Uncovering You 10: The Finale (26 page)

This time, no nightmares come.

The next day, I see Dr. Telfair for my injection.

“Thigh, or shoulder?” he asks me.

I pull my skirt up. “Thigh.”

He sterilizes the spot with an alcohol swab, and then uses a thin insulin needle to inject. I barely feel it at all.

“Not squeamish,” he observes.

I nearly laugh. “I’ve dealt with much worse,” I cover my leg. “What happens if I miss a dose, doctor? Do I go back to…” I trail off, unable to say the word.
‘…to insanity
.’ “To being…unstable?”

“Yes,” he says. “But not right away. We’re on a very aggressive dosing protocol. In time, I want to try weaning you off it, if you are willing.”

“What, like in full?” I ask.

“No, never in full, unfortunately.” He shakes his head. “Just less frequently. The side effects would be less pronounced, for one. That is the main benefit. You would be able to spend time in the sun.”

“That would be nice,” I admit.

“But it does not come without its share of risks,” Dr. Telfair tells me. “That’s why I want to stabilize you first. We need to establish baselines, as you know.”

“And how long will that take?”

“Ideally? At least three months. Three months of an equilibrium at one dosing protocol. And then three months at the next. We can keep going like that, for however long it takes, until we find your optimal dose.”

“What would that be?” I ask. “Because the way I see it, right now, if I don’t have the…” I swallow, “…the visions, then I am very happy.”

“It’s always a balance, Lilly,” Dr. Telfair says. “Photosensitivity is not the only side effect. It’s the most immediate one, to be sure, but it’s not the most worrisome.”

“There are more?” I ask. “Like what? Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Because I did not want you to worry. Stress is not conducive to a fast recovery.”

“Well, tell me now!” I insist.

“I intend to,” Dr. Telfair sits down across from me on the veranda. Clouds in the sky make it possible for me to be outside. And I like the fresh air.

“The drugs you were given while captive are very destructive, very dangerous things. Their mechanism of action is amongst the most complex I’ve ever come across. They exert effects on all types of different cellular tissue. They are not simply hallucinogens.

“In fact, in analyzing your brain waves, and your blood work…well, the thing I’m starting to worry about, Lilly, is a point in time when the injections will not be enough.”

Alarm ripples through me. “What do you mean?”

“The injections are not a panacea. Neither are they a cure. They simply mask the symptoms. For now—for the next couple of years—that will be enough. But looking at things from a long-term perspective?” The doctor sighs and rubs his eyes. “There will come a time when the injections will cease to work.”

“When?” I whisper.

“A conservative estimate? Ten, fifteen years. Still. I do not want awareness of that tainting your life. It is not an inevitability, Lilly. I am working to come up with a cure more permanent.”

“Can you do that?” I ask.

He nods solemnly. “I suspect that I can. It will not be immediate, though. But I recognize the metabolic pathway that a counter-drug would need to take to grant you that. There are some promising possibilities…”

“So let’s do it!” I interrupt. “I can’t—I can’t live knowing that the visions might recur. I can’t live in constant fear that what I’m seeing is not real.“

He reaches out and takes my hand. His grip is cold compared to Jeremy’s. I do not feel the wonderful tingle running up my arm.

“You don’t need to fear that, Lilly,” he says. “Not for a long time. I simply wanted you to be aware of the possibility of that in the future. For now, though?” He meets my eyes. “For now, weaning you off the injections as much as we can is the best counter-measure. It will give us—you—more time.”

“Okay,” I exhale. “Okay, I can do that.”

“Nothing you’re going through is easy, Lilly,” Dr. Telfair says. “None of my other patients have been put through anything even close to what you’ve had to endure. You have impressed me with your courage. It’s more than just a front. I can understand, now, I think, the strength that my brother says he sees in you.” He touches my shoulder. “If anybody can get through this, if anybody can overcome this, it’s you.”

“Thank you,” I reply.

He nods, smiles, and leaves me once more.

My recovery is slow. However, as the days turn to weeks, I can say with confidence that progress is being made.

I no longer need to sleep fourteen hours. I don’t feel like a zombie when I awaken. Somewhere around the three week, my libido starts to come back.

Jeremy’s never left. We take full advantage.

We start fucking like animals…the moment we wake up, the time in between breakfast and Dr. Telfair’s checkup. In the afternoons, outside in the fading glow of the sun. In the orchards. On the grass. In the fields. At night, in the spectacular bathtubs contained in the many rooms of this house.

I begin to really love the place. It’s calm. Peaceful. So tranquil. It feels almost like a dream. My worries about Jeremy growing restless without any outlets for his intellect—without Stonehart Industries—are unfounded. He takes great interest in everything his brother is doing with me. Soon, he is able to speak of things so proficiently that it’s almost like he’s the one who went to medical school.

In fact, there are times when I have to leave him and his twin alone as they engage in heated discussions about my health. I’m living it. So I have no great desire to join them.

I read then. I enjoy soothing music. I listen to krautrock and other eclectic sounds. Sometimes I just sit outside in the fresh air doing nothing at all, grateful to be alive.

Jeremy comes to join me on one of those nights. The evening sky is a deep red. The air is the perfect warmth. A recent streak of humidity has been dispelled. The evening feels perfect.

“Wine?” he offers.

“I thought your brother said I couldn’t drink,” I reply.

“Tonight is a special occasion.” Jeremy gives me one wide-rimmed glass. “It’s the one-month anniversary of my getting you back.”

I crane my head to one side. “Has it really been so long? It feels…” I yawn and stretch, content and comfortable. “…it feels like I only just arrived.”

“One month. The first of the rest of our lives.” Jeremy sits beside me and drapes a hand over my shoulder. I snuggle up close. “The hardest part is behind us.”

“Did Dr. Telfair really approve this?” I ask, looking at my wine glass. “I promised him I wouldn’t deviate…”

“He did,” Jeremy assures me. “It took some arm-twisting on my part. But I haven’t lost my talent for negotiations.” He winks. “I haven’t been gone from Stonehart Industries that long.”

I take a delicate sip. The vintage feels wonderful against my lips. As did Jeremy’s body this morning, his skin hot and flush with arousal, his muscles straining as he pushed in and out of me…

I get a sudden vision of myself on my knees before him, lips tight, hard cock…

“Lilly?” Jeremy looks down at me. “What’s going on? You’ve got that look in your eyes…”

I blush furiously and bite my lip. My body is strumming with need. He’s so tantalizingly close.

I decide to play it coy.

“What look?” I wonder.

“The I-want-to-get-fucked look,” Jeremy says. His voice has grown low and raspy. He stares into my eyes with his deep, impenetrable gaze. “Am I wrong?”

I smile at him through dark lashes. I put my wineglass down, on the ottoman on the opposite side of the couch, so that I have to reach across Jeremy’s lap to get there. I purr on the way back, running a sensual hand across his thigh, and stopping right over the crotch of his pants.

“You’re not wrong,” I tell him, my own voice low and sultry. “I want you, Jeremy. Right now.” I grab his thickening penis. “I want you right now.”

“Fuck me,” Jeremy growls. The next thing I know, I’m face up on the length of the seat, Jeremy pressed tight against me, his mouth sealing mine.

I moan into the kiss and grab his hips. I pull them into me, feeling the need for him to fill me to my very core. I’m wet immediately, and heaps turned on. As he kisses me, harsh and uncompromising, all I can think of is his cock deep inside me.

I fumble to strip him of his shirt. He breaks away from our connection to lift his arms up and let me do it. I smile, drunk on love, high on pleasure, as I run my hands over every flawless inch of his skin. My fingers trace over the ridges of his arm. I love the sensation of feeling those tiny oblique muscles move as he breathes.

He catches my hands with his own. They’re locked against my body—just like my eyes are locked with his.

“Your cheeks are flushed,” he tells me. “God, you look so sexy when you’re like that.” He glances over his shoulder at my barely-touched wine glass. “Somehow, I don’t think it’s the wine.”

“It’s all you,” I tell him. Then I snatch my hands out of his and grab him by his hair. “Now get down here and kiss me.”

He complies. But not without a little bit of resistance. “You know…” he says between heated kisses, “I…”
Kiss
. “…hate it…”
Kiss, kiss.
“…when you…”
Kiss, kiss, kiss
. “…try to take control during sex.”

“Oh?” I push his chest away and meet his stare head-on. “And what are you going to do about it, Mr. Stonehart?” I tease, my every word filled with soul-consuming lust. “Are you going to
punish
me? Make me feel your angry wrath?”

“Lilly…” Jeremy growls. His eyes have become huge black saucers, shining with unsuppressed desire. “Don’t test me.”

I take one of his nipples and pinch it, hard. His eyes widen, and then narrow. “Or what?” I ask him, innocently.

“Or else I’m going to fuck you so far into oblivion that you won’t be able to walk for days.”

My core clenches with the most desperate need. His dirty words do crazy things to me. “Good thing, then,” I all but hiss, “that I have no plans to walk anywhere any time soon.” I lift my other hand and trace the stubble on his cheek. “
Mr.
Stonehart.”

I yelp as Jeremy grabs me by the waist and lifts me onto him. Now I’m straddling him. He’s seated with his head propped against the outside wall.

“One chance, Lilly,” he tells me. “You only get one chance. Say you’re sorry, and tonight, I’ll let you lead.” His hands fall to my waist. His erection is hard and straining against his pants. I can feel it there, so very prominent, pressing up into me. I want nothing more than to rip his clothes off and let him lay waste to my body.

I start to gyrate my hips. He groans. “And if I refuse?”

“If you refuse…” Jeremy’s head falls back for a second in a deep sigh of particularly heady pleasure, “…if you refuse, I’m going to force you up against those French doors…make you stick your perky fucking ass out…and fuck you to make up for all the time we missed while we were apart.”

I roll my hips back and forth, teasing him through the fabric. “Is that a threat?” I ask, staring deep into his eyes.

“More like…a promise.” He groans again as I press particularly hard into him.

“A promise you’d better make good on,” I tell him, sticking my lower lip between my teeth. “But right now…” I lean down to him, letting his mouth explore my hanging breasts, “I think I’m going to take you up on your offer.” I place both hands on his shoulders and hiss in his ear. “Tonight I’m going to fuck
you
.”

He looks at me, not blinking once. “So get to it,” he commands.

My hands rush to pull out his belt and push his trousers off. His cock springs free through the fly of his boxers. Already, it’s raging with blood. One look at it is enough to make me lose all proprieties. I pull my panties to the side, straddling him, and sink onto his hot, thick length.

He and I both exhale in deep pleasure at the same time. I lower myself all the way, a little gasp escaping my lips as he fills me to the brim.

Then, I start to ride.

I ride him the way that I want. I control everything: the speed, the intimacy, the depth, and the duration of each sinful pulse. I thought I might go slow to luxuriate in the immense pleasure. But that is impossible. All control is stripped away as I let some sort of base animal instinct take over.