"It's the hospital gown, isn't it? The way the pale color leeches all the pigment out of my skin and how the sack-like shape and gap in the back show off my ass. It makes me irresistible."
Marcus came and sat on the bed, bracing his ankle on his opposite knee. Thomas's hand fell naturally on his thigh and their fingers laced. "Your mom should be here soon with Rory," Marcus said.
"Yeah, he'll take any opportunity to drive, now that he has the hand-controlled van. I told you that we should have called them afterwards, or just waited and brought it up at Easter dinner. 'Hey, I did two gallery showings and we visited Monterey. Here are the pictures. Oh, and by the way, I donated a kidney to Julie's soulmate.'"
Marcus arched a brow. "Under normal circumstances, I have zero fear of your mother. Telling her we didn't give her so much as a heads up before they put you on a table, cut you open and took a major organ out..."
He cut himself off when a mortifying and terrifyingly strong wave of emotion hit him. He was squeezing Thomas's hand so hard he was likely going to break it. "I shouldn't be here."
"You have to be here. I need you. It's in the marriage rule book." Thomas wouldn't let him pull away. "Do me a favor. Hold me in that way you do really well, that convinces us both everything's fine."
Actually that was the feeling Marcus got when Thomas was holding him, but since he was supposed to be the alpha and Master here, he had enough pride not to say it. Though from Thomas's knowing look, Marcus figured he already knew it. But he did wrap his arms around Thomas. His pet sat up so it wasn't like Marcus was lying in his arms like some swooning heroine. He knew this helped Thomas as much as it helped him. That was what the whole marriage deal was about, too.
Thomas let out a sigh and relaxed against him as Marcus threaded his fingers through the curls at his nape and tugged. Then he trailed them past the tie of the gown and stroked the bare line of his spine.
"It's going to suck, being out of commission on the sex side of things for a while," Thomas said.
"As long as you can get on your knees and give me blow jobs, I'm good with it."
"Asshole." Thomas put his lips against Marcus's neck and bit lightly, but it sent a bolt of response into dark, savage places Marcus knew were too close to the surface. His farm boy was fanning the flames. "Let's get in a quick fuck before this all goes down."
Marcus chuckled, though his fingers dug into Thomas's back muscles as his submissive's lips and tongue dragged over his carotid. Marcus had fucked him endlessly last night and, though he hadn't always been gentle, he'd been thorough.
"You are pushing it," Marcus muttered, drawing his head back. He gave Thomas a warning look, though the moist look of Thomas's lips was way too distracting. He attempted a casual tone.
"If I entertain that idea for even a millisecond, that's when your mother and Rory would come in. Your mother would have a heart attack and Rory would swear we'd burned out his retinas."
Still, Marcus slid his hand under the covers, under that blissfully loose gown, and closed his hand around his sub, his slave, his heart and soul.
His gaze flicked up. He knew Thomas had only been half teasing, but it was still a surprise to find him fully erect. Thomas gave him a strained smile. "You should have seen yourself while the nurse was prepping me. Face all stern, you leaning against the wall with your arms crossed over your chest. You're wearing jeans today and you didn't shave this morning, giving you that rougher, more dangerous look."
When Thomas nipped his neck again, Marcus found his footing. Using a grip on his hair to pull him away, Marcus pushed him to his back, reinforcing the motion with a harsh command. "Stay down."
Thomas's eyes widened and flicked to the closed door, but he'd started this and Marcus would finish it. He had ears like a cat's. Plus this wasn't going to take long.
He raked up Thomas's gown and bent over him as Thomas sucked in a breath. "Marcus."
"Just lie there and take it. You're mine to do whenever I want, right?"
Thomas nodded, his jaw tight, long fingers clutching the covers. Marcus put his mouth over him, went down on that hard, rigid organ that pulsed under his tongue and lips. He knew this body better than his own, knew Thomas deep down was a little worried, a little scared, as anyone would be. His Master could make sure he knew it was all right, no matter how bone deep terrified Marcus was of losing him, of something going wrong. This act, meaning so much more than just mouth, hand, cock and orgasm, could calm things for both of them.
Those who thought going down on a man was a submissive act had never done it this way. Ordering the man in question to be still as he held all control and took away rational thought with the strong suction of his mouth, the clever dance of his tongue, the sweet, sucking sound that escaped his lips--it was like crack to a Dominant. Marcus flicked his gaze up to see Thomas helpless and shaking, lips parted and eyes half closed. Marcus slid his fingers around to Thomas's fine ass, dug into the muscular cheeks to push him harder into his mouth. He knew Thomas's triggers, playing around the edge of the corona, tickling, licking and stimulating under the ridge, feeling the vein pulse and bunch beneath the pressure of his lips.
"Marcus..."
"Not my fucking name," Marcus growled against him. "Not right now."
"Master." Thomas's hand dropped to his head, to tangle in Marcus's hair and Marcus allowed it, because they both needed the closed circuit of contact for this current to build and achieve the desired effect.
"Now," he said against him, and his pet surged up like a taut bow, as obedient and wild as Marcus could wish. He released into Marcus's mouth and he swallowed him down, sucking and stroking, gripping him with his hand, wanting to give him the best damn blow job he'd ever had in his life. If the worst happened and Thomas woke up on the other side, Marcus wanted his reaction to all the pleasure of Heaven to be a shrug and one three-word statement:
"I've had better."
Yeah, one of these days lightning was going to hit him. Though right now, feeling hard as a rock and quivering inside as much as Thomas was outside, Marcus felt as though it had.
Marcus shifted off him, but stayed leaning over his body. He had his sub's gown rucked up so he could fondle his cock and balls, make him twitch and jerk because he was so sensitive. Thomas grimaced, knowing his Master was doing it on purpose, but he didn't try to get away. He just did those little quivers, his brown eyes alive with fire and fastened on Marcus's face. "I should do something for you."
"Yes, you should. But you'll do it later. An IOU I fully intend to collect." Marcus bent and pressed a kiss to Thomas's upper thigh, then found himself staying there, his cheek to the muscled flesh as he slid his arms around Thomas's ass, thighs and waist to hold him firmly against him.
"My sticky cock is going to get stuck in your beautiful hair."
"Won't that be a picture for the nurse?"
Thomas stroked his hair, moving it away from the area of danger. Marcus could feel the care and caress in his touch. His pet's breathing was deep, erratic, his thundering heart trying to return to a resting rate. His femoral artery pulsed beneath Marcus's cheek.
"Remind me again why we're doing this?" he spoke against Thomas.
"Because we love Julie, and because this guy is family. And because it's the right thing to do."
"Yeah. Bollocks on all of that. I love you, Thomas. You're the good one of the two of us. You're going to be fine, because you know I'm Satan, and if anything goes wrong I'm going to unleash a plague on the world."
"Bollocks right back," Thomas responded mildly, as Marcus released him to prop on one hand and look at him. "You're a good man and you always have been. You take care of your family, and that's been a shifting definition all your life, to anyone who needs you. Me, Julie and my family, which is now your family."
"No matter what Rory says," Marcus added, his standard quip. He paused. "Do you believe it, what you said earlier? That Des is the right one?"
"I think so. You've seen her with other guys. I never really had the chance t
o do that, but this feels different from what I heard about her other relationships. Real and deep. They have a good shot."
"Yeah."
Thomas trailed his fingers through Marcus's hair, those clever digits that created masterpieces. "I worry about her, though. After waiting so long for someone who will treat her right, she could lose him."
"Yeah, she could. But she's already figured out it's better than not having had that gift. She'll embrace it a hundred and twenty percent because of that."
"Her change of heart surprised me at first," Thomas admitted. "I was pretty sure she'd accepted being alone, and had moved relationships lower on her priority list. Her life is so full. Complete. You know how she is. Good friends, good life, and she positively glows when it comes to the theater and the career she built there. I expected her to struggle more with whether or not it's worth it to get herself tangled up with someone."
"No you didn't." Marcus caressed Thomas's abdomen, lips curving as he squirmed when he hit a ticklish spot. "You know Julie has wanted to be deeply, totally in love with the man of her dreams all her life. Even if she'd convinced herself she'd given up on that, it happens when it's going to happen, and you don't get a choice. It's like planning to adopt a Yorkshire Terrier and coming home with a St. Bernard. Love chooses you, and Julie's natural state is to love or be loved. And she's got a moderate sub side, so..."
"She has no choice but to adopt Des and let him sleep on her bed."
"Wasn't that the way it worked for us, pet? I saw this scruffy-looking, starved artist and I had to bring him home."
"If I remember, you did let me sleep in your bed, from that very first night."
"Well, you begged, with those soulful brown eyes."
"Softy. Oh, fuck, I hear my mother's shoes. Get off the bed so I can pull my gown down."
To Marcus's amusement, they scrambled like a couple of guilty teenagers putting things to right. He nearly vaulted back to his position against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. A quick glance said the erection he was nursing had subsided enough to miss notice, though the sparkle in Thomas's eye, the grin on his face, could likely spur it back to life in no time.
Yeah, that was the effect his sub had on every part of him. Even as he wished the cost wasn't all of them being here in the hospital, Marcus was glad Julie had finally found that. He'd given himself his own answer to why they were here. Whatever was needed, you did it, because love was worth it in a way nothing else in life could ever be.
Julie held Des's hand as the male nurse gave them a heads up. "You're all set, Mr. Hayes. We'll be back to take you to surgery in a few minutes." He was a young man, slim with blond hair and friendly blue eyes. Though Julie was concerned by his youth, he seemed to know what he was doing as he prepped her Master for surgery. She was being silly, she knew she was, but she expected they were used to that. Thank goodness she had Betty with her to keep her from being an idiot. Julie was confident Betty would step in if any care Des received was anything less than it should be.
"When he's in post-op, they'll call our desk and let us know it's time for you two to meet with the surgeon," the nurse told Betty.
Betty had his healthcare power-of-attorney, but Des had already updated his privacy paperwork so Julie could be in on everything discussed today. She was pleased with that further evidence he was trying not to shut her out of anything, though it didn't really help alleviate any worries about how today would go.
"Thanks, Sal." Betty rose. "I'm going to go to the nurses' desk, give you two a couple minutes. I'll be back." She winked at Julie and touched Des's arm. "You've got nothing to worry about. This is the easy part."
She followed Sal out the door, comfortably chatting with him about the current gossip on the floor, since Betty was a regular visitor to this part of the hospital.
Julie knew she was right about this being the "easy" part, though that drew her mind to what could happen in the aftermath. She'd had a crash course in everything transplant-related these past several weeks, and anything else she could learn about managing diabetes. She did it on her own time, not wanting Des to think that she thought she was going to have to be his fulltime caregiver. But to her way of thinking, it was like him being there when Pablo's scaffolding had failed. He'd known how to help and what to do when it mattered.
Kidney transplant surgery was now fairly straightforward. Thomas's recovery should be a hundred percent if there were no complications, and complications for a healthy male donor were rare. Regardless, Marcus would watch him like a hawk during the recuperation period and make sure he followed every rule to the letter.
Des's challenge would be his body accepting the kidney. He'd be put on drugs to try and prevent rejection, drugs that would lower his immune system significantly, and that he'd be on for the rest of his life. His diet, already fairly structured, would become even more regimented. If his system rejected the kidney, he would go back on dialysis and either have to do that permanently or try again with a different kidney. Though if his body rejected one that was a close genetic match, it wasn't likely to accept another.
Yes, there were possible bad outcomes. But through the many things Julie had learned, the details she'd internalized, she held onto one message with both hands, the one Betty had hammered into her. This is a good step, the right step. The best chance he has to keep living anything resembling a normal life.
She ran an appraising eye over him. He was quiet, deep in his head somewhere, understandably, but the pressure of his hand said he was also with her. His hair was tied back for when it would need to be scooped up and tucked into the paper hat he'd have to don for surgery. They'd also put similar boots on his feet. He'd made the nurse smile when he'd asked for both of those things to happen at the last possible moment.
"Don't want Julie to see me like that. She'd be taking pictures and using them to blackmail me."
"That gown is looking good on you," Julie said now.
Des glanced down. She'd only brought it out a few minutes ago, when the nurse had said it was time for him to change, so he hadn't had time to tell her what he thought of it. The nurse had responded to it with "that rocks", causing Julie and Betty to exchange an amused look. It also made Julie wonder if Sal was in the BDSM lifestyle.
The surgical gown was black, with tan-colored rope knots scattered among the silhouettes of voluptuous females tied in various poses. "Shibari surgery wear," Des commented. "I can't believe you found this."
"It wasn't me. Billie and Pablo helped find the cloth, and I sewed it. I've worked as dresser plenty of times, enough to do basic seamstress work. Fortunately, a smock isn't very form fitting."
He smoothed the fabric. "It's pretty damn awesome, Julie," he said in a low voice. "I'm going to tell them they better not mess it up or lose it when they strip me like a newborn up there."
It gratified her to see how touched he was. He didn't say 'get blood on it,' though she heard the slight hesitation as he averted that direction. Her hand involuntarily tightened on his. She wanted to climb up on the bed and hold him so tightly he'd need oxygen, but he'd cared for her, held and reassured her more than once these past several weeks. Today was her turn to be the sturdy brick wall.
"They better not. I won't hesitate to take a megalomaniac surgeon down a peg or two because he couldn't be bothered to fold up a smock and put it on a shelf where it would be safe."
"I'd pay good money to see that." He paused. "You said Pablo helped?"
"Yeah. I would have told you about him coming by the theater earlier, but the gown was a surprise and I didn't want to tip my hand. Billie suggested the vendor and placed the order, then had Pablo pick it up and bring it to me, since Billie's on his circuit up in Virginia. If you'd come by while Pablo was there, I was going to throw you off the scent by telling you he's been so wracked with guilt about the nearly-killing-me thing he wanted to give me a backrub followed by intense oral sex."
"That's a very thorough apology. I'll keep that in mind next time I piss
you off."
"I'll think of a way for you to piss me off so it will happen sooner rather than later."
She ran her fingertips over his smiling lips, along the creases by his eyes. She couldn't help herself. He was so handsome, even fatigued and pale as he was too often these past few weeks. This was going to help. It had to. She kept her tone cheerful.
"Seriously, when he brought the fabric by, he gave me a sincere, face-to-face apology. He said he knew he should have done it a lot sooner instead of sending his chickenshit text--his words, not mine, though accurate--but he'd been too embarrassed. For a few weeks after that, he'd had the jitters about doing any more rope work, because it really hit home how right you were about what could have happened."
It was Des's hand that tightened on hers this time. She saw his memory of the incident in his gaze, felt it in the strength of his hold on her. "About fucking time," he said. "Asshole." But he said it without too much rancor and, since she knew the reason he hadn't held onto his rage against the young rigger, she bit back a smile.
"Hmm." Lifting his hand to her cheek, she cupped it around her jaw so she could nuzzle it. His eyes centered on her, his fingers caressing her. Ever since the important decisions had been made, about this surgery and their relationship, things had been different between them. She didn't think it was too romantic or fanciful to call it a connection beyond words. That quiet core came with a constant, humming fullness of emotion, a bond that could only be expressed in weighted, tender, passionate stillness. She leaned in to put her lips to his, a lingering, soft gesture full of future promises. When she eased back, she didn't go far, because he'd slid his arm around her waist to keep her close.
"The 'asshole' told me you came to see him a few days after my accident," she said. "He said you introduced him to George, who mentors riggers at Logan's club, and Pablo is now learning under his supervision. I think that was the best possible balm on his feelings to help get him back on the right path."
"I wasn't doing it to make him feel better. Just to help him be better. And save lives."
"Well, that amounts to the same thing. It's when you feel like you've been written off that it's hardest to regain confidence. Not everyone has your discipline or inner strength."