Billion Dollar Mistake by K.C. Crowne

Chapter 22

SAWYER

An hour later I was seated in the kitchen, a supreme pizza on the bar in front of me along with a glass of soda.

“You sure I can’t have a glass of wine?” I asked, my eyes flicking to the rack of bottles on the other side of the kitchen.

“You’re at about eighty

percent blood capacity, bud. You have a glass of wine and it’s going to hit you like a truck, not to mention thin it more than you need.” She flashed me a sly smile, her eyes going for a moment down to the bandaged wound on my hand, as if she wanted to make sure it was still OK.

“Maybe that’s what I want,” I said with a grin before plopping a slice of pizza onto my plate with my good hand.

She didn’t laugh. Instead, her expression turned grim as she sat down next to me at the bar.

“You should’ve told me about this, Sawyer. If I’m going to be living with you, I need to know these sorts of things. And not just because of your safety – can you imagine what would happen if your dad were to mention your hemophilia and I was dumbfounded by it?”

She had a point. It’d been really stupid of me not to mention it.

“Sorry,” I said. “You’re right. It’s just that it’s…well, it’s embarrassing. I have this condition that makes me fragile as a piece of China and it’s not something I like to go around shouting from the hills, you know?”

“It’s not a weakness Sawyer, it’s a legit medical condition. What if you’d given yourself more than a flesh wound? I’m a doctor, Sawyer. I could’ve been more prepared when I saw all that blood. Not to mention when I stepped into the kitchen it looked like a damn crime scene.” A faraway look appeared in her eyes, and I could sense that she had something else on her mind for a moment.

She shook her head and brought her eyes back to mine.

“I know, I know. It was stupid and selfish of me not to tell you about my condition. But truth be told, I don’t like thinking about it. I hate thinking about it, honestly. I hate knowing that I have this problem that makes me different from other people, that makes me dependent on pills and doctors and weird glue.” I held up my hand, the glue having done its job of sealing the cut.

I went on. It was strange. I normally hated talking about subjects like this, but there was something about Jolene, something about the way she looked at me with concern in her eyes, that made me feel OK letting it all out.

“Twice in my life I’ve been near death because of this condition. But it’s also how I lost my mom.”

She tilted her head to the side.

“What do you mean?”

“This condition…I got it from her. And it’s how I lost her. A few years back she was in a car accident, and we lost her because she bled out before help could get to her.”

The words fell out of my mouth. At first, I was ashamed for dumping them all on her, like I’d said too much too soon. Nothing about the way she regarded me suggested that was how she felt. Instead, she kept her hand on my leg and continued listening.

I continued.

“So, it’s like…if I can pretend that I don’t have this condition, then I don’t have to think about any of that. I can live my life and not have to worry about being different or fucking fragile.”

“Maybe this is the doctor in me,” she said. “But you don’t get that luxury. And I’d bet you anything that your dad wouldn’t be happy to hear that you’re putting your life at risk like this.”

“Oh, I know. The old man would kick my ass if he heard that I was blowing off Zander’s advice and not taking my meds. But…I don’t know. You being here makes it different. This marriage is fake, sure, but it’s nice that someone’s here who cares enough to make sure I take care of myself.”

She smiled. “Get used to it. Tomorrow I’m making sure you call Zander and have a fresh bottle of meds by the end of the workday. And if I need to sit your ass down and put the pills in applesauce like you’re a five-year-old and do the airplane thing too, then that’s what we’re going to do.”

I laughed. “Thanks. And thanks for listening to me vent about this.”

“Happy to do it.”

Silence filled the air, the two of us sitting and staring into one another’s eyes. In that moment I was reminded of our first morning together here, when we’d been in the kitchen and come so close to kissing.

This time, I didn’t want to hold back.

I placed my bandaged hand on the counter next to her and leaned in, our eyes locked, our bodies moving closer and closer, her lips parting invitingly.

The moment our lips touched I realized it had been too damn long. I’d wanted her, needed her like crazy. Pretending during these last few weeks that I didn’t was one of the hardest things I’d ever done.

As we kissed, our mouths opening and our tongues finding one another’s, the wait was over. I placed my hands on her hips and pulled her close, slowly weaving my bandaged hand into her hair. My cock stiffened, straining against my jeans. My hand moved to her inner thigh, squeezing the soft flesh gently through her work slacks, a sigh from her mouth pouring over my lips.

“We need to get to the bedroom,” I said through the kiss. “Now.”

She sat back a bit, giving the matter some thought.

“It’s a bad idea,” she said.

“Could be…then again, we are married. Might as well consummate it.”

That brought a smile to her lips, followed by her putting her hand on my shoulder and shoving me gently.

“I swear, you know just what to say to make me want to kiss you and smack you both at the same time.”

“One of my many talents.”

She bit her lower lip indecisively, which only made me even more attracted to her. Then, without another word, she took me by my good hand and led me out of the chair. Together we went up the stairs to her bedroom.

“Figure we should use the one that doesn’t have blood in it,” she said with a smile.

“Good thinking.”

We were all over one another from the instant we stepped over the threshold. We kissed like mad, our hands grabbing each other through our clothes as we stripped one another down. I had to be careful with my left hand, however – the wound still hurt a bit.

Soon we were down to nothing but our underwear, Jolene’s body impossibly sexy in nothing but a matching pair of white, lacy bra and panties. If there had been any doubt I wanted her, the sight of her nearly naked before me was more than enough to push those doubts far out of my mind.

I placed my hand on the small of her back, lifting her off her feet and carrying her over to the bed. Gently, I set her down, her gorgeous hair splayed out around her head, her body silver in the moonlight that poured in through the windows.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” The words came out of my mouth almost without control. It was odd. I was normally never so open with women like that. I might tell them they were hot or whatever, but never anything as straightforward as beautiful.

She smiled warmly, the compliment evidently having the desired effect.

“You’re not so bad yourself, handsome. Now, get over here.”

She didn’t need to tell me twice. I slid on top of her, our bodies pressing against one another’s as we kissed harder and harder. We stripped one another out of what was left of our clothes, soon naked and under the sheets. Her body was warm and soft and perfect against mine, and I was so turned on that I wanted to skip the foreplay and be inside of her as soon as possible.

Judging by the way she grabbed hold of my cock and placed my head between her lips, I could tell she felt the same way. Once I was in position, I pushed into her, her wet, tight walls stretching out around me, gripping me tight.

She moaned as I plunged deeper, closing her eyes in total pleasure, her mouth opening slightly as she tilted her head and arched her back. I pulled back and pushed into her, moving in and out until I brought her to a deep, powerful orgasm.

It was the first of many more I planned to give her.