AUTHOR'S NOTE: First of all, thanks to everyone who reviewed and alerted Chapter 1. You guys are SO awesome.

Secondly, this chapter is more about what Sam's daily life is like, but there are parts that are quite naughty and steamy, so I'M GIVING IT AN M RATING. If sex scenes make you uncomfortable, just skip this chap and send me a PM. I'll give you a more G-rated summary. :)

Beta'd by sallyloveslinus, skzb, and Catsluver. Hugs to you all for taking time out of your busy lives to help me out!

Chapter 2

August 2009

In a separate bag from his clothes, Sam packed all of his normal toiletries, along with catheters, sterile latex gloves, wet wipes, lubricant—all the things he would need for his bowel and bladder routines—and lotion to help prevent his skin from drying out and breaking down. He also had to pack large absorbent pads to protect the mattress on the bed he and TJ were going to sleep in just in case he had an accident during the night. He always cathed himself before he went to bed and also got up in the middle of the night to go again, but he could never be a hundred percent certain he wouldn't have an accident. He sure as hell wasn't about to chance it happening at TJ's boss's house.

Then there was the issue of his leg braces and forearm crutches. Should he take them? It was only for a few days, but he wasn't sure how wheelchair accessible the kitchen and other rooms in the house might be, and being able to get around on his crutches might come in handy. It would especially suck if his chair wouldn't fit through any of the bathroom doorways, which sometimes tended to be narrower in a lot of houses. His chair was as sleek and compact as possible, but he was a big guy. It had been custom built for his size, and there were some places he just couldn't fit. He decided to take the braces and crutches. Better to be safe than sorry.

It made him feel like an old woman, having to pack so much stuff. At least he wasn't on the meds anymore and didn't have to worry about packing those.

He and TJ were going away for a long weekend. The professor that TJ worked for as a teaching assistant, Dr. Rostom, had a house on the coast about an hour and a half from San Diego in Laguna Beach—a hell of a commute to SDSU on weekdays—and had asked TJ if she wanted to house-sit. All she had to do was feed the professor's two Golden Retrievers, water the plants, and generally keep an eye on things.

Orientation for first-year law students at Berkeley started August 13th, and it was Sam's last weekend in San Diego. TJ had jumped at the chance to house-sit, welcoming some alone time with him before he left. They had spent an idyllic summer together, had become closer than ever, and he didn't have the heart to turn her down, although he was wary.

Except for stays in the hospital for various reasons, this was the first time he'd stayed overnight somewhere away from his apartment—his apartment that was accessible and accommodated every facet of his disability. He debated whether he should take his shower chair and padded toilet seat but decided against it. It would be embarrassing lugging that stuff around, and, besides, he had no desire to turn Dr. Rostom's home into a gimp palace, even if it was just temporary.

Sam would deal. He'd seen videos on YouTube posted by others with SCI showing how they took baths and used a toilet (not actually using it, but demonstrating with their clothes on) without any adaptive equipment, and he was willing to give it a try. If it worked out okay, it would certainly make traveling a lot easier in the future.

It had been over two and a half years since his injury, but there were still a lot of things that were new to him, ways of adapting that he hadn't tried. He'd learned more from those videos on YouTube than he had in rehab—not that his therapists in rehab hadn't been competent. It was just that there were an infinite number of situations and scenarios that were different now because of his paralysis. It would have been impossible for the therapists to cover everything. He realized that now, although he'd been scornful of them at the time. He hadn't exactly been the best patient in rehab. It had been one of the worst times of his life.

It suddenly dawned on him how monumental this four-day weekend with TJ actually was. Before his injury, he and Dean never stayed in any one place for more than about a week. Since his injury, with the exception of rehab, he'd lived in the same place for two years. It had been that long since he'd seen the inside of a seedy motel room.

He zipped his toiletry bag, set it on his lap, and wheeled into his bedroom where TJ was slinging a quilted, aqua-blue overnight bag over her shoulder. She was wearing a simple, hot-pink T-shirt that accentuated her breasts and trim figure, along with her usual jeans and flip-flops.

"Ready?" she asked with a slightly arched brow. Before he could answer, she turned her attention to her bag and unzipped it. Her ponytail bounced as she rummaged through it one last time, like she was making sure she hadn't forgotten something.

"Yeah. I'm ready." He grabbed his clothes duffel off the bed and added it to his lap."Could you grab my braces and crutches out of my closet?"

"Sure."

While she did that, he wheeled over to the small chest of drawers against one wall of his sparsely furnished room and got the sock-like covers he used to protect the skin on his legs from the braces, stuffing the covers into his clothes duffel.

TJ got the forearm crutches out and carried them both together in one hand and his long leg braces together in her other hand. His braces were technically called knee-ankle-foot orthotics or KAFOs. They were made of plastic that was custom molded to his legs and feet with metal components in strategic structural areas. He strapped them on with Velcro straps at his thighs, above and below his knees, his calves, and across the insteps of his feet.

With the KAFOs and the help of his crutches, he could walk short distances using his upper body muscles to swing his legs forward. It wasn't a practical way to get around at school or work because it took a lot of energy and strength. He could only walk around with them for fifteen or twenty minutes before needing to rest, but it allowed him to exercise, gave him a break from sitting all the time, and let him feel tall again. He wore them a lot when he was at home, sometimes all day.

TJ glanced at Rocket, who was giving them a woeful look, wagging his tail in agitation. He seemed to sense something was up, and he didn't like it. He had been restless and underfoot the whole time Sam and TJ had been packing.

They'd decided to leave him with Dean for the weekend because they weren't sure how Rocket and Dr. Rostom's dogs would get along. TJ gave Rocket an apologetic look. "Sorry, boy. We won't be gone long."

Rocket tilted his head to the side as if trying to figure out what she had said and then whined. TJ looked at Sam, her brow slightly creased. "Poor baby. I feel bad for him."

Sam did too, but he didn't want to have to deal with Rocket's sometimes mischievous, unpredictable nature at Dr. Rostom's house. It was better not to chance the house getting messed up. Besides, they had already packed everything except the kitchen sink, and they didn't need Rocket's extra baggage."He'll be fine. Dean will take good care of him."

She gave him a dubious look, but Sam knew she was teasing. Rocket and Dean's relationship had been rocky in the past, but they had made their peace.

Rocket came over to her and she petted him, scratching between his ears. "You be a good boy," she said in the munchkin voice she used sometimes for him. She gave him a quick goodbye kiss on his head, then picked up Sam's crutches and headed to the door.

Sam reached down from his chair and gave Rocket a scratch on the chest. "Sorry to leave you, buddy. Don't give Dean a reason to kill you."

Rocket wagged his tail and barked, as if to say, Who, me?

By the time Sam and TJ got Sam's car loaded and were on their way, they got stuck in rush hour traffic and didn't get to the coast house until after eight. They unloaded their stuff and put it in the master bedroom. TJ said she felt a little weird staying in there and sleeping in Dr. Rostom's bed (visuals of the professor and his wife doing the nasty grossed her out), but they didn't have a choice. It was the only bedroom on the ground floor and the only room that had a bathroom accessible to Sam.

The master bathroom, much to their amazement, was larger than Sam's actual bedroom at the apartment. It had two separate white-marble vanities, one lower with a chair for a lady and a taller one for a man. There was a gigantic Jacuzzi tub in the center of the room and a large walk-in shower along one wall.

Like the master bedroom, the ground level of the rest of the house was large, open, and spacious. Even better, the floors were either a gray tile or hardwood. They were easy for Sam to push his chair on and would be easy to clean if he should happen to get them dirty with his tires.

Sam and TJ were impressed with the house, to say the least. Dr. Rostom apparently had other income besides that of being a professor because his coast house was easily worth millions and millions of dollars. No wonder he didn't mind the long commute if this was what he came home to every day.

They took the retrievers, Reeya and Jeevan, for a quick walk through the neighborhood and weren't in the mood to cook anything elaborate when they got back. They threw together a quick dish of whole-wheat fettuccine mixed with olive oil, lemon, and a few vegetables they'd brought with them. They had enough groceries to get them through the evening, but they'd have to go to the store and stock up tomorrow.

Sam's worry that he wouldn't be able to maneuver his chair in the kitchen had been unfounded. The kitchen was huge and outfitted with modern, gourmet appliances. Any chef would have been in heaven there.

After dinner, they decided to explore the rest of the house. TJ quickly scouted out the upstairs and informed Sam that there was nothing interesting, just a couple of guest bedrooms.

The house, which was situated on a cliff overlooking the Emerald Bay surf line, was immaculately decorated in a contemporary style with lots of bright colors and geometrically shaped furniture in expensive leathers and fabrics. The large glass patio doors facing the back led out to an awesome infinity edge pool that seemed to merge with the vast Pacific Ocean below it. It had a zero or "beach" type entry, where there was a gradual slope into the pool instead of having to use a ladder or steps.

It was a typical coastal California night with a brisk breeze, despite the fact that it was August. They were both wearing hoodies to keep the chill at bay. TJ kicked off one of her flip-flops, stuck her toe in the water, and then gave Sam a smile of wonder and appreciation. "Oh, my goodness," she purred in her Kentucky accent. "It's heated. It's like bathwater."

Sam pushed himself a little closer and took a look, like he could somehow tell the temperature of the water by looking at it. "Huh." It was illuminated by glowing green lights embedded in the sides of the pool, giving it a serene appearance, and it did look pretty inviting.

There was a twinkle in her eye."Let's get in."

He smiled. "I'll go get my swim trunks on."

The twinkle in her eye turned into something naughty. "Uh-uh." She kicked off her other flip-flop, pulled off her hoodie and t-shirt, then her jeans, until she was stripped down to her pink lacy bra and panties. "Who needs bathing suits?"

"Uh," he said with a tentative half-laugh, looking at the lights on the beach in the distance, "what if someone sees us?"

"Well, unless they're pervs lookin' at us with binoculars, I'd say we're pretty safe."

She was right. The house was secluded on the cliff, and there was no way any neighbors would be able to see the pool.

She slowly pulled off her bra and then her panties, exposing her tall, lithe body in all its glory. She turned toward the pool, glanced at him playfully over her shoulder, then entered and launched into the pool's depths, swimming as gracefully as a swan.

His mouth went dry and he swallowed, his heartbeat picking up speed. She didn't have to twist his arm.

It would be easier for him to get his clothes off while still in his chair, so he quickly pulled off his T-shirt and hoodie. Then he leaned to one side, using a hand on his wheel for leverage, and slid his boxers and jeans off his hip and butt with his other hand.

He repeated that, going from side to side, inching his jeans and underwear down until they were clear of his buttocks and thighs. Once that was done, he lifted his leg and rested his ankle on his knee so he could pull his black Converse sneaker off, followed by his pants and boxers, and repeated that on the other leg. Once the jeans and underwear were free and clear, he threw them over his shoulder in haste, not caring where they landed. He had probably set a record for the fastest he'd ever gotten undressed since his injury.

"Saaam," TJ drawled from the deep end of the pool, adding an extra syllable to his name, "this water is incredible." Her eyes traveled over his now naked body, and she bit her lip and smiled suggestively.

He would have been self-conscious of anyone else seeing him like this, his thin legs and other parts of his paralyzed body exposed, but the way TJ drank him in made him feel attractive and desirable—and very, very horny.

With quick movements, he lifted his legs at his knees with his hands, flopping his feet off the footplate and placing them on the ground. He then grabbed the frame of his wheelchair with one hand and leaned his weight forward until his other hand touched the ground, palm flat. Shifting his weight more to the hand on the ground, he dipped his head and lifted his butt in the air, then slowly lowered himself until he was sitting at the entrance to the pool where it began to slope.

He braced his hands, palms down on the decking of the pool, and turned himself around, scooting himself backwards into the water so he could drag his legs, glad that the entrance to the pool was made of a smooth, squishy, rubbery substance that was easier on his skin than concrete would have been. As much as he wanted to hurry, he took it slow, not wanting to do anything that would cause a pressure sore on his butt or his legs. Even a seemingly minor scrape could cause a sore that could take months to heal if he wasn't careful. He'd been there and done that not long after his injury, and it had sucked.

Once he was far enough in the water and his legs could float, he swam on his back, head up, so he could see his feet and make sure they weren't hitting the bottom of the pool since he couldn't feel them. When he reached the deep water, he turned to see TJ waiting for him, her mouth curved seductively.

He swam to her, the water enveloping him like a warm cloak. He loved the sudden freedom of movement he had, a feeling that he was defying gravity. It was a relief to not have to drag the lower half of his body around. He knew he shouldn't think that way, that it went against what his yoga teacher had taught him. He was harking back to that dark time when he'd hated his body, when he'd felt like half a human, like the paralyzed part of his body was dead and constantly bogging him down, holding him back.

This was different than that, though. It wasn't that he was regressing. He knew he was whole, that half his body wasn't dead. He wasn't going to start fighting his paralyzed body or try to conquer it like he had before. It wasn't something he had to overcome, and he had made peace with it, had learned to listen to it and respect it.

But he couldn't help but appreciate what he was feeling right now, this lightness of being, this sense of...well...floating. He wondered why he'd never gone to the pool at his apartment. He'd always been too self-conscious before, but he was moving beyond that. Besides, the almost euphoric sensation he had now trumped any insecurities that might linger.

When he reached TJ, he grinned, loving the sense of equality he felt with her, like he didn't have a disability anymore. "Hey."

She looked beautiful, long hair wet and plastered back on her head, lacy eyelashes wet and dewy. "Hay is for horses," she teased.

He chuckled. He hadn't heard her say that in a while, but she used to tease him with it a lot when they first started hanging out, back when they were just friends.

At some point during the time it had taken him to get into the pool, she had grabbed a few colorful pool noodles—long, cylindrical, skinny floaties—and handed him two of them to put under his arms so he wouldn't have to constantly tread water. Then she leaned forward and kissed him, combing her fingers idly through his hair, which was still mostly dry. "This is the life, isn't it?"

"Someday, I'll give you a house like this."

She smirked and shook her head. "I doubt it."

He raised his brows, surprised by her answer. "It's good to know your faith in me is so unwavering."

She gave a little half giggle. "It's not that I don't have faith in you. It's just that I figure you'll end up being a defense attorney who champions the meek and downtrodden—or Dean," she added wryly. "You're probably not gonna have two nickels to rub together."

"Oh, really?" he said with a grin, amused by her prediction.

"Really," she confirmed. "There's no way you'll ever be able to turn down someone in need of help—even if they can't afford to pay you."

"You're painting a pretty noble picture of me."

She was suddenly serious. "You are noble, Sam. I've never known anyone more noble or honorable than you."

Warmth radiated through him at her compliment, and he was moved that she thought that way about him, although he wasn't sure he deserved it. He leaned forward, taking her face in his hands and kissing her, his tongue tasting her lips.

"Mmm," she moaned in appreciation and then drew back a little. "So, I guess it's up to me to make all the money. I'm gonna give you a house like this."

"Okay," he said, giving her another peck on the lips.

She arched a brow. "'Okay'?" She seemed surprised that he had agreed so easily.

"Okay," he repeated. "You're gonna cure cancer one day." He meant it. She was incredibly intelligent.

"You're pretty smart yourself, you know."

"Does that mean I'll maybe have at least a few clients who'll actually pay me?"

"Maybe one or two."

He smiled.

She gave him a long, sultry look. "You know what?"

"What?"

She ran the tip of her finger over his chest, tracing the muscles there. He closed his eyes, savoring the simple, deceptively innocent touch.

"I want you, Sam Winchester. You turn me on, make me hunger for you. There's an ache deep inside me that only you can fill."

His blood ignited instantly and he leaned toward her, wanting to kiss her, to bury his tongue in her mouth and connect with her.

She pushed on his chest, stopping him. Her manner was coquettish, sensual. "Do you want me, too, Sam?"

"You know I do." He touched her cheek with his thumb, and she turned her head and took his thumb in her hot, sliky mouth, sucking and teasing. He closed his eyes and groaned with the intoxication of it.

After a moment, she turned her head back to him, his thumb popping out of her mouth with a luscious, wet popping sound. Her voice was low and sexy, her drawl in full force, her eyes a little hooded, a little mysterious. "Then if you want me, Sam," she paused, and her mouth curved into a mischievous grin, "come and get me." As quick as lightning, she had her hands on his shoulders and dunked him before taking off with a splash, noodle floaties popping out from under his arms and shooting away.

For a split second, Sam wondered what the hell had happened, feeling his ardor cool like he'd been doused by a bucket of cold water, but then he opened his eyes while he was still under and saw her kicking away from him. He broke the surface and grabbed for her, his fingers barely touching her ankle as it slipped out of his reach.

When she was several feet away from him, safely out of his range, she stopped and treaded water, a little breathless, the pale skin of her shoulders glowing in the moonlight. Her freckles gave her an impish quality, along with the wicked grin on her face.

He turned his head to the side a little, looking at her from the corner of his eye, pretending to be stern. "Oh, you are so gonna pay for that."

She arched a brow and drawled, "I certainly hope so."

With a guttural growl, he scooped in an armful of water using his considerable strength and launched himself toward her. Again, she was too quick for him, and he gave chase. They frolicked around like twelve-year-olds, splashing each other and laughing, until Sam was finally a nanosecond faster than her and caught her slender wrist in his grasp. He dunked her for good measure, and she came up sputtering, wiping the water and hair out of her eyes.

He grinned, pushing his own hair out of his face. "Payback's a bitch."

Her eyes narrowed and she splashed him. He laughed. They were near the shallow end of the pool, so he hooked his arm around her waist, pulling her with him as he swam with his free arm to the shelf where the shallow part ended and the deep began. He sat down on the shelf, legs floating a little out in front of him, and she sat in his lap, straddling him.

He placed his hands on her waist, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, her face just inches from his. They were both a little breathless, and he could feel her ribs expanding and contracting beneath his hands.

She looked at him, her brown eyes smoldering and telling him how she felt more than words ever could.

He kissed her, easy at first, flicking his tongue in and out of her mouth, nipping her bottom lip with his teeth. She moaned and pulled him tighter, deepening the kiss. Her breasts rubbed against his chest, their skin melding together, bonded by the heat of their bodies. They were both burning up, despite the chilly air that touched the exposed parts of their skin.

He wished for the millionth time that he could feel her sitting on his lap, that he could feel all of her against all of him, but he pushed it out of his mind. He couldn't dwell on that because there was nothing he could do about it. Instead, he concentrated on what he could feel—and, holy God, it was a lot. Every nerve ending above his waist was attuned to her. She was a bright, hot flame that he was drawn to, and there was no way he would ever be able to resist her. He would die without her.

She leaned back a fraction and pressed her palms on his chest, then gently rubbed his nipples with her thumbs until they hardened. His nipples were hypersensitive, sometimes painfully so, but she knew how to touch him, knew how to make him feel only pleasure.

He nibbled on her neck in the curve just below her ear and ran his hands over her shoulders, then moved down to her shoulder blades and traced them with the tips of his fingers. She shivered, but he knew it wasn't because she was cold. "Scoot back," she said, voice husky, "so that you're in the shallower water."

He did as she asked, scooting back to where the water only reached his waist, getting goose bumps on his arms and upper torso from the cool air hitting his wet skin. She got out and headed toward a neat stack of blue floatie mattresses near the pool.

She was so at ease with him, not self-conscious at all despite the fact that she was completely naked. She was no longer embarrassed of her body or the surgical scars from her battle with bulimia. He admired her firm butt as she bent to pick up the floatie and almost drooled at the sight of her breasts, her flat belly, the triangular patch of dark hair in her most private area, her long legs—all illuminated by the soft glow of the patio lights and the moon.

He caught her eye, and she gave him a saucy smirk, obviously very aware that he'd been enjoying the view. He smiled.

She laid the mattress down where the bottom of the pool started its subtle slope into the water. The floatie was the kind that wasn't inflatable, made out of some kind of thick, waterproof foam padding. "It's for you."

He realized she had gotten it for him to protect his skin from the bottom of the pool. He braced his palms and scooted himself onto the mat, then lowered his head so that he was lying down. He was submerged enough that his back was still in the warm water, but the front of his body was not.

She straddled him again. "Better?"

"Yeah."

She slowly leaned down toward him, her eyes filled with the promise of pleasure to come. When her mouth was close to his, she gave him a scorching kiss, probing deep and leaving nothing untouched by her tongue. She began to pull away, but he wanted more and curled a hand around the nape of her neck, holding her there.

He gave as good as he got, tracing her teeth with his tongue and then kissing her hard. With his other hand, he pulled her tightly to him, wanting to make her a part of him. Time seemed to stop for a moment and nothing mattered but this connection to her, this little dance of their tongues that filled him with delight and desire.

She broke free, breathless, and sat up. Her lips were red and swollen, and she looked beyond gorgeous. "God Almighty, Sam," she drawled. "You make me insane."

She made him insane. He couldn't even speak, only able to make a grunting noise that seemed to rumble from his chest. He was like a caveman, all his primal desires taking over, and he tugged on her again, wanting her tongue back inside his mouth.

She resisted, pushing on his chest, and scooped up a handful of water with her other hand. She let the water trickle onto his stomach, just above his navel where his sensation began. His upper abdominal muscles clenched involuntarily in reaction, and he relished the contrast of the warm water and the cool night air on his skin.

Once she was done, she bent down and licked at the water she had drizzled onto his stomach, taking her time, licking up each drop one by one, swirling her tongue in little circles in the process. She was right on the edge of where his feeling began, in the area that was sort of like a band around his waist, an area that was sometimes uncomfortable and felt weird. She knew how to touch him there though, was an expert at turning the area into an erogenous zone that had been a source of intense pleasure for him many times.

She lingered there, taking her time, until she had licked every last drop of the water off of him. His body began to tremble, straining to get satisfaction, desperate for a release of the growing, urgent tightness inside him.

She began to trail little kisses up his stomach, up to his sternum and then to his collarbone, which she traced with her tongue. He was almost in a trance, heart beating fast but muscles unable to move, held by the power of her skillful mouth. He didn't want the bliss to end.

She raised her head up just long enough to take in a breath, but the little movement broke through the daze he was in enough to make him realize that he was being selfish, that she was doing all the work. He ran his hands along her ribs and up to her breasts, then cupped them, massaging and squeezing. He gently twisted one of her nipples and she gasped, making a noise of pleasure deep in her throat. He felt it vibrate into his skin where she was still licking him.

She made her way to his arm, making a path of circles with her tongue over his bicep. She pulled his hand from her breast and straightened his arm so that it was lying by his side. Then she continued her tasting of him, flicking her tongue in the crease of his elbow.

His senses were on overdrive now, his brain and nerves compensating for the absence of sensation in the lower half of his body by giving him intense feeling in the parts he could feel. He concentrated on her tongue in that crevice, and it drove him wild, his mind flooding with erotic pleasure and bringing him to the brink of something incredible. As if sensing it, she moved lower and began kissing the inside of his arm just below his elbow, bringing him back from the edge. "Did that feel good?" she drawled between kisses.

"Oh, God, TJ. You know it did. Go back there."

"Hmmm," she murmured. "Not yet, baby. Not yet."

He groaned with need. He lifted his head a little and saw that one of her hands was down in his lower region, that she was trying to make him hard.

He could get an erection if she touched him there, but he couldn't feel it, couldn't control it. It didn't stem from his emotions, or he would have been hard the moment she had first taken her clothes off.

In the last year that they'd been together, especially after he'd gotten off all the meds he'd been on, he had better endurance. It seemed that practice made perfect, although "Little Sammy" was still unpredictable. Sometimes his erection lasted for a long time—sometimes long after he and TJ had finished making love, giving her a lot of fodder for some devilish teasing—and sometimes it didn't last long enough to bring satisfaction. It had mortified him the first time they'd been intimate and that had happened, but he had eventually gotten over it. They had long since discovered many ways to give each other satisfaction, and they had a very loving, healthy, sexual relationship.

He raised himself up on his elbows, reluctantly breaking TJ's kisses on his arm. "Let me make you ready, TJ."

She slowly closed her eyes and shuddered, arching her head back a moment. "Mercy, Sam. Just hearing your voice makes me ready."

He lay back down again, and she wriggled up so that he could reach her, one of her hands still stroking him. He licked her chest, the tip of his tongue at the point where her cleavage began, and trailed down to the faded surgical scar just beneath her breastbone. At the same time, he pressed two of his fingers inside her. She was moist and hot, and her body reacted instantly to his invasion, clenching around his fingers. It was incredibly erotic, and his mouth went dry, causing him to swallow hard.

He began sliding his fingers in and out, rubbing her with the heel of his hand at the same time. She rose up straighter and arched her back like a cat. She was on her knees, straddling him, thighs quivering. "Oh, Sam. Oh, my God."

He knew he'd brought her to the brink, just as she had him. "Not yet, baby," he said, echoing her words. "Not yet."

She groaned in protest.

He withdrew his fingers and felt for her hand, feeling the hard length of his penis in it, and joined her for a second in her stroking, long past the point of being disturbed that he couldn't feel it. Then he gently pulled her hand away, lacing his fingers with hers and guiding her hand until it was over his heart. He wanted her to feel how hard his heart beat for her.

He locked eyes with her and grabbed her hips, settling her directly on top of him. With her free hand, she fit him inside her. He held firm to her hips and began to move her up and down slowly. Her mouth opened a little and she closed her eyes, her expression one of concentration.

He loved to watch her, loved to see how her expression changed as her pleasure built.

She opened her eyes and they were overflowing with desire, hot and burning. "You're so hard, Sam. You fit me so perfectly and it feels so good. You slide in and out of me like steel wrapped in velvet." Her breath hitched, and her hand on his chest stiffened, clenching slightly. She dipped her head and shut her eyes. "Oh, God. You fill me up. You make me whole."

He loved it when she described how it felt to have him inside her, like explaining color to a blind man or a symphony to a deaf one. When he closed his eyes, he could visualize it. He could remember and meld that experience with what he felt now.

She lifted one of his hands off her hip and took each of his fingers, one by one, into her mouth. "I'm gonna show you how it feels, Sam."

His blood pressure skyrocketed.

Her eyes were hooded but she still had an almost hypnotic pull on his gaze. "I want you to keep moving my hip with your other hand. I want you to keep with my pace."

At first, he didn't understand what she meant, but then she took his thumb in her mouth, sucking on it. She held his wrist and slid his thumb in and out, in and out. He realized by his hand that was still on her hip that she was moving his thumb in sync with the way she was moving on top of him. He couldn't really control her movements with only one hand, but he could tell how she was moving, and the rhythm they were creating was as old as Adam and Eve.

When she began to move his thumb faster inside her mouth, he squeezed her hip and felt her body respond, moving faster, too. He concentrated hard on the feel of his thumb, tried to clear his mind and just let the sweet friction of it pulsing in and out of her hot mouth fill his senses. He was surprised by the sudden intensity of it, excited by the fact that he felt her hip move in time with it, and he felt himself begin to take control, moving his thumb of his own volition, his fingers splayed on her cheek. She let go of his wrist and braced her hands on his chest.

He could feel the need building inside him, could feel his blood surging as his heart pumped, hammering so hard it felt like it would break free of his chest. In and out, in and out, in and out. The line between what was his thumb and what he knew in his mind was himself inside her began to blur. TJ's moans of ecstasy mingled with his own and they moved faster and faster. He'd never been so in sync with her.

Suddenly, he felt like he was soaring. His mind was flooded with endorphins that rushed through him in waves, and, at the same time, he felt like there was a tight knot in an unidentifiable place inside him that was suddenly bursting open and scattering into the wind. He couldn't contain himself any longer and cried out, unintelligible at first but then turning into words. "Oh, TJ. Oh, God, TJ." He gulped in mouthfuls of the night air as the ecstasy crescendoed and then slowly began to ebb.

She was moaning, eyes closed, sucking hard on his thumb, her back suddenly going rigid. He saw that she was beginning to climax and withdrew his thumb from her mouth. He was sated, and he wanted to hear her say his name.

She didn't disappoint him. "Oh, Sam. Oh, sweet Lord." She opened her eyes, leaned forward, and placed both of her palms on his shoulders, forearms on his chest, again bracing herself. Her eyes were glazed with the madness of her pleasure, her body rocking in a frenzy back and forth, and she gave a laugh that was almost hysterical. "Oh, yes. Oh, Sam. Sam! Oh, my God. I love you." She was panting hard. "Lord, have mercy. I love you. I love you."

When it was over, she rested her forehead on his shoulder for a long moment, catching her breath. He idly rubbed her back with his fingertips and felt her finally relax the full weight of her body onto him, head on his chest. He kissed the top of her head and wrapped his arms around her. "You're a friggin' genius, True Joy Nelek."

She gave a little snort of amusement and raised her head up to look at him."That...was...amazing," she said, enunciating each word, "but I'll kick your ass if you use my full name again."

He grinned. "You and Dean, always with the threats. When are you two gonna realize I can't feel my ass?"

"Hm. Good point. I'll have to devise another punishment." She rose up and planted a kiss on his lips. "I can be pretty creative, you know."

"Yeah, I know. I think I'll use your whole name more often," he teased.

She gave a halfhearted eye roll and then grew more serious. "That really was amazing."

"So, uh, Little Sammy was accommodating?" He was a little embarrassed to ask, but he wanted to know. It was a guy thing.

She nodded. "Little Sammy was quite the gentlemen. He definitely stuck around 'til the party was over." She gave a lewd glance toward his nether region. "But once it was over, he didn't overstay his welcome."

He held in a smile, trying to hide his relief and, at the same time, feeling a small sense of triumph. It was rare that he maintained an erection for exactly the right length of time.

"It was different this time," she said. "Incredible, actually. Did you feel it? I mean, you know..." She lowered her eyes and colored a bit.

He nodded in answer, loving that she could be so wanton but that some things still made her blush. "I felt it. That was the best it's ever been for me. I mean, that's saying a lot, because it's been really good before."

"Good." She smiled, but then her brow furrowed into a pensive look. "I think maybe we didn't do the thumb thing long enough before. That's probably why it didn't work." She was in scientist mode now.

"Whatever you say, Professor Nelek." He had forgotten they'd tried the thumb thing before with less-than-stellar results.

"We have to take notes on these things, Sam," she chastised, "so we don't forget what works."

He made a noise that said there was no way in hell he was going to forget.

She giggled and gave him a gentle love bite on his chest, then laid her head back down, one hand resting palm down near her chin, fingers splayed across his skin.

They were quiet for a long time, both content and sated, both getting drowsy. In a soft voice, she broke the silence. "I love feeling your chest expand when you breathe, Sam. Your breath is safety and comfort. And your heartbeat is my heartbeat. It's my soul."

God, the things she said to him sometimes. He felt his throat narrow with emotion, and he tightened his arms around her. "You know, for a nerdy scientist, you can be pretty poetic."

"Hmm." She turned her head and lightly kissed his chest, then rested her chin on it. Suddenly, she laughed.

"What?"

"I think we have an audience. Jeevan and Reeya are watching us through the patio doors."

He chuckled. "They probably need another walk." He sighed. There were things he needed to do, too, the more mundane demands of his body plunging him back to reality. He was probably already a bit off schedule. "I...uh, I'm sure it's time for me to, you know..."

"Yeah. I know." She rose up a bit. Her long hair was partially dry and matted on her head, and he resisted the urge to smile. It's not like his hair probably looked any better.

"Also, being in this chlorinated water for so long probably isn't good for your skin. Mine either, for that matter." She gave him a peck on the lips. "I'll get us some towels." She got up and hugged herself with her arms, hunching over. "It's freakin' cold out here without your body heat and the water to keep me warm," she said with a shiver, and sprinted off.

He heard the quiet swish of the electronic patio door behind him as it opened for her and then heard Jeevan and Reeya whimpering impatiently.

TJ came back a few minutes later with a towel wrapped around her, the two retrievers following her with their long, feathery tails wagging in expectation. She'd brought a towel for the seat of Sam's wheelchair and one to dry himself off with. He transferred himself from the ground into his chair and dried off, then covered himself, wrapping the large, white bath sheet around his waist.

There was no need for him to go to the trouble of getting dressed since he needed to cath himself and take a bath to get the chlorine off his skin. The skin below his injury didn't shiver or sweat, so he had to be careful to keep it clean to avoid a bacterial infection. Of course, chlorine was supposed to kill bacteria, but there was no telling what it would do to his overly sensitive skin.

When he reached the bathroom, TJ was dressed and combing through her hair in front of the lady's vanity. "I'm going to take the dogs for a walk before I take a shower, so you can have the bathroom to yourself."

He nodded and eyed the huge Jacuzzi tub, trying to judge how easy it would be to get in and out of it, since the separate shower was off limits without a shower chair. He had a fleeting thought that the shower was so large he could probably roll his chair into it, but he didn't want to hassle with getting his chair wet.

TJ paused in her combing, looking at him in the reflection of the mirror. "You want me to stay in case you want any help?"

He shook his head. "I'll be fine."

There was a little bit of worry in her eyes that she couldn't hide.

"Really. I can handle it." He sounded more confident than he felt.

She nodded and went back to her combing, not looking entirely convinced but not arguing.

After she left, he got out his cath supplies—latex gloves, wet wipes, and clean catheter—and wheeled into the separate, walled off area where the toilet was. His chair barely fit in the small closet-like space, and there certainly wasn't much room to maneuver. He set his supplies on the back of the toilet, removed the towel covering his lower half, and threw it out of his way behind him. Then he tried to visualize how the guy on YouTube had done this.

He locked the brakes on his chair and gripped the side of the toilet seat with one hand and the frame of his chair with the other. He carefully transferred his buttocks to the seat of the toilet, sitting sideways, aware that the hard porcelain of the seat would be much harder on his skin than the padded one at home. He then turned himself around to sit properly, using his hands to move his long legs in the small space.

Okay. That wasn't so bad. Of course, it was easier this time because he didn't have clothing to worry about. At home, he had stainless-steel grab bars attached to the wall behind the toilet and the side of his vanity for leverage, but he could make this work.

Once he was done, he transferred back to his chair and pushed himself over to the tub. It was good that it was large and was situated sort of in the middle of the room. It had a thick ledge all around it, so balancing on the side wouldn't be a problem. He got several towels out from the linen cabinet—a couple to sit on in the tub to protect his butt, one for the seat of his chair, and another one to dry himself off.

He transferred from his chair to the ledge of the tub, then gripped the opposite side of the tub with one hand and slowly and carefully lowered his buttocks to the folded towels he'd placed at the back of the tub to sit on. Then he picked up his legs, which were still hanging over the side, and lowered them into the tub.

He was relieved and wondered why he'd been worried about this. Maybe he didn't need all that adaptive stuff after all, didn't need the grab bars. Of course, this tub was easier than most with its wide ledges, not to mention that it was big enough that his long legs didn't have to be scrunched up too much. The narrow side of a normal tub in a place like a hotel wouldn't be as easy to sit on, making his balance more precarious before lowering himself into the tub, but he was pretty sure now it could be done. Correction. He knew now it could be done, and it opened up possibilities for travel and visiting TJ's family in Kentucky that he'd thought would be a major hassle before.

He reached for the knob, feeling pretty good about himself. In the second before he gave it a twist to turn on the water, he heard the jingle of a dog collar on the other side of the bathroom door and smiled. "It's okay, Teej. I'm good."

There was a beat of silence and then she cleared her throat. "Um, TJ isn't here. She's out walking the dogs like she's supposed to be, not standing here waiting to see if you bust your ass."

His smile spread into a grin. "Right."

"Sorry." She sounded contrite. "I'll be back after 'while."

"TJ?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

He could hear the smile in her voice. "I love you, too, Sam."

There was the fading sound of collars jingling and TJ walking away as she tried to settle the excited dogs, who knew they were finally about to get their walk. Then he could hear a door opening and closing, and she was gone.

In the silence that followed, he was hit with a sudden, fierce ache, knowing that this time next weekend he wouldn't be with her. He wasn't even sure when he would see her again. They had agreed to play it by ear, see how both their work and classes were going, and plan from there.

It was killing him, but he tried not to show it. TJ was being so strong about it, so supportive. He didn't understand how she could so easily accept that he was leaving. She hardly seemed affected by it at all, like she wouldn't miss him that much.

He twisted the knobs, turning on the water and adjusting the temperature, and pushed the thought away. He was being stupid. He knew TJ loved him. He needed to man up and stop being so emo. If she could do it, so could he.

TBC

Okay, kids. Next chap will be up next Wednesday.