Read Compassion Online

Authors: Xavier Neal

Compassion (14 page)

 

Fuck. It might be.

 

Languorously my tongue whirls around hers, the taste of chocolate littering every lap. Her body grinds against mine eventually parting her legs as if offering an invitation. The idea of that alone is enough to strip me of all my inhibitions. Realizing it, I begin to pull back when she grabs me by the shirt forcing my mouth to consume her even rougher. Unable to keep my other arm from joining the escalating situation, I slide it down her other thigh, the feeling of her sensitive bare flesh enough to make me blow a load.

 

God, help me not embarrass myself.

 

Jaye melts into my touches, her whimpers sounding more like delicious prayers dedicated to a deity. Before I have a chance to back down again, the kiss escalates another level, tongues crying out for a contender in the battle of control. My hands suddenly tug at her shorts pleading for permission to move further. It's immediately granted when she arches against me. Our lips lightly linger as my hand slides underneath the barrier. Stunned at the soft, smooth surprise, a low savage growl seeps out. Jaye gasps when my finger brushes her clit, yet cries out during the invasion into the soaking wet heaven. Her head dips backwards, another breathless moan pulling me into the pit of elation that I know will be the inevitable death of me.

 

Can't actually imagine a better death at the moment.

 

Slowly I add a finger, lower my lips to her ear, and whisper, “I don't think I can stop.”

 

She moans, “Then don't.”

 

Her encouragement reaches my fingers before my brain. They rock in and out as her body curls into the motions, clearly craving more of my touch. I fight the urge to bury my face in her neck knowing I don't wanna miss a single sexual offering being submitted to me. My palm presses firmly against her clit, which causes Jaye's hand to clutch my shirt again. It feels like the thin fabric is the only thing stopping her from tumbling over the edge of ecstasy.

 

The feeling of her pussy clenching around my fingers warns me she's seconds from giving me the thing I've been hungriest for.

 

“Let me see you come, Jaye,” I demand, increasing the speed.

 

Without trying to hold her orgasm at bay, she explodes on a sharp cry, shooting upward until I pull her beautiful body back wanting the waves of her euphoria to rip through me. Riding the high alongside her, I use the little willpower I have left in me to keep my cock from following her example and coming.

 

I watch Jaye struggle to catch her breath while I carefully remove my fingers. The sight of her hair ruffled, her face overheated, her lips parted, and her eyes unable to open has my mind working in overdrive on how to get her naked so I can get inside.

 

My lips brush her ear once more. “Please tell me you want me to do that again...”

 

She whimpers, her body limp in my arms. “I don't know that I can handle that again.”

 

Hearing her confession causes my cock to harden past the point of no return.

 

Masturbating again is gonna feel like some sort of new age hell.

 

“But I damn sure wanna try.”

 

The words grab another vehement grumble out of me.

 

Fuck. Can I survive another round of watching her come without my cock inside? Like she said...I damn sure wanna try.

 

Archer

 

Pulling up to the stop light, Jaye shoots me a small smile.

 

Over the last couple weeks we've spent a few nights on the couch, making out and exploring how perfect it sounds when she comes. I haven't let her touch me yet. Part of the reason is because I don't know the last time I was checked out. I don't even remember the last time I had sex, but I do know the last thing I want is for her to catch something from me. That would be fucked up right? She gives me the gift of a second chance at life and I take hers away? Nope.

 

“You okay?” She asks accelerating. “You've been a little quiet today.”

 

“I'm fine,” I lie. “You sure you have time for this?”

 

“It's cool,” Jaye assures, switching lanes. “I'm just taking an extended lunch break. It's really not a problem.”

 

“But the price of this is.”

 

“Archer-”

 

“I haven't had medical bills in a few years but I remember they aren't cheap. Especially without insurance. Maybe we should just wait until I've got a job...”

 

Which at this fucking rate will happen right on the edge of never. It's been fucking weeks of endless trying. I've gotten two phone interviews, but no offers. I've followed up with a few, only to be politely told they wouldn't ever hire someone like me. People are assholes. No offense.

 

Tugging at my seat belt I grouse, “Though that'll probably never fucking happen.”

 

“Don't say that.”

 

“What the fuck else should I say, Jaye? No one wants to hire a deadbeat, homeless asshole who hasn't worked in years. Who fucking limps and has uncontrollable PTSD. I'm far from a perfect hire. I wouldn't even fucking hire me.”

 

“Then you'd be a jackass and totally miss out on how amazing you are.” Hearing her have so much confidence in me angles my face towards her. “I know it's hard for you to see but you've got a lot to offer. You're handy. You're intelligent. You're dedicated. Focused. You have many assets employers look for. Just because you've heard a few no’s-”

 

“A few?”

 

“...doesn't mean it's time to throw in the towel. It just means the right job hasn't come for you yet.”

 

Impressed at her optimism even if it is a crock of shit, I nod.

 

She pulls into a parking space. “Now, do you want me to wait in the lobby or go in with you?”

 

“We don't have to do this,” I revamp the original discussion. “These things and tests are fucking expensive. It's bad enough you're feeding, clothing, and housing two of us. You don’t need any added expenses.”

 

Jaye kills the engine before she turns to face me. “Please, stop worrying about money.”

 

Quickly I bite, “How can I not?”

 

“Just don't.”

 

“I know you make
decent
money at the preschool-”

 

“I make great money-”

 

“But there's no need to fucking squander your savings account trying to take care of me!” Raising my voice I continue to complain, “This was a terrible fucking idea! You don't need an added money sucking leech like me! You should be saving that money for...your future children or retirement or some shit.”

 

“Stop it,” she snips. “Stop telling me how or what I should be doing with my money.”

 

“But-”

 

“Shut up, Archer.” Hearing the irk in her voice shuts my mouth. “When Chris died he left me everything and I do mean
everything
. He left me the majority of the shares in his company. All his investments. His savings. Anything and everything he had was given to me including the trust fund his parents had planned to give him when they died. I sold my shares to Chris' partner and that alone is enough to keep my property taxes and all other bills house related paid for at least 50 years if not longer. I can afford to take you to a doctor to make sure you're healthy, to help you get healthier, what I can
not
afford is for you to tell me what to do!” Disbelief at her standing her own ground in a new way shoots my eyebrows up. “For once in my life I'm learning to make my own choices and do the things I think make me happy, so stop fighting with me, get out of the car and lets get your ass inside to see Dr. Ray.”

 

I don't argue.

 

Damn sure didn't see that coming. Is it wrong I think it's sexy when she's assertive? On a more important note, I'm glad she's finally starting to do what she wants. Not just now either, but all the time. She's been considering her feelings and desires first before suggesting something or agreeing to a compromise. It's nice to see she's putting her life back together even if I'm not.

 

The two us get out of her car and head inside the private doctor's office. Together we check in at the desk and are ushered to have a seat in the waiting room. We have a seat in the corner of the empty area, my eyes wandering around at the serene blue color it's painted.

 

Clashes with the wood floors if you ask me.

 

Leaning against the edge of the dark blue leather couch, I admire the fish mural on the wall, curious who finds that soothing.

 

Never been a fish man.

 

“Yes,” I softly say to Jaye. When her brown eyes meet mine in question, I repeat, “Yes. I want you to come in with me.”

 

Relief floods her eyes. “You sure?”

 

While keeping our eyes connected, I relocate my hand so it folds with hers. Not feeling the need to verbally add anything else, I give the back of her hand a gentle kiss. Instantly the smile I adore slips onto Jaye's face.

 

Fucking most fortunate man alive. I don't know if this is karma's way of trying to give back after fucking me in the ass for years or what, but I'll consider forgiveness towards whatever higher power brought this angel into my life. At night when my mind starts to dive into the depths of depression thinking about Micah and Seth, I picture their reaction to meeting her. How Seth's wife Brenda would love her. How they'd get along easily. It helps more than you would think.

 

“Archer,” a red headed nurse calls out. “Archer Cox?”

 

Jaye and I stand in unison, her leading the way.

 

Can't say I fucking like nurses or doctors. After the surgeries, being poked and prodded, not to mention the fucking therapists I've met, let's just say they aren't on the top of the list of things I like. Not even in the naughty costume sense.

 

“I'm one of the nurses Danielle,” she introduces herself. “This is your first time here?” After I nod she continues, “We're just going to do a few routine things before I get you in to see Dr. Ray. Alright?”

 

I nod again.

 

Nurse Danielle checks my height, weight, and asks me a few questions, which transport me back to a different time in my life. Each invasion of privacy toys with my memory, tugging me back towards the things I've been determined to bury.

 

Seth hated having to go through med checks. Almost more than me. He had an irrational fear of needles. You can tell from my tattoos I didn't share that feeling. Micah on the other hand was the only guy I ever met who could turn checking his vitals into foreplay.

 

“Okay,” she hums, clutching her tablet to her chest. “Dr. Ray will be in in just a minute. She's just finishing up with another patient. Please go ahead and remove your clothes down to your boxers or completely and put on the gown.”

 

“Thank you,” Jaye politely says.

 

The minute the door shuts, I stand as I ask, “Did she say she?”

 

“She did.”

 

Ripping off my shirt I question, “My doctor's a woman?”

 

“Is that a problem?”

 

Turning to cough while a woman cups my junk isn't really how I pictured my side of my sex life jump starting.

 

“Nope. Just clarifying.”

 

She slowly wets her lips, her eyes scanning the outline of the muscles I've managed to tone back up
over
for
the last few weeks between the trips to the gym and renovating the house.

 

Not a good time to pop a boner.

 

Jaye tries to shake away whatever thoughts are roaming through her mind. “You sure that's not an issue?”

 

“You trust her?”

 

“Of course I do.” I shed my shoes and drop my pants, which forces Jaye's eyes to paste themselves in mine. “She's an old friend of the family. Her and my mother went to med school together. Eventually she started her own private practice, offered my mother a job, but she turned it down. My mom was already a part of a highly established one at the time. She's a fantastic doctor. Hell, she's my doctor. I wouldn't take you to just anyone.”

 

“No?”

 

“Of course not. I care too much about you. You know that.”

 

Leaning forward I beckon her to come closer with my finger. As soon as she's within touching distance, I slide my hands around her waist, cradling her close to me. “Do you know I care about you too?”

 

Jaye drags a finger down my jawbone. “I do now.”

 

Her forehead falls against mine. I shut my eyes and for a moment allow myself to be completely submerged in the warmness she radiates effortlessly.

 

I never wanna let her go.

 

There's a knock on the door and Jaye takes a step out of my arms.

 

A pale, perky face peers around the door. “You ready?”

 

With a shrug I answer, “Guess so.”

 

She enters the room and extends her hand at me. “I'm Dr. Gracie Ray. You must be Archer Cox.” After releasing my hand, she states, “Just here for a routine check-up?”

 

Prepared to say yes, I catch myself before it's out of my mouth. My eyes catch a glimpse of Jaye, the best and gentlest reminder that I need to face all grim portions of my reality. That I have to stop hiding even if that's the last thing I want to.

 

If Jaye can start to find her way, why can't I?

 

“I need to get myself checked for STDs.” Awkwardly I scratch the back of my neck. “It's been awhile and I just want to make sure everything is clear.”

 

Dr. Ray nods at me and makes a note. “Anything else?”

 

“I um...” Shoving down the expanding knot in my throat, I acknowledge my problem, “I suffer from PTSD...”

 

This is the first time outside of Jaye I've admitted that out loud since the system fucked me over. Can't say it feels great. Can't say it's as awful as I thought it would be. Either way it doesn't matter. If Jaye can move her life forward then I have to at least try. I can't give her diamonds or vacations to the tropics, but I can do this for her. I can take these steps towards a better life. I can be a better man for her. For me. For us...

 

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