A/N: This is the first fanfic I ever wrote, long before finding this fandom. I have tweaked it several times and am finally happy enough with it to post. As it takes place in London, I do use some British terms like "flannel" in place of "washcloth." As always, I don't own these characters; I just love them. Hope you enjoy.
Jessica awoke in hospital, groggy and unsure of what had happened that brought her to a hospital bed.
She moaned softly, as she felt immediate pain from what felt like a broken left wrist and a myriad of bruises and small cuts all over her body. Everything ached and hurt all at once.
As she began to regain consciousness, she was able to recall snippets of memory that led to her current state.
She remembered she was in England again. London to be precise. And that somehow, yet again, she had become embroiled in another murder investigation with her good friend, George Sutherland. But there was where her memory stalled. She knew something had happened to her during the investigation that caused her injuries, but her memories were fuzzy and despite her best efforts, she could not remember anything more.
George may appear severe to those who only knew him through his work with New Scotland Yard as a senior inspector, but after many years of friendship, Jessica knew what a caring, warm person he was with a heart of gold.
She opened her eyes fully now, allowing them to focus on her surroundings. She was in a private hospital room, with machines beeping that were monitoring her vitals. Her left hand and wrist were in a cast, which likely accounted for the intense pain she felt upon waking. She had an IV in her right hand, which felt as though it was pinching. As she looked to the right of her bed, George was seated in a chair next to her bedside, leaning over, with his head in his hands. Jessica realized that his shoulders were shaking, as though he was crying.
What in the world had happened that would move this strong man to tears?
She whispered, "George, what's wrong?"
Startled, George jerked forward out of his seat, "Jess, you are awake." Stating the obvious, he sat back down and reached for her hand, careful not to disturb the IV, while picking it up gently.
Jessica saw that her assessment had been correct; his face was damp from tears.
She released his hand to touch his face, wiping the tears as best as she could in her weakened state.
"Why are you crying, George?"
He breathed in deeply and his torso shuddered as he exhaled. He still appeared in distress and it was making Jessica nervous.
"Lass. I was terrified I had lost you. Forever today. I hate myself for not recognizing that Porter was the killer and allowing you to meet him without me. I put you in terrible danger and I will never forgive myself."
Images were starting to come back to her, as she stated, "George, you didn't put me in danger. That's nonsense. I went to meet him of my own accord. And let me be clear when I say that no man is going to allow or not allow me to do anything."
She stared at him for a long moment, making sure they understood each other, before she continued, "Incidentally, I don't remember what happened at the end. How did you find me? What happened to my wrist?"
She looked down at it, wearing an awkward plaster cast going up her forearm, stopping just below her elbow.
"Porter broke it in the scuffle when I found your location. He was holding you hostage. You don't remember? We tried to negotiate for several hours, but communication broke down and it got to a point where we had to storm the building. Jess…" he stumbled, as though he could not bear to continue, but somehow did, "Lass, he had kept you tied up. The rope had cut into your hands and wrists and ankles. Then, when he realized we were trying to break in, he untied you to move locations presumably, but ended up breaking your wrist somehow in the process."
Seeing all the bruising and scrapes along her hands and arms, she knew there were plenty more hidden under the hospital gown and blanket covering her body. She woke up hurting and she knew the pain and discomfort would probably get worse before it would improve.
"When did this happen?"
George glanced down at his watch before he answered, "About three hours ago. You became unconscious before the ambulance arrived and this is the first time you have regained consciousness. I'll never forgive myself, lass."
"Stop it, George. Let the guilt go. It does not help and I am alright. Did you catch Porter?"
"Yes. We already have a full confession. He will rot in prison if I have any say after how he treated you."
Jessica reached over to grab George's hand and gave it a tight squeeze.
Looking into her blue eyes, he murmured, "Jess, I know we keep putting this conversation off. But we can't anymore. Life is short and I don't want to let you go. I am in love with you. I want to spend whatever life I have left in your company. Today solidified that for me."
Jessica remained quiet.
George continued, "I'm not asking you to leave Cabot Cove. I know you can't do that. But I want you to know that I told the chief tonight after giving my report on my way here that I am retiring. Effective at the end of this month. If you will have me, Jess, I want to move to Cabot Cove and see if we can be together. I don't want to pressure you. I have no expectations. I will happily get a flat somewhere close by. But I hope you will think about it."
"George."
"Just think about it, please."
"George."
"Yes?" He seemed terrified at what she would say.
"George, I love you."
Tears sprang to his eyes once again, as he carefully raised up to plant a soft, but still fiery kiss on her lips.
Maintaining eye contact, Jessica promised, "We will figure it out."
Relief washed over him and he watched over her, as she nodded back to sleep.
G/J
The next morning, Jessica was deemed fit enough to be released from hospital.
George helped her into the Jaguar, but she quickly realized that they were not heading to her hotel room at the Savoy.
Instead, George turned into a quiet Mews, and he parked in front of a charming attached flat with a yellow door and a window box full of multi-colored flowers.
Jessica looked at him expectantly, even though she had already guessed where they were.
"Jess, I won't force you to go in, of course. But this is my flat. It has two bedrooms and two bathrooms. I know you may not think it proper, but I don't want to leave you alone right now. I'd like to bring you in and care for you here. If you refuse, I will take you to the Savoy, but I will ask to move you to a two-room suite for us to share and I may still install myself as a sentry at your bedroom door."
"George, you already caught the 'bad guys' as we say in America."
"For this crime, we did. But there are many more criminals out there. I know it may be irrational fear, but you heard the doctor, they want you to be looked after for at least the first few days. Please, come in and let me care for you. It will all be above board. I will be a perfect gentleman."
"You're always a gentleman, George."
"Is that a yes?"
Jessica felt her chest tighten in anticipation. Was she excited at the thought of staying in George's flat? Alone with him? Was she afraid or nervous? She didn't stop to consider further. She simply nodded affirmation.
George was out of the car immediately, helping her and insisting that she go straight to his spare room.
Within ten minutes, she was safely installed in his guest room, with her suitcase opened at the foot of the bed, while George unpacked for her. At first, Jessica was embarrassed and tried to do it herself, but George wouldn't hear of it. He got her to agree, by saying that he would ask her where everything should go, before putting it all away.
While George pulled everything out, Jessica pointed to a drawer in the wardrobe for each item. It wasn't until George got to the bottom of the suitcase, finding her underwear and bras that she became red in the face. Like a young girl.
Neither of them were young or inexperienced though.
Far from it.
It did not help though, when he smiled at her and said, "I somehow knew you wouldn't wear plain white."
"Light pink and navy are hardly scandalous," she replied, surprised at herself, for calling even more attention to her undergarments. What had gotten into her?
He raised an eyebrow and waggled it a bit, lifting up one of the pink ones that was lacey and sheer, running his fingers over one of the cups, before whispering, "Not scandalous, no. But definitely sexy."
She felt herself gasp in reply, but did not trust herself to speak and thankfully, he tucked everything away in the wardrobe without saying anything further.
After tucking her shoes under the bed, he put the suitcase beside it and stood up to survey the room.
"That's done. How about a cup of tea?"
"That would be lovely."
"Ready in a jiff."
He turned quickly leaving the room and she sighed, anxiously. She was not sure this was such a good idea. Being under the same roof together, even in separate rooms with an injury, suddenly seemed like a weak excuse.
What would her friends in Cabot Cove think?
Admittedly, a few would likely think it was about time, but others may be disappointed in her. Seth might even be hurt or worried she would move to England.
Before continuing her thought process further, George was back with a strong mug of steaming tea. She could smell the mint in it and she smiled in satisfaction.
Accepting it gratefully, she murmured, "How kind of you," before adding her thanks.
He pulled up a chair that was against the wall, saying, "I won't stay long. I'll let you sleep, but I want to say that I'm glad you are here. Is there anything else I can get you, before I leave you to rest?"
"Just stay a few minutes, George. Did you make yourself some tea?"
"Aye, I left it in the kitchen for later."
"Go get it and come back."
He returned after a brief moment.
"George, I'm not sure that staying here is a good idea. I know I am here already, but I will probably go back to the hotel as soon as I can get off these painkillers. Perhaps in the morning."
A mutinous look settled on his face.
"George, you know I'm right."
"Right about what, exactly?"
"You know what, George."
"Do I? I'd like to hear you say it. Just once. I feel like it's always me."
She hesitated. This was a different side to George she wasn't used to seeing. He was normally so easy going, but she realized that he had been the one to always express interest in her. Perhaps he needed to know that the feeling was mutual and that's why it was dangerous for them to be together under the same roof.
She whispered, "George, it's too tempting to be together."
"Tempting to be together, how?"
She looked at him incredulously, only to realize that he did know exactly how provoking he was being, but he continued looking at her all the same, willing her to answer him.
"Tempting to be with you. In a physical way."
"Thank you."
"Whatever for?"
"For verbalizing it finally. The elephant in the room."
"So, you agree? That it is tempting to be together?"
"Yes, but not that it would be a bad thing if we gave in to it."
"But we aren't married."
"The world is different now, Jess. That doesn't matter. But…if it matters to you, there is an easy solution."
She looked at him questioningly.
"Marry me," his voice warm and husky in the Scottish brogue that she found so attractive.
Her eyes widened in surprise.
He reached for her good hand. "Marry me, Jessica, and make me the happiest man in the world."
"I…" before she could answer, he reached with his other hand and gently touched her lips with his fingers.
"Please don't answer now. Just promise me you will think about it. I told you that I am retiring. I can move to Cabot Cove. Or we can keep two homes. There are many options to make this work. And I'm willing to consider all of them."
With that, he leaned forward, gently kissing her on the lips before standing and leaving the room, closing the door softly behind him.
G/J
Sometime in the middle of the night, Jessica awakened in alarm. Her heart was pounding in her chest, her breathing was rapid, and she was covered in sweat.
With a start, she realized she was in George's spare room and she was safe from Porter. He couldn't hurt her anymore.
Did she yell out loud when she woke up? She hoped not; she didn't want to alarm George.
She settled back against her pillow, realizing that the terror she felt upon awakening was a result of a nightmare. She was being held hostage, tied up as George had told her, with the culprit twisting her arm behind her back, breaking her wrist over again. The pain and agony were real even upon awakening as her painkillers must have worn off and her wrist was throbbing in pain. Even though it was a nightmare, she realized that it was based on what had actually happened to her, as the memories were clear now in her mind.
Reaching with her right hand, she slipped her fingers under the edge of her cast on her left wrist, feeling the rough skin from the burns and cuts caused by the rope that kept her tied up. With her left fingers immobile in the cast, she could still lift it and move the fingers over the edge of her right wrist, feeling several cuts and broken skin there as well. She had looked at her body briefly when putting on her pajamas the night before, but it had been too overwhelming to inspect closely. Instead, she had put the emotions to the back of her mind for later, and clearly her subconscious was telling her through this nightmare just how traumatized she was. She shuddered, as a tremor skirted across her spine, willing herself to breathe deeply in an effort to calm down.
All of this understanding only took less than a minute, as she heard a footstep outside her door, followed by a light knock.
"Jess? Lass? Are you alright?"
"Yes. Yes, I'm fine." But she didn't sound fine. Far from it. Instead, her voice sounded ragged and hoarse, as though she had been screaming. Had she screamed?
"May I open the door to see for myself?"
She nodded, but realizing that he couldn't see her, she managed somehow to get out that he could.
The door swung open.
"I'm going to turn this lamp on to see you. You don't sound good."
The light came on and immediately, George took in the twisted sheets, the look of pain on her face and the sheen of sweat glistening over her skin.
He was by her side in seconds.
"What happened?"
She gulped, "Nightmare. That's all."
"You were screaming. When I first woke up, I thought it was my own dream and almost convinced myself to go back to sleep, but then I decided I needed to check on you."
He looked at her with what could only be described as love and concern, as he reached to wipe her forehead, pushing her hair back off of it.
"You're in pain. Do you want a painkiller? The doctor said you could have one before bed, but I bet you didn't take it."
"No, I didn't. They make me loopy."
"I think you need to take one," but at her look of dismay, he continued, "or at least half."
He helped break one at the crease of the pill and handed it to her with the water glass by the bed.
After she swallowed it, he set the glass back down.
"Let me get a flannel to wipe down your face. Be right back."
He returned with a cool flannel and perched on the edge of the bed. Gently, he wiped her face, neck, and even the top of her chest and forearms not covered by the cast that were exposed from her nightgown.
He was wearing a soft undershirt with shorts. She had never seen him dressed so casually and in what was clearly his sleepwear.
"Better?"
Jessica nodded at him, but didn't have words.
He moved to stand and reached to turn the lamp off.
Without thinking, she moved to stop him. She suddenly felt terrified at the thought of being in the dark alone.
"Please. Don't."
He looked confused.
"Don't what?"
"Don't leave me."
He started to move towards the chair by her bed, but she whispered again, "No, don't leave me. Stay with me tonight. Please."
With wonder, consternation and excitement he had never felt before, he turned the light off, as Jessica scooted over, raising the sheets to let him join her, all the while, looking like a shy, innocent girl, instead of the woman in her sixties that she was.
In the dark, with a little moonlight coming through the blinds, he reached out to hold this woman, who was without a doubt the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with and he hoped to convince her of what he knew for certain already. She was the lifeblood that gave his days meaning and hope, even though he only saw her for a few days every few months. He needed to change that. He had to change that.
Lying on his back while lifting his arm, she moved onto his chest, tentatively resting the side of her face on him.
They did not speak. There was no need, now that they could feel each other's heart beat and knew that they were safe. Together.
G/J
The next morning, George was awake early. He could not believe his good fortune to wake up with Jessica in his arms. She was still sleeping, as the dawn began to break and George watched her slumber. In the dim light, he could see her body rise and fall slightly as she breathed, cradling her bad wrist in its cast on his chest. She had not moved since welcoming him into her bed in the middle of the night and he was not about to shift, for fear of breaking the spell he felt they were under.
Like a form of meditation, he held her focusing on his breath and enjoying each and every moment that he had with her. He knew only too well that she could decide to go home alone at any moment. What was she scared of by being with him? By marrying him? Was she afraid to lose independence? Or perhaps sully Frank's memory in some way? He would never want her to be a single thing less than the woman she was right now.
He recalled her straightforwardness yesterday as she told him that he was not allowed to make decisions for her. Maybe that was what it was. She had learned to be independent over the years since Frank died and there was no turning back from that. He thought he understood and filed away the thought in the back of his mind to remember in the future.
He could tell the moment she woke up, because her body stiffened slightly, probably in realization of what happened last night that led to her being in his arms this morning.
"Good morning, lass. Did you sleep better?"
She shyly looked up at him and smiled, before giving him a nod.
Even though he wanted nothing more than to stay with her, he knew that she was feeling overwhelmed and needed to be alone for a few minutes.
He kissed her softly on the head and moved to get up.
"I'm going to make us breakfast. Eggs and toast alright with some tea?"
"Yes, please."
He left her, running into his own bedroom first to freshen up and change clothes. He got ready quickly, afraid she would disappear somehow if he took too long.
Jessica went to the bathroom and put herself together as best as she could one-handed for the day. She knew she wouldn't be allowed to do anything more than sit on the couch and read, but she wanted to do that while dressed. Too many things happened last night in her nightclothes.
She entered the kitchen a few minutes later and noticed that George was also dressed, but in a more casual trouser than she had seen him wear before. It had a nice cut, but looked like sweatpants material and a soft jumper as they are called in England.
He was putting their food on plates and she saw a teapot on the counter already.
"Go ahead, lass. Have a seat at the table and I will bring everything over."
She knew better than to offer to help. Even though she wanted to, she recognized the folly in carrying anything one-handed right now. She felt too weak and discombobulated.
They ate slowly and shared the newspaper together, even working on the crossword, before getting up from the table.
"Why don't you go into the lounge and I'll join you with a fresh pot of tea soon?"
She nodded and walked back to her room to grab the book she had been reading, before going to the couch. Already she was starting to feel restless, but she knew it was from what happened last night and not so much from having real energy. Far from it. Her body felt heavy and achy.
When George joined her, he placed the teapot on the table in front of her with their teacups, and crouched down to light the fire. Setting the match to the wood and kindling, he got the fire going and the room was transformed into a cozy place that felt instantly more relaxing.
Jessica was still drowsy from the painkiller and the trauma she had been subjected to. Even only taking half in the middle of the night, she felt hungover. Yet, she could tell that the pain itself was becoming more present. She must have shown it on her face, because without saying anything, George went to get the other half of the pill from last night with her glass of water and watched while she swallowed it, before sitting back down beside her.
In silence, they spent the rest of the morning beside each other, reading while watching the fire. It was the most companionable sense of wellbeing she had experienced in some time.
"George?"
"Hmm?"
"About last night."
He immediately put his bookmark into his book and closed it to turn his full attention to her.
"George. I don't know if I want to get married again."
She could tell he was fighting for control of his emotions, so she hastened to add, reaching for his hand with her good one and squeezing tight.
"But…I do love you and I want to find a way to make this work."
She could feel his hand squeeze back, as she heard him exhale deeply.
He managed, "You had me going there for a moment. I don't have to be married either, lass. I would love to be married to you and if you need marriage before going to bed with me, I am more than happy to oblige, but it is not a deal breaker."
Curiously, she asked, "Would you be alright living closer at first and dating for a period of time? Then, perhaps we could discuss living together?"
Surprised, but feeling a smile light his face, he pivoted his whole body towards her and clasped his other hand on top of their joined ones, before speaking, "I want as much of you as you will give me."
"George, you need to be an equal partner in this and get what you want, too."
"I appreciate that, but let me be clear, Jessica Fletcher. I love you. Head, mind, body, and soul. I don't want to be apart from you another day of my life. Where you go, I will. If we live in Cabot Cove, so be it. If you want to live here in London, great. If we maintain two residences and you continue to work full time and go on your speaking tours, I want it all. I want you, Jess."
"Yes."
That was her only word, but she knew she wanted the same thing and probably had for a long time. She wasn't sure why she had not admitted it before now, but that no longer mattered, because she was admitting it now.
"Yes?"
"Yes, George, once you retire at the end of the month, come to Cabot Cove. Maybe you could stay at the Hill House for a week or two and if you aren't tired of me yet, you could move in with me…maybe in the guest room first. But we can see how things go by then. We need to live together for a while though and make sure we don't change our minds, before we make any permanent decisions. We have never spent more than one week together at once and despite the years we have known each other and the fact we have started seeing each other more regularly, we need to be in the same place together for a lengthy period of time before we consider finding a place together or getting married."
"I can live with that."
She nodded, saying, "I have faith we will be fine, but I will feel more confident if we take our time and don't rush to the altar."
His face transformed into one of almost youthful glee, as he quickly, but gently, pulled her to him and kissed her, trying to convey through his actions what his heart had long told him.
After a heated kiss that had both of them panting and needing oxygen, he pulled away by a couple of inches, staring into her eyes. The depths of blue were dark and fathomless.
She, too, gazed into his eyes, a vivid green that appeared like the summer grass.
This time, she leaned towards him to initiate the kiss, and although she kissed him softer, she slowly opened her mouth to pull on his bottom lip with her teeth. She felt his body go rigid and then he responded by his tongue finding hers. Suddenly, their mutual passion was ignited like the fire beside them. Her arms that she had already wrapped around him, began to glide up and down his back and she could hear him groan from need.
He grasped her body tightly, yet all the while seeming to have control of where and how, as he knew she was still dealing with the trauma from yesterday.
She began to lose her breath from the extensive kissing and dragging her mouth away, he began moving his mouth down her neck. She moaned, tilting her head back, as she felt her body ignite all over.
She felt him begin to unbutton her blouse, as he trailed a line of kisses down her neck. But when he kissed a line along her collarbone, he opened his eyes wanting to see her smooth skin. Instead, he saw purple and blue bruises from her captor that made him dizzy with anger.
Porter hurt her and George wanted to hurt him and watch him suffer!
Freezing in his arms, as she sensed his anger pulsing below the surface, she waited to see how he would respond. She, too, had followed his eyes, shocked herself to see the violent shades of colors on display across her collarbone. She had made no move to stop him, but he could see the exhaustion and the dark circles under her eyes when he looked up at her. Sliding his hand over to the back of the sofa, he grabbed the warm quilt to lay across their bodies. Bringing her to his chest, he urged her to relax against him. Protesting weakly at first, she did relax against him.
Sleep found them both.
G/J
After dinner that evening, George left Jessica in front of the fire with a fresh cup of tea in her hands. She was not sure where he had gone off to, but their day had been quiet and companionable. At least, once the passion that had escalated was squelched when George saw her bruises. She knew that the marks and bruises weren't attractive and she understood that she did not need to go to bed with him in her current physical state, but oh, she had wanted to.
Yet, she knew that if it had been George who had been injured, she would have stopped as well, in an effort to protect his body from further harm.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw George enter the room, with the sleeves of his jumper rolled up. He walked over to her, extending his hand, asking her to follow him. He took her teacup out of her hands, holding it in his left, while holding her arm with his right.
Exhausted, she followed him without asking any questions, hoping he would somehow know that she wanted to sleep and would need help crawling under the sheets. Yet, he continued guiding her past her bedroom, entering his, where a large bed was in the center of the room, piled high with luxurious navy bedding and large pillows.
Confused, but uncertain what to say, she remained silent, as he continued leading her to the bathroom. The overhead lights were off, but there were lit candles along the countertop and on the edge of the deep tub. The room was warm, as she could see the tub was filled with steaming hot water, a thick white towel and bathrobe waiting beside it.
"I thought you needed a long soak before bed," he said, as he turned to her.
Sighing, she said, "Oh George, it's lovely. But I'm not sure I can. I know I can't get this wet." Holding her left hand up, the cast evident, he smiled at her.
"I thought of that. I have a plastic bag here that I can tie around it. If you will allow me, I will help you get in and make sure you can keep your arm on the edge out of the water, before I leave you to relax."
Oh, she was tempted. But he would see her and it would not exactly be in a fit of a passion that would help her redirect any embarrassment she might feel. Especially, as she had become fully aware today after going to the loo and pulling her shirt up in front of the mirror, just how bruised she was.
He could see the conflict on her beautiful face, but hadn't they expressed their love for each other earlier today and agreed to move ahead with plans to live together in the coming weeks? Didn't she know she could trust him?
"Jess?"
"Hmm?"
"Trust me, please. I love you and I think you are the most beautiful woman alive. I know you are bruised and in pain. Please let me help."
Staring into his eyes, the candles flickering around them, she nodded.
He began to unbutton her blouse, careful to undo the cuffs to allow enough room to slip over her cast without pulling on it. Her trousers were next, followed by her socks and the loafer slippers she had worn all day. Standing in front of him in her bra and underwear, he was aware of the cuts and bruises along her torso and legs, but he did not want to stare and make either of them upset or angry. She needed to relax and he would not lose his temper at that man who had hurt her again. Instead, he went ahead and reached for the plastic bag to wrap around her cast, closing it with packing tape. It was bulky and awkward, but would keep it dry.
Turning back to her, he reached around her back to her bra clasp. He saw her swallow, but she did not stop him. Unhooking it, he pulled the straps down her arms, freeing her breasts, as he felt his own throat swallow. Pulling her underwear down her long shapely legs, he stood back up and could not help gazing at her. She was stunning.
He tried to maintain control, but his hand did not obey, as he reached for her soft warm breast to hold. He could see her chest rise and fall as she tried to catch her breath.
"You are gorgeous, lass. Absolutely gorgeous."
Looking down at herself, her mouth twisted, as she muttered, "Hardly. I'm broken and bruised."
Reaching to caress her jaw, his voice was somewhat harsh, as he said, "Don't. Don't you dare let him win in any way. You are lovely. And you are strong. And fierce. And the woman I love. And when you are feeling better, I intend on showing you how much I adore you."
Smiling, she knew his reaction was what she needed to hear. He was right. She would heal and she was strong and fierce.
But she was also cold.
Nodding towards the tub, she asked, "Help me?"
"Of course, lass."
Leaning back in the tub, she felt her body truly relax for the first time in days. This was perfect. This was exactly what she needed.
After making sure that her hand was protected from the water and everything she needed was within reach, George left her alone to soak, keeping the door open so he could hear if she needed him.
G/J
When the water began to grow lukewarm, she called out to him and he helped her out of the bath, drying her off like a child.
She tried to argue, but there was really no point. Even though it was her non-dominant hand that was injured, it would have been exhausting to do it herself with only one working hand. He had brought in a fresh pair of pajamas and underwear, which he assisted her into, before wrapping her up into her warm bathrobe.
She stood at the sink to brush her teeth and hair, but before he left the room, he appeared a touch nervous before asking, "Lass, would you like to move into my room tonight?"
Surprised, but not shocked, she agreed, saying, "I'd like that."
By the time she finished in the bathroom, George had moved her water glass, book, reading glasses, and slippers from the guest room to her side of the bed, with the covers pulled back for her to slip in. He was in the bed already with a book across his lap. It all seems so domestic all of a sudden, and she felt shy like a new bride.
Settling in beside him, she curled next to him, with her injured arm across his waist. He turned off the light and kissed the top of her head.
"Thank you," she whispered in the dark.
"For what?"
"For running the bath for me. For understanding that I didn't want to sleep alone. For being here with me. And being willing to wait for me to be ready."
"I think we are both ready in our hearts. We simply need your body to heal first."
Reaching up to kiss his neck at the edge of his sleep shirt, she whispered in his ear, "George, I need you now. Not in a week or a month from now. But now."
"I don't want to hurt you."
"You won't."
Moving onto her back, she pulled him on top of her body with her right hand. He hoped he could stay in control, while showing her how much he loved her and wanted her. Keeping her injured hand to the side of her body, he sought out to discover the rest of her with his hands, mouth, and soul.
By the time he joined his body to hers, the need and craving for one another was maddening, as he wanted to drive her to the edge and leap off with her in his arms. He watched her toss her head and cry out, her sounds and pleas for release so enticing and arousing, he thought he would lose his mind. Feeling her body as it began to tighten, she came undone, her cries echoing in his very soul. Following right behind her, he collapsed moments later, completely spent.
As soon as his brain cleared, he pulled away, verifying that he had not caused her any pain.
Smiling at him in a haze of spent desire, she sighed, "I'm wonderful, George."
Wanting to keep her still and relaxed, he curled his body around hers, while placing his arm across her hip.
Kissing her cheek, he whispered how much he loved her.
Caressing his face with tenderness in her eyes and in her very touch, she said, "I know. I love you, too."
As she fell asleep, with his head resting on her chest, she knew they would find a way to be together.
Retirement was not sounding so bad after all.