Ballad (Rockstar #5) (27 page)

“You okay?” I ask.

“Mmm. Yes,” she moans.

“Good. I need you to come now. I can’t last much longer,” I admit.

“Yes,” she whispers, her hands gripping my shoulders. I lean forward, burying my face in her neck, listening to her soft cries of pleasure as I pump into her, and when I start circling her clit with my finger, she holds her breath.

“Breathe, honey.” I reposition myself so her face is against my chest and she holds her mouth against it, moaning as she gets wetter and hotter, bringing me close to the edge. Way too close to the edge.

I use two fingers on her clit, circling faster, her breath coming in shallow pants, her pussy tightening around my cock. I let out a groan.

“Fuck. I can’t hold back,” I tell her, turning her to her back and fucking her faster, harder. Less than a minute later she shatters apart in my arms, her pussy gripping my cock so tight as she bites into my chest to muffle her cries of pleasure.

“God damn it,” I whisper. A few thrusts more and I’m coming inside my wife. That thought alone has me spiraling higher, the pleasure so intense I have to bite my lip from shouting.

“Son of a bitch,” I say when the last bit of cum shoots out my dick, draining me completely. I roll to my side, bringing her with me.

She’s too quiet.

“Did I hurt you? Please say I didn’t hurt you,” I whisper, touching her face.

“You didn’t hurt me. You could never hurt me,” she says as she sniffs.

“Honey, please, don’t cry. Whatever it is, I’ll make it better. I promise.” Panic flows through me. I hate when she cries, it hurts me to see her cry, and I want to fix it.

She snickers. “There’s nothing, Ben. It was just intense.”

“It was,” I admit, getting up from the bed to get a washcloth. I gently clean between her legs, then toss the rag into the bathroom.

I pull my boxer briefs and joggers back on before climbing back into bed.

“Ben.”

“Yeah, honey.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For making today special,” she whispers drowsily.

“I’ll do anything for you, Nicole. Whatever it takes to keep you smiling,” I whisper against her lips before I kiss her gently.

“Forever,” she slurs.

“Forever,” I reply. As I listen to her breathing as she sleeps, my mind drifts to what Sera told me about Frank and his wife. Will they help Nicole? I can’t imagine her aunt not helping, but if it means having their kids tested… that’s dicey right there. The kids are only ten and twelve. That’s so damn young.

I wish someone would find some answers—and soon.

The next day is a nightmare. Nicole’s violently sick to the point she’s vomiting blood. They assure me it’s from the stress of throwing up so often and so hard, but that doesn’t make me feel any better.

I’m going to lose my shit if one more person tells me, “It’s normal.” No way is that fucking normal.

The doctor walks in as I’m wiping sweat from Nicole’s brow and force-feeding her an ice chip. Fuck if I can remember this chick’s name. All I can remember is it’s foreign and it starts with a T.

“I’m sorry your reaction to the increase in medication’s made you so sick, Nicole,” she begins. “I’ve ordered anti-nausea meds and something to help you rest.”

She moans. “This is so bad.”

“I know. I’m going to try to help you feel better right now,” she says as she takes a syringe and pushes medication slowly into Nicole’s IV. “You’re going to get sleepy, Nicole. I’d rather you sleep than keep this up.”

“I agree,” I say. “I don’t know how much more her body can take of this.”

The doctor nods, then takes a second syringe of fluid and pushes it into the IV. “That’s why we’re going to sedate her a bit. We pushed the dose because we might have a potential match.”

Hope. It fills my chest. “Is it someone we know?”

“No, it’s someone on the donor list. We’re running the tests again because it looked close, but close doesn’t work in this situation. We have strict criteria that must be met in order for the procedure to have a chance at success,” she informs me.

I wipe Nicole’s face with a cool cloth as she goes to sleep then sit down in the chair, my elbows resting on my knees.

“So there’s a chance this won’t be successful?” I ask, already hating the answer.

She nods. “There’s always that chance.”

I hang my head.

“She’s a fighter, Mr. Kingston.” When I just look at her, she continues. “Your wife. She’s a fighter. She needs you to stay strong and fight with her. It matters more than you can imagine.”

I nod. “I’ll never give up on Nicole.”

The doctor smiles. “Good. That’s what we like to hear. I’ll be back this afternoon. Nicole should be awake by then.”

I nod. “Thanks.”

The doctor smiles. “I want her to win as much as you do.”

“She will.”

I wake up to the sound of voices and a very stiff neck.

“Mr. Kingston.”

I turn at the sound of an authoritative voice, a voice I don’t recognize.

“Yeah.”

“I’m Dr. Peerson. I’d like to discuss with you and Nicole the process we use to try to find positive donor matches and the results we’ve found so far,” he tells me.

I reach out a hand to shake his and he grips it firmly.

I sit back in the chair and look at Nicole, who’s anxious. It’s obvious by the way she’s biting on her lip. I reach out and rub her bottom lip with my index finger.

“None of that, honey. Just squeeze my hand,” I tell her and she nods, gripping my hand between both of hers and holding it to her chest. Her heart’s beating so fast, but then again, so is mine.

We listen as he goes through all the databases they’ve accessed and how they determine a positive match. I knew it was a thorough process, but I had no idea just how intense it is.

“There’s no room for error,” he tells us and now I completely understand why.

Nicole squeezes my hand now, pretty damn hard for someone who’s so sick.

“The results of the human leukocyte antigen candidates we found hadn’t been very promising. We’d found some that met the HLA criteria, but they either had an infection history that excluded them or some of their characteristics didn’t match well with yours.”

Just like that, all hope fades away. Coley moves her hands—and mine—up to cover her mouth, to quiet her gasp of fear.

“Breathe, Nicole,” he says with a smile. “You didn’t notice I was using past tense, I’m so sorry. I should have just started with the fact that we
did
find a donor and we’re all set for the BMT.”

“Shut! Up!” she yells and I let out a laugh.

“No,” I say, “don’t shut up. Keep giving us good news.”

Dr. Peerson chuckles. “Just a couple treatments left, a few days of rest, and you’ll receive the infusion.”

Nicole’s laughing through tears. “I can’t believe it. I thought for sure…” she breaks off.

“One thing you should know about Dr. Donovan and Dr. Taqneesh is that neither of them give up—ever. They’re tenacious and I have to tell you, they keep those doing the testing on their toes.”

“In other words,” I say, “they’re up their asses until they find the match.”

“That about sums it up,” he says with a chuckle.

“I knew Dr. D was a go-getter, but I had no idea,” Nicole mutters.

“You
should
know. He’s the one who’s been up
your
ass for months,” I correct.

“That’s a fact. He cracks a mean whip.”

“All for a good reason,” Dr. Peerson tells us.

“Yeah,” Nicole whispers.

“Dr. Taqneesh will be back tomorrow and will give you any other information you need.”

“Thanks, doc,” I say, and shake his hand again.

“It truly is my pleasure.”

With that, he’s gone and when the door closes Nicole and I are sitting in silence. She’s staring straight ahead at the door that just closed and I’m looking at her but not really seeing her as I process what just happened.

Her head snaps to the side and she looks at me with a huge smile.

“There’s my sunshine,” I tell her.

“I think I like that,” she says. “I have something to tell you and you might not like it—but you’re going to have to deal with it anyway.”

I raise a brow. “Do I, now?”

She nods. “You do.”

I cross my arms over my chest and lean back in the chair. “All right. Let’s hear it.”

“When I’m well and I see Dr. Donovan, I’m going to give him a big kiss right on the lips!” she tells me with a giggle.

“I might do the same thing,” I tease.

She laughs and laughs, her spirits lifted from where they were.

“I’d pay to see that,” she says.

I shake my head and smile back at her, then move to sit beside her and pull her into my arms, holding her close.

“Finally some good news,” she mumbles against my chest.

I look up, not to the ceiling or to the sky, but to the God I’d prayed to that I’m starting to believe in. “Thank God.”

T
HEY’RE GOING OVER
the potential complications of the procedure with me—again—as a catheter is being inserted to the vein leading to my heart. I’m not going to lie. This is scary—really scary.

A lot of people make note of this date and consider it their rebirth or second chance at life, but I already have that date marked on my calendar. It’s the date when Lucy picked me to be the Blush Baby. That’s the date my whole world changed. Without them there’d be no way I could afford any of the medical care I’m receiving now. Without them, I wouldn’t have the funds available to go to college. Without them, I wouldn’t have learned the lesson Sera taught me—family isn’t always determined by blood. She told me Lucy taught her that when they started adopting these crazy rockers as family. And without them, I’d have never met Ben—my amazingly stubborn husband who, at this very moment, is trying so hard to hide his panic, but he’s failing epically.

“Ben, love,” I whisper and his eyes move from the catheter up to mine.

“Hmm?” he asks, as he stands there, one arm folded across his chest, the other bent upward as he chews on his thumbnail, his gaze trailing back to my chest.

“Stop.”

His gaze snaps back to mine. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Nothing except the fact that you’re going to chew your thumb down to the bone pretty soon,” I tease.