Everybody Falls (30 page)

"Paps got wind of her. They were waiting outside the store," Sarge explained. "But, most of it is on me, Dude."

"Stop," she mumbled from his chest, pushing away before grabbing a couple of the many bags in the bed of the truck. "I'll tell you later."

Jax let her go, grabbing finger-fulls of the plastic bags, taking them inside.

He and Sarge emptied the back of the truck before Sarge said, "I've got to hit it. See you, Jax."

The old man made his way to Lacey to hug her tightly, saying something soft and gentle from the look on his girl's face.

"Back at you, Girl," he rumbled before leaving.

"What was that about?" Jax asked tightly. Seemed like the old man was getting along a little too well with his Lace.

"Turns out, he's my grandpop," she said. Jax watched her body still, the words still hovering in the air between them.

"No shit?" he breathed.

"No, baby. He broke it down for me," she said, one hand clutching the back of a chair, the other on her mouth. She raised her eyes; eyes that were swimming in tears. "He and Lilly…"

"Oh, Baby," he groaned as he moved to her.

"God, what a cry baby, huh?" she said, raising her head from his chest.

"Nah, it's just been an emotional day," His voice was a gentle whisper. "Did you get what you needed?"

"Well, I still have some questions…" she began.

Jax chuckled, interrupting her.

"I meant at the store, Lace," he said.

She tilted her head up, her clear, bright frosted eyes stuck on his. "Yeah, honey, I did," she affirmed.

"The questions can wait. Let's get this stuff put away and then…"

"Then?" she asked.

"Yeah. Then," he breathed.

It was later. Much, much later with many moans, groans and cries filling the air before they were finally still. Lace was curled into him as they both tried to catch their breath.

"Your lip is bleeding again," she murmured as she ran her thumb over his bottom lip, bringing it up so he could see.

Yeah, he knew.

It'd happened off and on every time they partied naked together. Well, every time actually, except she'd only ever seen it twice. All the other times he'd hidden or caught it before she became aware of the blood from where he'd bit his lip.

All because of the words.

The words, nasty words, that crept up his throat. The dirty words and phrases he wanted to say to her as they worked each other's bodies. Words that he didn't think Lace would like, wouldn't find as hot as he did. Words that could eject him from her body and their shared bed.

So he bit them back both figuratively and physically.

She levered up on one elbow and reached across him for a tissue before beginning to blot at his lip.

"Is this still from when you fell?" she asked, her eyes on his mouth.

"Kind of," he said.

He felt her pull back as she looked at him.

"What does that mean?" she asked suspiciously.

"Ah. I like to talk, Lace," he said slowly.

He watched as she nodded.

"Uhm. Like, you know, when we're doing things. Together things," he said, trying to explain without really explaining.

Aw, shit. She was frowning now.

"I want to talk dirty, Baby," he blurted finally, feeling the heat in his face. "When I'm touching you, when I'm in you. I can't help it, so I bite my lip to prevent those words from coming out."

Her face smoothed out before he watched her blue crystal eyes go wide.

Then, she smiled.

He heard her giggles start, building until she flopped over onto her back, her laughter deep and loud.

"What?" he said, following her body moves, finding absolutely nothing funny about what he'd said.

"So you hurt yourself so you don't use words that you find 'nasty'?" she asked when she'd finally calmed down enough to talk.

"Well, yeah," he admitted.

"Do those words make you hot, Jack?" she inquired, eyebrows wiggling as she smiled.

"Uh-huh," he said slowly.

"Don't you think they'd make me hot, too?" she invited, tilting her face up to his.

"Uhm…" he mumbled.

"Words like, for example, pussy? Or cock? Maybe wet, hard, or swollen?" Her delicious voice speaking lower and slower. "Or is it the verbs, honey? Stroking, rubbing, moistening, sucking, creaming, cuming and the like?"

"Ah…" he moaned, moving up and onto her, the words coming out of her mouth creating an instantaneous reaction within him.

"Or do you like other words. Such as teased, licked, squeezed, thrusted, nibbled, tormented. Oh, tormented is a good one. Or, maybe even, juicy. "

"Shit, Lace," he gasped, his face in her neck, his hands reaching, groping for her naked skin. "Please, Baby."

"What, Jax?" she breathed as she gave him further access to her neck. "Please what?"

"Give me your tight, creamy pussy, Lacey," he implored as he reached for a condom. "I want…"

"You want what?" she repeated. He felt her hands on his shoulders as her long, smooth legs moved up to hook at the small of his back.

"I need…" he began to say again, but he couldn't think, open the foil wrapper and talk at the same time. God, what she was saying, along with how her body felt beneath him, was driving him fucking crazy.

"You need what?" she groaned as she dragged her wet slit over his hardness as he fumbled.

"Are you aching for me, Jack? Don't you want to ease your throbbing cock into my tight, swollen…"

"God, Lace! Christ, give me a minute," he cried, twisting and yanking at the tab on the wrapper, fucking frantic to get it open.

She snatched the small square from his hands and used her teeth again to release it. She reached between them as she rolled it on. He couldn't help his sharp gasp at the feel of her fingers on him.

"Do you need me to tell you how much I want you or can you tell from just how wet I am?" she whispered in his ear, holding him tightly pointed at her entrance as her hips circled, teasing. "Slide into me, Jack. Give it to me."

Oh, fuck.

This wasn't the dirty talk that he liked so much from the porn flicks. God, no. This was a thousand times better.

Her words flowed in between her gasps, her moans building a fire between them that he couldn't believe and didn't want to stop. She used words that were so much better than any he'd thought to himself when he'd bitten his lips; to keep himself from saying.

"Aw, God, Lace," he groaned as he sank himself into her.

"C'mon, Jack, you can do better than that," she encouraged. "Tell me how it feels to have my hot, dripping sex gripping your firm…"

"Lace, I'm gonna come if you keep talking like that," he warned, breathless.

He pressed up on an arm, irresistibly drawn to watch what their bodies were doing.

"You like watching us, don't you?" she breathed, catching his eyes as they moved back up to her face. "How we fit as you move in and out of me?"

"God, yes," he muttered, feeling that searing wonderful pressure building in his lower back.

"What if I touched myself, if I worked my clit? Do you like that too, Jack?" she asked with a slow smile. He saw her eyes become unfocused before he glanced down to see her finger working her swollen bud.

"Fuck, Lace. God, that's hot," he groaned, his skin prickling as the sharp darts of pleasure shot through him. "I'm gonna…"

"Oh, yeah. Me, too," he heard her whimper, her head thrown back.

Together, they slammed into it, milliseconds behind one another, backs arched and throats open as he pulsed, as she clenched, in their mutual rapture.

Chapter 25

"… then you'll be admitted when they're done with the tests," the cardiologist, a Dr. Lindstrom, was a doctor that liked to talk. "Any questions?"

My mind was racing. He may've liked to talk, yet he talked so much, so fast it was hard for my brain to process, much less accept, what he was saying.

"No," I heard Edie say from the chair next to mine. We were in his office and he was explaining that more tests were needed, to be completed at the hospital. If I'd heard him right, he'd said that Edie needed to be admitted as well.

"I'm sorry?" the doctor said, his body stilling, Edie's thick file spread open before him on the large ornate desk.

"No. I'm not going into the hospital," Edie said firmly, lifting her chin.

"But, Mrs. Dennison," the doctor began, though she cut him off.

"I've been listening to you for the last ten minutes. It's your turn to listen to me now," Edie announced, straightening her tiny form in the hard chair. I saw she had a white-knuckled grip on the clasp of her purse.

I wanted to calm her, to let her know she had my support. So, I did what I'd seen Jack do.

I reached, so that my hand covered hers.

She took a deep breath before she began to speak.

"I know I'm dying. You've been telling me that for what? Four years? My heart is giving out. Now it looks like my body is, too. If that's the case, I'm not going to die in a hospital."

She glanced at me before I felt her fingers flex under mine.

"I know you mean well, doc. Truthfully, I'd rather die at home. When it happens, I'd rather be on the farm, okay?" She finished, but her voice was shaky and I got the impression she was holding her tears back.

"Well, I guess we could see about some homecare, getting some nurses in to help. Mrs. Dennison? You'll need an IV. Your meds will have to be adjusted again," Dr. Lindstrom explained kindly.

That was my cue according to the instructions Jack had given me this morning before we'd left for the appointment.

"Here's a list of the pills she's already taking," I said, unfolding the sheet of printed paper.

I watched as the doctor read the list.

"These will change. They'll now be delivered through your IV," he mumbled as he read. "Your nurses will report in and we'll make changes as needed but we'll keep you aware of them as we do."

He sat the paper down before he steepled his fingers underneath his chin. "I'd still like you to take the tests, though."

"What are they going to tell you?" Edie challenged, yet her voice was soft. "Will they tell you anymore than what we already know?"

I saw his eyes go back to her chart before I saw him slowly shake his head.

"Well, there you go," Edie continued on that same soft note and I was sure that the old woman was trying to comfort the much younger man with her words, her tone. This sassy yet compassionate gal was making an effort to give him, a degreed man of healing, of science, peace in spite of what she was facing.

It was that same caring, that same concern that I saw in Jack. Taking care of others before themselves. I found myself trying to swallow around the lump in my throat.

"When will the nurses start?" I asked, breaking into the soft silence that had filled the room as Grams and the doctor shared a long look.

The conversation continued with the details, the minutiae of having Edie moved to homecare.

"We've gotta talk, Lace," Edie said as I helped her up into the truck.

She'd originally argued about taking it, wanting the Corvette instead saying it was lower to the ground and would be easier to get in and out of. You can be sure I wasn't comfortable with even the
thought
of driving a 1960 Corvette Stingray, with all its original parts, in perfect, primo condition. It goes without saying, that the 1972 Cadillac was completely out of the question since it was just too freaking big to be believed. It'd be like driving a damn boat.

Finally, I went back inside the house, brought out the folding stool from its place next to the fridge and slid it to her, then stowed it behind the seats of the old truck after she'd stepped carefully up.

My actions had brought a smile which I caught when she'd buckled her seatbelt.

Now, though, she was staring at her set of wedding rings when I finally piled into the truck after I'd stowed the stool for our ride back to the farmhouse.

"I need you to promise me something, Lace," she said finally after I'd engaged the ignition.

"Uhm…as long as it doesn't involve lying to Jack," I warned. I tried to think of what she was going to make me promise.

I take promises seriously. Very seriously. Back in the day, a person's word used to carry weight and seemed to be more binding than a signed contract. Not so much anymore to a lot of people. Yet, I'd always wanted my words,
my
promises, to be that obligatory, to be my firm commitment.

To be my
word
.

"No lying. No," she said firmly, her head pointed towards the passenger window. "Stay with him, Lacey. I don't care if it's as a wife, a lover or just a friend. Promise me you'll look out for my Jax."

There was no help for it. I directed the old truck into a driveway of some retail place, shooting the gearshift into park before I promptly burst into tears, reaching for her.