.”

  She sinks back into me, but her hand stays on my chest, rubbing absently. And no matter how many other things I try to think of, my dick takes notice. It never completely settled down from before.

  This is not the time.

  I reorganize my department mentally, trying to find a more efficient way to schedule the linemen for emergency repairs. We have a lot of storms in the spring, so I need to be prepared.

  I’m still sporting a decent semi despite getting lost in the world of utility work, so I’m too distracted to realize her hand is traveling lower.

  Until she realizes I’m still sporting wood.

  My brain registers her hand unbuttoning my pants about the time all blood leaves it for a southern destination.

  “Roxie, darlin’,” I caution. It’s out of obligation. I sound more frantic than convincing.

  Her voice is deeper. Husky. “Yeah, sugar?”

  “I don’t think...”

  She shifts her position, and words stop going through my brain.

  She straddles me.

  That semi I had earlier? All the blood that left my brain found a new home. I’m so hard, it hurts.

  Then she throws her head back, red hair streaming loose behind her. And then?

  She. Grinds. On. My. Dick.

  I don’t even bother with words. I stand with her in my arms, never more pleased about my increased workouts. I don’t want to move her away from where she is, but I don’t want to take the chance of dropping her. If only I were younger, still working as a lineman, I’d trust my strength and balance.

  But taking care of her is more important than my pride.

  I torture both of us and slide her slowly down my body, putting her on her feet. Both our hands link without thought, and I study her face carefully. I need to slow this down, so we make decisions we won’t regret in the morning.

  “I knew we were headed this direction, darlin’. I’ve been taking better care of myself. Working harder on therapy, letting shit go I don’t need to hold onto. Getting healthier. Last time I went to the doctor, I had him run a bunch of tests.”

  I pause, feeling heat rise on my face. Damn, how do younger people do this, so matter of fact? This is awkward as hell.

  “I’m, uh...” I free one hand and wave vaguely toward my crotch, “...good to go.”

  Roxie stares at me for a moment, and I know my blush deepens under her scrutiny. She bursts out laughing, turning sideways and bending over.

  Not the reaction I expected.

  She starts doing the waving at her face thing, trying to gain control and stop laughing. “Did you just try to give me the sexual health talk with a wave and good to go, like a mechanic’s dismissal after an oil change? Do you need to pat the roof when you say that?”

  I freeze for a moment, but I realize all her previous tension has drained from her body. I’ll take a little teasing over her holding onto stress. I chuckle with her. “Darlin’,
your mind is a fascinating place.”

  Her laughter subsides. “I know I get this hysterical laughter thing sometimes, especially when I’m stressed or nervous. Usually over inappropriate things.” She waves at my crotch, like I did.

  He’s still behaving inappropriately for her, and she giggles once more.

  “Anyway, thanks for not getting offended.”

  “I think it’s obvious I haven’t had practice with that discussion. Amelia and I, we met young. Never dated anyone else. First everything, you know?” I swallow. “I went on a business trip the end of last summer. About a month before the anniversary...” I trail off.

  She nods in understanding.

  “A woman approached me in the hotel bar. There was a lot of bourbon involved. Eventually she asked about my wedding ring. Took me to her room. She went through that whole speech. She asked me if I’d been tested recently as she loosened the tie to her dress, and the whole damn thing just slid off. She was standing there in her underwear. She grabbed a box of condoms, and then she whipped off my belt.”

  I swallow nervously, remembering that awkward night. “I just froze. I was horrified. I would like to think I communicated my apologies and told her I wasn’t ready. More likely, I made garbled sounds and ran out of there without my belt. Thank God I was wearing pants, because I probably would have left without them and been stuck outside my room, half naked and without a key. I say all that to show you how much I’ve actually improved with, as you called it, the sexual health talk.”

  Roxie reaches for my hands again. “The drinking—did it really kick in after that?”

  My head jerks back. I hadn’t thought about this since it happened—likely tried to bury the memory so I never would—so I’ve never made this connection. “You know, Dr. Black mentioned he thought something happened, more than just the anniversary and the holidays that precipitated the heavy drinking. He felt like I was missing part of the picture. I think this was it.”

  She squeezes my hands. “To get back on track, I was also tested at my last appointment. It’s been a while, but our make-out sessions have been the extent of my sex life since then. I’m all clear, by the way—the tests, as well as confirmation that I’m in menopause.”

  My heart races. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

  “No condoms necessary.”

  I swallow convulsively.

  Heat starts burning through my body as I take her hand and lead—or maybe drag—her down the hall.

  Clothes start coming off at the bedroom door. Out of habit, I close it. I also turn on my heels, pressing her against the door as I kiss her. My hand winds its way into her hair again, and I roughly turn her head as we kiss, repositioning it each time we kiss.

  Roxie is a firecracker. Strong. She’s not going to break, so I’m not going to shoulder that fear, or treat her like she’s fragile.

  After all I’ve survived, that’s a relief.

  My hands roam her body, unclasping her bra. She removes her shirt and flings the bra in the floor. My mouth waters. I lower my head, kissing my way down. Roxie moans as I kiss the swells of her breasts, and her hands fly to my head. She doesn’t try to guide me, just maintains the connection.

  I drag my tongue across on nipple, watching it draw up into a tight little peak for me. I try it on the other nipple.

  Roxie must see me calculating her body’s reactions. “The results appear to be the same, Doctor. I think additional experiments need to be conducted to prove that theory. Would you agree?”

  Holy shit. My very own naughty nurse fantasy, come to life.

  “I agree. I think it’s time for the patient to be examined.” I step back, getting into character. “Please disrobe and wait for me on the exam table.”

  She flashes me a wicked grin. “Yes, Doctor.” She pulls off her pants and panties in one motion. Her shoes are long gone, somewhere in the living room. She pulls back the cover and prowls up the bed on all fours.

  I watch her every move, fumbling to remove my clothes, hopefully without giving myself a second circumcision.

  She lays on her back.

  She lifts her arms, bending them to rest her head on her hands.

  She slowly draws her feet up the bed, bending her legs at the knees until her heels touch her ass.

  Then she drops her knees open.

  I could swear I hear a swell of an angelic chorus.

  I blink, dumbfounded. She gives a chuckle, and God is it sexy. Grin full of mischief, she says in a throaty voice, “They say blondes have more fun, but redheads always get it done.”

  This woman.

  I walk closer to the bed, reaching into my nightstand for the new bottle of lube I bought recently. I peel the plastic, making sure she knows I bought it just for her.

  “Thank you for following my instructions, Nurse. I hope you’re dedicated to your job, because I have a lot of experiments in mind.” I let her see how hot I think she is, popping my dimples. I am up to no good tonight.

  She reaches one hand toward me. I look at it and arch one eyebrow. She tucks her hand back behind her head.

  I spread some lube on my fingers and make my way onto the bed beside her. “Now where was I?” I murmur, licking the closest nipple as I lazily circle one lubed finger around her clit. “I should compare related reactions,” I say, sliding that finger inside her and letting my thumb circle her clit.

  I suck her nipple—hard.

  Her body clenches my finger so hard she almost breaks it. Her back arches, hips rising off the bed, but her hands stay put. I release her nipple to praise her. “Good girl,” I growl just before attacking the other nipple.

  I repeat the experiment until I’m confident of the results. Then I move to another experiment.

  The official results? She prefers my mouth and my fingers working together to produce her orgasm, rather than one or the other.

  I intend to repeat this experiment in different orders to ensure that doesn’t affect the results. The nurse has indicated her approval of my dedication to science.

  Not with words, since she seems incapable of those. I’ve melted her defenses. And maybe her brain.

  As much fun as all this is as part of foreplay—and God knows I’m grateful that she made this lighthearted, not to mention sexy as hell—I’m through playing games.

  I’m about to make love to my Roxie.

  I crawl up her body, kissing as I go. I’m in no hurry. “You can move your hands, darlin’. It’s just you and me now.”

  Her hands move to my head, stroking across my shoulders and down my back. Her hips move restlessly as she moans my name. “Yes, darlin’?” She’s almost incoherent with need. Damn good for my ego, too.

  “Clint,” she moans softly.

  “Yes, darlin’?” I repeat, grinning indulgently at her gorgeous body beneath me.

  “Please, please, pleeease,” she whisper-whines.

  I center my knees between her spread legs. As flattering as this mindless need is, that won’t do for our first time. I reach down and line myself up, rubbing the tip against her as I talk to her, calling her name until she blinks her eyes open. “Roxie, darlin’, are you with me?” She nods, a little more focused despite her hip pressing closer to mine. “I love you, my Roxie.” I lean on one elbow so I can stroke the side of her face.

  “I love you, Clint.” I can see her sincerity in her eyes. The more I see of this woman, the deeper I’m falling in love with her.

  I start to press further inside of Roxie’s wet heat, murmuring words of praise and telling her how much I love her.

  I may not have the recovery time of a twenty-something anymore, but the advantage of my age is that I’ve had plenty of time to practice control. So even though I’m tempted to let myself go off like a rocket on the first glide into her hot body, I clamp down on that shit.

  I feel her body starting to squeeze my dick, beginning to pulse. I’m pretty sure she’ll be too sensitive to go much longer. I hike one of her legs up on my arm.
I don’t feel any resistance in her muscles, but the last thing I want is to hurt her. “Roxie? This okay, darlin’?”

  “Mmmhmmm.” She smiles at me, eyes glazed, panting. My redheaded goddess.

  “You okay if we get a little rougher?”

  Her eyes almost roll back in her head as she moans her reply, dragging out the vowels. “God, yes!”

  I scoot my knees up under her hips a bit, lifting her and getting a little better leverage. Watching her reaction closely, I give a few thrusts, harder and deeper than before.

  She almost squeezes my dick off. And we’re good to go.

  I thrust harder and faster. Not having to worry, being able to let loose—it’s amazing. God, I feel so free.

  I keep going, feeling the orgasm build, but holding it back for the sheer joy of our connection. I don’t want this to end. Roxie reaches up and holds my face in her hands, eyes open and clear.

  As vocal as she has been all night, she suddenly gets quiet, gasping a deep breath as she starts to come in long, rolling waves. Tears prick her eyes as she stares at me and begins whispering, “Oh my God, Clint. I love you. I love you. I lo...” She stops mid-word, her entire body tightening, back arching, toes curling.

  I can’t hold back a moment longer. I feel like my soul tries to leave my body and join hers. That old saying about two becoming one? I think I understand what they were talking about now.

  I slump to the side, the leg I’m holding on top. I let go of the leg, only for her to wrap it tighter around my hip. We stay connected until we absolutely can’t any longer, kissing the whole time. Between kisses, we stare into each other’s eyes, hands stroking faces. Our movements eventually slow. Our eyes stay closed longer each blink. I tuck Roxie’s head into my shoulder and surrender to sleep.

  Chapter 10

  Roxie

  I slowly rise to from a deep, soul-cleansing sleep to awareness, sensing the morning light before my eyes open. Clint and I moved slightly apart during the night, generating so much heat we were soaked in sweat. I woke just enough in the middle of the night sometime to find his undershirt and drag it over my head.