Happy Holidays! To celebrate the season, here’s a festive (and NSFW) chapter preview from my forthcoming release, Stolen Hearts, a.k.a. Don’t Call Me Hero, Book 6. I don’t have a release date just yet, but I’m excited about where the story is leading our two favorite ladies.

Going on a date with Julia was a little less dramatic now that we lived together. I could still leave and pretend to be picking her up with a bouquet of flowers, but Julia was too practical for those kinds of chivalrous gestures. She’d always been the one to drive since she refused to ride on the back of my Harley, so anything that might mimic a more traditional date with accepted roles had never really been reality for us.

At the start of our relationship, I’d been so fixated on getting her to go on dates with me that I hadn’t been able to enjoy the organic, unforced way in which our partnership had evolved and grown. We hadn’t even had a proper second date before exchanging the L-word. I knew we didn’t require antiquated gestures and rituals, but it was the only way I knew how to get Julia to loosen the strangle-hold she typically held over the power-dynamics in our relationship. Only when she agreed to go on a date was I allowed to surprise and treat her.

I waited in the living room while Julia finished getting ready. I hadn’t revealed my plans to her despite her repeated efforts to cajole those details from me, but I had given her instructions on what to wear. While the typical Midwesterner was probably most comfortable in jeans and a sweatshirt, Julia favored dressed and fitted skirts. While I had no complaints about the leg-baring outfits, it wouldn’t quite work for my plans for us that day.

I hopped to my feet when Julia entered the room. She flashed an indulgent smile as she finished fastening small, silver hoop earrings. “Thank you for your patience, darling,” she approved. “I know you said nothing fancy, but I just couldn’t decide what to wear.”

Her sweater and jeans combination was sensible, but somehow she’d managed to make the normally relaxed outfit choice look expensive. Her dark blue jeans hugged every modest curve as though they’d been tailor-made for her. The sweater was probably cashmere, and more expensive than any single clothing item I owned, but it was about as casual as Julia could manage if we were actually leaving the condo.

“Good things come to those who wait, right?” I returned.

She balanced on one foot and then the next as she slipped into ankle-high leather boots. “That depends,” she remarked. “Am I going to like whatever we’re doing or wherever we’re going on this date?”

“I have absolutely no idea,” I said in earnest.

Julia arched an eyebrow. “You’re not sure?”

I shrugged. “If you’re the kind of woman I think you are, you’ll be into it.”

She smirked at my response and started to head for the door. “That’s clever.”

“Is it?” I questioned.

She nodded. “Now I have no choice but to like it.”

I took her hand in mine and kissed her knuckles. “Don’t worry. You’ll like it.”

+++

“Figure or hockey skates?" 

If Julia was surprised that our date was to take place at a local indoor ice rink, her features didn’t give her away. When we’d been packing up her childhood home in the previous weeks, I’d lamented how many typical Minnesotan activities we hadn’t yet done together. I wanted to be greedy with her time and blast through my To Do list, but she’d reassured me at the time that we had all of our lives to tackle that list. It was exactly the kind of thing I’d wanted to hear from her, but I still couldn’t wait to start checking off activities.

“Guess,” she seemed to dare me.

I didn’t take long with my decision. “Hockey.”

One might have expected, based on her refined, polished exterior, that Julia herself was delicate like a figure skater. But from what I knew of her childhood, she’d been a tomboy: climbing trees, fishing in ponds, skinning her knees. Julia wouldn’t have learned how to skate with figure skates and their befuddling toe-pick. She would have skated on frozen northern Minnesotan ponds with the same kind of skates as her younger brother, Jonathan. 

I hooked pinkie fingers with Julia while we waited in line to rent our skates. The indoor rink was warm enough that we didn't need heavy jackets, hats, or gloves. 

Julia looked down at our lightly locked hands. “Enjoying yourself, dear?”

Her tone was bright and slightly teasing. 

“I’m totally geeked,” I wasn’t ashamed to admit. “I feel like I missed out on so much being in the military—like ten years of my life was stolen. I missed out on being young and having fun. This is what I should have been doing in my early twenties," I said emphatically, "taking my girlfriend ice skating.”

Julia smiled, no longer teasing me or my exuberance. “I’m happy you finally get to do these things. And I’m even happier that I’m the person you get to do them with.”

“You don’t think it’s corny?" I worried. "Ice skating and holding hands and hot chocolate? Like we’re starring in our very own Hallmark Christmas movie?”

“None of us has a maple syrup company or a Christmas tree farm that needs saving, so I think we’ll be alright.”

My mouth fell open a little at her statement. “Wait. Do you actually watch those?”

Julia curled her upper lip, but otherwise looked unaffected by my accusation. “Not everything I do has to be highbrow. I’m allowed to eat ice cream from the container and watch mindless TV, aren’t I?”

“Of course!” I hastily agreed. “In fact, you’ve just added something new to our bucket list.”

Julia smirked as my excitement returned, but she allowed me the indulgence of just having fun. But in many ways, she was giving that grace to herself as well. Between my PTSD, her chronic stubbornness, and the drama of her father—first his criminal case, then the guardianship trial over her mother, and finally the suspicious nature of his sudden death—so much of our relationship had been interrupted by unfortunate circumstances. Maybe we were finally getting a reprieve from all of that drama. I thought we deserved a break, at least. 

We brought our rented ice skates to a freestanding bench adjacent to the community rink. Beyond the high plexiglass walls, couples and families with small children skated in a slow, wide loop along the boards. A pop version of a classic Christmas song blared over the PA system. 

Julia sat down on the metal bench and removed her boots. She shoved her feet into the hard-shelled skates and began to tighten the long laces. When I didn’t immediately sit beside her to do the same, she looked up at me.

“Is something wrong, dear?”

I chewed on the inside of my lip. “This is going to sound crazy, but can I do that for you?”

“Tie my shoes?” she questioned.

“Lace up your skates so they’re tight enough around your ankles," I said. The air inside of the indoor rink was relatively refrigerated, but I still felt my face grow hot. "My dad used to tighten my laces for me when I was little. I … I’ve always wanted to do that for someone else.”

The critical look on Julia’s features softened. “Of course, darling. You can tighten my skates for me.”

I didn't doubt that Julia’s fingers were strong enough to wedge beneath the nylon laces to pull them tight so her skating would be better stabilized. But I liked the idea of being able to do something for her. She was fiercely independent and rarely asked for help, even from me. She hardly let me pay for things, and she was the one to chauffeur me around. It felt good to do this.

I stood before Julia and grabbed her right foot. I trapped the blade of her skate between my knees so I had better leverage to tighten her laces. My request wasn't the result of a foot fetish—although Julia did have beautiful feet. It was actually very practical. If your laces were too loose, your ankles would rock back and forth when you tried to skate. Floppy ankles were not compatible with ice skating.

Julia was quiet while I worked, cramming my stiff fingers beneath the laces and pulling so hard that either the laces or my fingers might break. I looped the long laces around her ankle twice and then proceeded to tie off her right skate with a double knot.

“I think—.” Julia cut her statement short.

I paused long enough to glance up at her.

“I didn’t mean to speak aloud,” she revealed.

I arched a quizzical eyebrow with the toe of her skate’s blade still wedged securely between my knees. “What’s up?”

Julia looked hesitant; her mouth couldn’t quite settle on either a smile or a frown. “I think,” she cautiously continued, “that you’d make a wonderful parent.”

My fingers shook a little as I moved to her left skate. “Y-You do?”

“I can imagine you tying our children’s skates tight,” she said quietly. “Helping so they wouldn’t fall on the ice.”

I began to feel lightheaded—probably from having my head tilted down for so long while I tightened Julia’s skates, I reasoned. I was too caught up with the new word to appreciate the compliment. Somehow we’d gone from baby to children. 

I finished lacing Julia’s left skate. I set her blade firm on the spongy-rubber flooring that surrounded the indoor rink. “Tight enough?” I asked. I was grateful that my voice still sounded like me. 

I could tell Julia was carefully observing me and my reaction. Was I going to freak out? Did I want the same things as her in the future?

Julia dropped her scrutinizing gaze from my face down to her feet. She seemed to flex her feet inside of the ice skates. “My circulation has been sufficiently cut off,” she quipped, “so I think we’re good.”

I sat down on the cool metal bench to exchange my own boots for skates. Julia waited for me. She stretched out her legs in front of her, stabbing the back of the rounded blades into the black padded floor.

“You’ve got to let them fall,” I finally spoke.

“Sorry?”

“Kids. When they skate,” I grunted. I shoved my right foot deep into my rented skate. “You can’t always keep them from falling. They’ve got to be able to pick themselves back up, you know?”

I glanced in Julia's direction. Her caramel colored eyes looked a little watery. She rapidly blinked, but a few tears seemed to get caught in her long eyelashes.

“Are you okay?” 

She smiled wetly and wiped away the moisture from her cheeks. “Yes, dear. Thank you.”

“Oh. Okay. Good?” I struggled.

Julia stood from the bench and took a few unsteady steps in her skates. "Come on, soldier. Time to impress me with your skating skills."

I stepped out onto the ice rink and took an initial, tentative stride. I hadn't been skating in a number of years—close to a decade—but I knew that it wouldn’t be long until muscle memory kicked in. Julia shuffled onto the ice behind me. I wondered about the last time she'd been skating. I had a hard time picturing her going ice skating in Embarrass by herself, but maybe she'd gone all the time. 

I flipped my hips and spun on the ice to face her. She stayed close to the ice rink's plexiglass boards with a leather-gloved hand hovering over the waist-high wall.

"How are your skates?" I asked.

She didn't look in my direction. "They're fine."

I dug the front of my blades into the ice and pushed off to skate backwards next to her. Julia’s own steps were small, shaky, and unsure.

"Don't pick up your feet," I instructed. "Let the skates do the work."

I heard Julia's sigh. "Cassidy, you look like a race horse at the starting gate." She waved at me with the gloved hand not ghosting over the hockey boards. "Go skate a few laps and get it out of your system."

"But, I—."

"Go," she told me. "Then come back and skate with me like a regular person."

I assumed Julia wanted to acclimate herself to the new environment without me hovering next to her, so I did as I was told. Despite my better judgment, I left her by the hockey boards to skate a few independent laps. I crossed my right foot over my left to make a sharp, crisp turn around the first corner. The sound of sharp blades cutting into the ice was familiar and comforting, transporting me back to simpler days. Gaining confidence, I skated faster in a wide loop around the oval rink. I bypassed slower, less skilled skaters, but left enough room to not startle them into falling. 

I quickened my pace so that my long, wavy hair flew loose behind me. We were inside, but my speed had created a brisk wind that bit at my exposed skin. I breathed in deeply, enjoying the familiar smell of the cold ice. The distinct scent took me back to my childhood of skating on frozen ponds that my dad had cleared for my cousins and me. We would spend hours on the makeshift rink until our cheeks were red and our toes and fingers were frozen.

I maintained the elevated speed until my upper thigh muscles and ankles began to burn. Ice skating used decidedly different muscles than running on the indoor track at the police academy or swimming in the pool. I slowed down without fully stopping and looked around the rink in search of Julia. The complex was busy for a weeknight, but not so crowded that I might lose her among the other skaters. She continued to skate close to the wall of the rink, but her erect figure appeared more confident than when I'd left her. I crossed the center of the rink with even, elongated strides to return to her side.

I pulled up beside her and skated with my hands behind my back. “Hey, pretty lady.”

“Hey, yourself,” she returned.

"Thanks for letting me get in a few laps. I didn't realize I needed to do that," I admitted. 

"You were practically vibrating," Julia noted. "Jonathan would get the same look when we went skating as a family," she described. "All he wanted to do was go fast."

Julia held out her hand to me. When our fingers loosely intertwined, she let me guide her away from the safety of the plexiglass boards and their brightly colored advertisements. 

"You're doing good," I praised. "You look more confident."

"I might have to come back by myself and practice," she wryly observed. "I had no idea you were such a professional."

"You can let me be better than you at something," I said, only half teasing. "It's allowed."

I heard her scoff. "Not a chance."

I abruptly stopped before a small boy could crash into our legs and take us down like bowling pins. He and a few other children were apparently playing tag, with little regard for the other skaters on the ice.

I saw Julia wobble. Her hands flailed at her sides as she struggled to stay upright. I hooked my arm around her waist to keep her from falling.

"Goodness!" she breathed out in annoyance. "Where are their parents?"

"Sure you want one of those?” I lightly joked. 

“Not one of those specific children, no.”

I let go of Julia's waist when I was confident she'd regained her footing. We continued to skate after our close encounter. Each lap around the rink became a little faster than the one before. Predictably, Julia had pretty much mastered the whole ice skating thing in record time. 

“So what’s next after this?” she posed. 

I twisted my features in mock offense. “What? Ice skating isn’t enough?”

I heard her dark chuckle. “You know it takes much more to satisfy me, Miss Miller.”

Julia twisted to skate backwards in front of me. She'd started to get a little cocky, a little reckless on the ice. Earlier she'd been clutching the edge of the rink like a lifeboat lost at sea, but now she was literally skating circles around me. When she wobbled for a second time, I wasn't quick enough to catch her. Her arms flailed for only a second before she fell onto her backside.

I bit back a laugh. Julia looked stunned as if she couldn't believe her body had betrayed her. "Ouch. Are you okay?"

She wiped her right palm across the top of her jeans, leaving a snowy residue behind. "I guess that's my punishment for bad mouthing your date," she mumbled.

I reached down to help lift her off the ice, but when I grabbed her outstretched hands and pulled, Julia recoiled and cried out in pain. 

“Shit. What's wrong? Are you hurt?” I panicked.

Julia's gloved fingers curled around her left wrist. “Something’s not right.”

I dropped down to my knees, not caring that the icy surface would seep through my jeans. “Here. Let me see,” I urged.

Julia’s body seemed to fold in on itself. Her shoulders hunched forward and she tucked her hands into her waist. “It hurts,” came her quiet complaint.

“I know, baby,” I said gently. “Which is why you should let me see it.”

I was no doctor, but between my time in the military and on the police force, I did have some basic first responder training.

Julia’s painted lips flattened into a pained grimace. She raised her left hand and extended her arm toward me. Others continued to skate around us, providing us a wide berth, but no one actually stopped to help or see if we were both okay. So much for Midwest Nice.

I started at her elbow and worked my way toward her fingers, feeling the solid bones between my probing fingers. When I reached her wrist, Julia hissed and yanked her hand away.

“That’s not good,” I observed with a frown. “I’m guessing a sprain. Maybe even broken bones.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Julia clipped. “I’ve never broken a bone in my life.”

“I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“I’m fine,” she continued to stubbornly resist.

“You have no choice.”

I’d dragged my buddy Terrance Pensacola halfway across an Afghani desert, but I didn’t possess the strength or skating skills to scoop Julia off the ice. I knew she couldn’t sit in the middle of the ice rink forever though. I popped back up on my skates and circled behind her. Dropping to one knee, I ducked my head and shoulders beneath her right arm. When I stood back up, I lifted Julia to her feet.

Thankfully, Julia didn’t continue to put up a fight. I wondered if the shock or the adrenaline from her fall was starting to fade, only to be replaced with pain. Under ordinary circumstances, she would have been unnerved to be making a scene. She must have really been hurt.

We slowly shuffled from the center of the rink to one of the side exits. This time I didn’t ask for permission to take off her skates. After I removed my own, I all but threw our rented skates at the person working at the skate return booth.

Julia looked unsteady trying to put on her ankle-high boots. Again, I didn’t give her the opportunity to reject my assistance. I stooped down and helped her step into the shoes.

I heard her heavy sigh above me.

I looked up to her beautiful face. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“You own me a hot chocolate.”

“Let me take you to the hospital, and I will bathe you in hot chocolate,” I bargained. “Mini marshmallows and everything.”

Julia’s eyes closed and her head tilted forward. “Okay.”

+ + +

Julia was disconcertingly quiet. She held onto her injured wrist, slightly slumped over at the waist. Sitting in the passenger seat of her Mercedes, the color seemed to have drained from her normally light olive complexion.

“We’re almost there,” I spoke aloud. The words were intended to assure her, but probably myself as well.

I had graduated top of my class at the police academy not that long ago. Precision driving had been one of the skills my instructors had found most impressive. But I was no longer trying to stand out from my mostly-male peers. I needed to get Julia to the emergency room.

“Come on, come on,” I muttered at a particularly long red light. I tapped my fingers against the leather steering wheel with impatience.

My palm struck the car horn the moment the light turned green and the car in front of me didn’t move. “Get the fuck off your phone!”

There was no way the other driver could hear me, but I couldn’t help myself.

A light touch to my forearm had me curbing my road rage. “I’m not going to die, darling.”

“I know. But it’s all my fault. We could have done anything, but I’m the one who insisted we go ice skating.”

“It’s not like you suggested we go sky diving, dear.”

We arrived at the hospital a few minutes later. I illegally parked Julia’s Mercedes in front of the emergency room entrance and rushed to the passenger side door. Julia swatted me away when I tried to unbuckle her seatbelt.

“Cassidy. Take a breath.” 

I stood back rather than trying to carry her through the automatic doors. Nervous energy buzzed through my body. It was of the side effects of my PTSD. For other people, once the danger or surprise was over, their body and brain reset. Their hearts no longer raced. They no longer felt panicked. I, however, continued to struggle with my fight or flight reflex.

Julia resumed holding her left wrist close to her body. We walked through the automatic doors together, but once we entered the building, I bolted towards the reception desk.

“My girlfriend hurt her wrist,” I said in a rush. “We were ice skating and she fell. I think it could be broken, but there could be tendon damage, too.”

The receptionist handed me a thin stack of forms attached to a clipboard. “Fill these out.”

I stared dumbly. “But she’s hurt. She needs your help.”

“Fill these out,” the woman told me, “and we’ll get to her in time.”

“In time?” I squeaked.

“Cassidy.” Julia’s voice called to me. I whipped around to see her standing a few feet behind me. “Would you be a dear and park the car?”

Julia Desjardin was the most formidable person I’d ever met. She stomped around court rooms in pencil skirts and skyscraper heels that would have me spraining both ankles. She was fierce. Powerful. Both in public and in private. She’d dominated me in the bedroom more times than I could count. But the woman who stood in the lobby of the Minneapolis emergency room didn’t resemble that person. This version of Julia needed me to get my shit together.

My pulse throbbed in my neck. “Yeah. I can do that.”

+ + +

I had to circle the hospital’s parking structure a few times before I finally found an empty spot. Apparently a Saturday in the weeks leading up to Christmas was prime time for accidents and doctor appointments. Julia had been admitted while I’d driven around, so I’d had nothing to do but sit and wait. Her injury obviously wasn’t life threatening, but that thought didn’t put me at ease. Time passed slowly in the hospital waiting room. I could have gone for a walk—done a few laps around the hospital complex—but I didn’t’ want to miss the moment Julia was released.  

It was late by the time the double doors swung open and Julia reappeared. I immediately stood up on legs made stiff from inactivity. I held two cardboard coffee cups in slightly clammy hands.

Julia walked in my direction. As she approached, my eyes fell to the canvas sling that held her left arm immobile.

I licked my lips. “So?”

“It’s not broken,” she told me. “Just a bad sprain. I’ll be healed up in a few weeks.” She looked at the two cups I continued to hold. “What’s that?”

“Hot chocolate. I got it from a vending machine,” I said. “It’s terrible.”

It had seemed like a cute and funny thing to do at the time, but as it had cooled, the dark liquid had coagulated into a thick, murky mess.

“Will you be terribly offended if I take a raincheck?” Julia posed.

I dumped the untouched cups of hot chocolate into the nearest garbage can.

We didn’t speak on the ride back to Julia’s condo. She let me drive the Mercedes without much fanfare, but I wondered how amenable she would be to me helping her with other things. Grocery shopping? Cleaning? Making meals? Showering? Getting dressed? If she didn’t take it easy, if she pushed herself too hard, she would only end up re-injuring herself. Accepting that one’s body had limitations was hard enough for the average person; how would Julia fare?

When I’d been healing up in the VA hospital once Terrance and I had returned to the States, I’d felt invincible compared to my good friend. The nurses had had a hell of a time keeping me in my bed. I could imagine Julia would be a similarly stubborn patient. Her wrist wasn’t broken—her streak of not having a broken bone was still intact—why in the world would she slow down?

I parked the black sedan in Julia’s designated parking spot in the condo’s underground garage. I waited patiently for her to unbuckle her seatbelt and exit the passenger side of the car. I continually examined her face for signs of discomfort or struggle, but Julia had always had a better poker face than myself.

I didn’t hustle to open doors I knew she could handle or push elevator buttons that she could do herself. She stared straight ahead, stone faced, as we rode the elevator to the upper level condo. I unlocked the front door, but only because I retained her key ring from driving her car. Julia wore her purse slung over her right shoulder. With her left arm secured in a sling, I privately wondered how she would have planned on getting to her keys.

Julia stood in the front foyer and slid out of one ankle boot and then the other. We’d missed dinner, but I no longer had much of an appetite. I watched Julia disappear in the direction of the bedroom. I remained in the entryway, full of indecision. Was I supposed to follow, or was I being too clingy?

I took my time with my own boots and my leather jacket. Julia had uncharacteristically left her shoes in the middle of the entryway; I moved them and lined them up with the other shoes in the foyer.

I’d just hung up my jacket in the front closet when I heard Julia call my name: “Cassidy?”

“Coming!”

The lights were off in the back bedroom. The sun had set hours ago, leaving Julia in the dark. No street lights, not even the moon or the stars, lit up the room. I found her standing in the center of the room, with her head tilted down.

“I’m here,” I announced.

“I need your help.” Her request was small, but important.

 “Of course,” I agreed in a rush. “What can I do?”

I heard her quiet sigh. “Undress me.”

I knew she hadn’t intended for the request to be sexy or intimate, but my breath still caught in my throat. I couldn’t help it; she still gave me massive butterflies.

“I can do that.”

I stood before her in the darkened bedroom. Her sweater was going to be a problem, or at least removing it without jostling her injured wrist, so I started with the top button of her jeans. I unfastened it and slid the front zipper down. I dropped to my knees and gently lifted her right leg so I could remove her sock. I did the same to her left foot. I grabbed the waistline of her jeans and shimmied them down her hips, thighs, and knees. Together, we repeated the same routine to remove her jeans as I’d done with her socks.

I sat up on my knees so I was at her bellybutton level. I lifted the bottom hem of her cashmere sweater. I couldn’t help myself; I leaned forward and softly pressed my lips against the bare skin just above the waistline of her underwear.

Julia dropped her right hand to my hair. Her fingers curled around the chaotic tendrils. I looked up to gauge how she was feeling, but the shadows in the room were too dark.

I peeled the front of her underwear down about an inch and placed another soft kiss against the newly exposed skin. I inhaled and took in the scent of her lotion, her fabric softener, and her womanhood. It was quite possibly my favorite combination.

I pulled down the front panel of her underwear a little more. I pressed a second kiss against her fragrant skin. “Is this okay?”

She breathed out a single word: “Please.”

I slipped her underwear down the rest of her hips and thighs until they fell silently to the floor.

I held Julia by the back of her thighs and pressed my face against her. My eyes shut of their own volition as I held her. I felt the warmth of her body, the solidness of her form. I hadn’t been able to get my emotions in check in the hospital, but now my heartbeat lowered and my mind became quiet. 

Strong, needy fingers in my hair reminded me of my mission.

I nuzzled my nose along the thin strip of closely manicured hair until I reached her slightly protruding clit. I placed a gentle kiss against the tender nub before parting her lips. I swirled the tip of my tongue around the sensitive flesh. Fingers tightened in my hair, and I heard her sharp exhale.

Normally this was the moment where I’d dig my fingernails into her thighs or lift her off the ground and tumble into bed so I could properly fuck her. Instead, I shut my eyes. I slowed my breathing and my heart rate. I alternated between suckling her clit into my mouth and drawing slow, lazy circles with my tongue. 

We'd had sex on practically every surface in her one-bedroom condo. We'd fucked in her law office and her parents' closet, in public parks and police cars. But had we ever done this before? Had it ever been soft and gentle and tender?

I left her sex momentarily to place soft, lingering kisses on her quivering thighs. I gently sucked on the sensitive flesh, but not hard enough to leave a mark.

I pressed the tip of my middle finger against her clit and looked up to her beautiful face. Her dark eyes fluttered shut and her lips slightly parted. I could feel her pulse throb through the sensitive nub. I pressed harder until her hips bucked forward and her thigh muscles twitched. 

I placed another digit at the entrance of her weeping sex and slowly worked my finger inside. She was wet and ready for me. I took my time and slowly drew the single digit in and out. I slowly penetrated her as deep as my finger could reach before unhurriedly withdrawing. 

"Cassidy." She sighed my name like a prayer. The fingers on her uninjured hand curled around the top of my shoulder. "That's perfect. Fuck me. Just. Like. That."

I could never deny her. 

Her pussy muscles tightened around my finger. I resisted the selfish impulse to quicken my pace or intensify the force behind each penetration. I continued the slow but steady tempo between her thighs. 

"Rub your clit," she commanded. "I want to see you cum."

I couldn't bite back my needy whine. 

Obediently, my hand slipped past the waistband of my jeans and wiggled beneath my underwear. My fingers instinctively sought out my clit, which I began to rub with vigor.

I heard Julia's soft cry and the fingers around my shoulder tightened. "Oh God."

I'd never been adept at multitasking. I tried to focus on my patient, measured tempo to bring Julia closer to orgasm, but her breathy cries, her sex clamped tight around my finger, combined with the frantic movement of my free hand against my clit, were making it next to impossible. 

"I'm close," I inelegantly grunted. 

"Me too."

I didn't trust I would be able to get her there if I was preoccupied with my own orgasm. I yanked my hand out of my jeans and fell face forward into Julia's naked sex. I twirled the tip of my tongue around her clit before sucking it firmly into my mouth. I buried my finger deep in her pussy and curled my finger inside her. I pressed the flat of my tongue solidly against her clit and licked her hard, over and over again. 

Fingernails pierced the thin material of my top. "Jesus," I heard Julia's groan. 

I continued to undulate the flat of my tongue against her engorged clit. I drank greedily from her sex as my saliva combined with her arousal. 

Julia' knees buckled as if she was still on ice skates, but this time I successfully kept her upright. I could feel the vibrations of her lower body like a miniature earthquake was rattling her foundation. Her mouth fell open, but no fully-formed words appeared. 

The fingers around my shoulder eventually relaxed, but Julia seemed to slump against me in exhaustion. Her breath came in uneven gasps. "You weren't supposed to do that."

"Make you cum that hard?"

She shook her head. "You didn't get to. You stopped."

"It's okay; I'll survive." I wiped at my cheeks with the back of my hand. "Better than hot chocolate?"

Julia's eyes seemed to narrow at the question. "You're not getting off that easily, Miss Miller."

I couldn't help my cocky grin. "Funny. I thought you were the one getting off easily."

The bedroom was dark with the exception of the pale moon outside. I'd successfully helped Julia exchange her clothes from the day for pajamas. Her nakedness had resulted in a minor delay, but neither of us had minded. I'd put my own pajamas on and had joined Julia in bed. Even though I would never describe Julia as clingy, she never slept completely on her side of the bed, especially after we'd been intimate. She lay with the length of her body tight against my own. Her bare feet pressed against my calf muscles. 

I curled my body to press more solidly against hers. “I know it’s just your wrist, but I kind of wish your doctor had put you on bed rest.”

Julia’s laughter filled my ears. Her arms tightened around me, but I heard a discernable hiss like she’d unintentionally tweaked her injured wrist.

“You’ve got to take it easy,” I told her. “Doctor’s orders.”

Julia sighed deeply. “The one thing I’m terrible at.”

Idle, lazy fingers twisted my already wild curls. Typically Julia need only play with my hair for a few minutes before I passed out from the soothing, rhythmic touch. It was late, and my brain was exhausted from the day's unexpected events. And yet, a single thought bounced around in my head, refusing to let me fall asleep. 

I set my teeth into my lower lip before vocalizing my apprehension. “I’m sorry I freaked out earlier.”

"You did no such thing," Julia denied.

"I wasn't exactly calm," I countered. I continued chewing on the inside of my cheek. "I normally perform much better under pressure."

"I'm sure you're a cool customer on the job," she said, simultaneously stroking my ego and my hair. "It's different when the person injured is someone you know though, someone you love."

I nodded beneath her loving touch. 

“I’m not a delicate thing,” she tentatively started. “But I do love it when you treat me like I am.” 

“Really?” I arched my neck so I could see her face. Her words surprised me. She always seemed too stubborn and proud to truly accept my help.

“Don’t give up on me,” she said. “If you ever feel like I’m shutting you out, call me out on it, okay? But be gentle—like you were on the ice today.”

“I’ll do my best,” I said with a small nod. “But when you get stubborn, my instinct is to retreat and lick my wounds.”

“None of that,” she chided, “unless you’re licking me.”

I was tired, but never that tired.