Exposed to You (22 page)

“The chances are, that’s precisely what I have. I am going to get sick at times, you know. I’m not any different from anyone else,” she said, smiling ruefully. “The thing of it is, though, my glands are swollen.”

Seth stiffened.

“Which is completely normal if I have a viral infection,” Joy assured him quickly. “But given my history, and the fact that I’m having some chest pain and fever—both of which are also consistent with a flu bug in addition to early lymphoma signs—the doctor thinks I should get a biopsy on a lymph gland, just to be sure.”

“Okay,” Seth said quickly. He glanced around the room. “So they’re going to admit you?”

“I’d rather have it done in Chicago. I put a lot of time and research into choosing Dr. Chen,” she said, referring to her oncologist. “It’d make me feel more secure doing it there.”

“We’ll leave first thing in the morning, then?”

“I will.”

Seth flinched. “We both will. Of course we both will.”

“Listen to me,” she said firmly. “The chances are that this is nothing. I want you to understand that. I’m just playing it safe. Rill’s costume designer is flying in tomorrow specifically to consult with you about
Razor Pass
. Both Rill and she would be disappointed if you weren’t there.”

“I don’t care if Rill’s disappointed,” Seth said, looking insulted.

“I do. This is a wonderful opportunity for Hightower Special Effects. I won’t allow you to compromise anything by leaving Vulture’s Canyon early when there’s no need for it.”

“No, absolutely—”

“Do you have any idea of how guilty I’d feel if you abandoned this job because I have the flu?” Joy interrupted fiercely.

Seth hesitated, seeming torn.

“It’s not a big deal, Seth. Please don’t make any more of it than it is. I really need your cooperation on this.”

“What about Everett?” Seth asked slowly. “Are you planning on telling him why you have to leave early?”

“No,” Joy said, holding Seth’s gaze. “And I’m asking you, as a personal favor, to please not say anything to the Pierces or to Everett. I’ve had a wonderful weekend here so far. I’d rather leave it at that.”

A pained expression crossed Seth’s face. “Joy, I’m not so sure Everett is going to accept that. I think he really cares about you.”

Joy swallowed. She told herself the soreness in her throat was from her swollen glands. “You and I both know this thing between Everett and me was just a blip on the radar. What else could it be, really? Him being who he is. Me being who I am.”

“Does that mean you don’t care about him?”

“It doesn’t matter, does it? In the end?” she asked quietly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Seth demanded. The edge to his tone made anger rise in her, a sort of desperate fury.

“It means that even if my cancer hasn’t returned today, it may tomorrow, or next month, or next year!”

Seth’s mouth fell open in surprise. “That’s what you’re worried about? So what—you think Hughes wouldn’t be able to handle something like that?”

“It means I don’t
want
him to handle it,” she said so forcefully that Seth blinked. She hadn’t meant for any of this to come out now, but she didn’t seem able to stop the deluge of honesty. Something about these circumstances, about the terrifying possibility—no matter how remote—that her cancer had returned, about the fact that Everett was sitting out in the waiting room, wondering and worrying, seemed to have blown the cap off her restraint. “God, Seth, don’t you get it? I wouldn’t wish what we had to go through with Mom, what you had to go through with me, on my
worst enemy
.” She shook her head, fighting back unwanted tears. “You and Mom were always so angry at Dad for leaving, but I never was. Don’t you get why?”

“I guess not,” Seth said, stunned.

“Because I completely understand him,” she burst out. Tears skittered down her cheek. “Because if I’d been an adult and could make my own decisions,
I
might have chosen to leave, too. Who would want to witness all that suffering, all that pain? Who would
choose
to sit by and watch someone they love slowly waste away, eaten alive by a foul, meaningless disease?”

“You don’t mean that, Joy,” Seth said grimly. “You’re sick. You’re not thinking straight.”

“I know precisely what I’m thinking!”

“You were old enough to choose not to be at Alice’s side as much as you were.”

“I had no choice,” she bit out.

“If you had no choice, it was because you loved her so much,” he said sternly. “That’s not the same thing as being forced into something.”

A convulsion of emotion shuddered through her. God, had all the pain and grief associated with her mother really been just beneath the surface all along, fresh and sharp? Seth stood and grabbed a box of Kleenex. She sobbed, taking one of the tissues when he offered it.

“It doesn’t matter. None of that has to do with what’s happening right now,” she managed in a more subdued tone, wiping her cheeks.

“The hell it doesn’t.”

She looked up at Seth. He stood next to her, his expression a mixture of compassion and concern.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, wishing she could make him understand what she meant by those three words, all the love she had for him, all the regret and guilt she felt for adding to his suffering.

A muscle rippled in his cheek.

“Don’t you know how much you mean to me? You’re my family. I’d do anything for you,” he said.

Joy shut her eyes and took a deep breath.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “Thank you so much.”

“I think Everett would want to know. I had some words with him. I was wrong to doubt his intentions in regard to you. They seem genuine. I think you should tell him. He deserves the opportunity to choose, as well.”

She wiped her eyes dry and threw the tissues into a waste can. She stood and faced her uncle.

“No,” she said. Seth opened his mouth to argue, she was sure, but she halted him. “Please respect me in this. Please don’t take away whatever control I have in this situation.”

His stony countenance crumpled for a brief second.

“Just follow my lead in whatever I tell him is my reason for leaving,” she pleaded.

“Jesus, Joy,” he muttered, sounding pained.

“It’ll all be fine. You’ll see,” she said.

After a moment, he nodded once. “But you’ll call me and tell me as soon as you get into Chicago and tell me when you plan to go to the hospital? I’ll meet you there as soon as I finish up here on Monday.”

“I’ll have to take the car.”

“Not a problem. I’ll drive into St. Louis with Rill when he goes to pick up Amanda Garcia,” he said, referring to the costume designer arriving tomorrow. “I’ll pick up another rental car then.”

She gave him a thankful glance. “I have one other favor to ask of you while you’re in St. Louis tomorrow,” she said as she picked up a notepad and pen that were sitting on the little desk. After she’d jotted down a note, she tore the paper off the pad and handed it to a bemused-looking Seth. His bewilderment faded to a solemn expression as she told him what she wanted.

A few minutes later she led him out of the exam room, steeling herself for the task of seeing Everett and convincing him that all was well during their last night together.

Sixteen

Joy dropped her hands from her neck when Everett rapped on the bathroom door. Her glands really were quite swollen.

“Come in,” she called. She’d left the door open a crack. He stuck his head into the opening.

“You doing okay?” he asked.

“Yes. I was just getting ready for bed.”

He walked into the large bathroom. He wore nothing but a pair of dark blue pajama bottoms, the drawstring tightened low on his hips. She glanced over him, not hiding her appreciation, not guarding against her desire.

Not tonight.

His gaze dropped over her. “Another new gown?” he asked, touching the black lace strap on her shoulder and caressing her skin in the process. “I like this one even better.”

“Thanks,” she said softly. Their gazes clung before something caught his attention on the counter.

“So this is the medication the doctor prescribed?” he asked, picking up a bottle.

“Yes, it’s not much of anything. Just something to help soothe my throat. The Tylenol has already brought down the fever,” she said. A prickle of wariness went through her when she noticed his narrowed gaze on her.

“And that’s why you called Seth from the waiting room,” he clarified. “Because you wanted him to go and pick up throat spray at the pharmacy.”

Joy nodded, forcing a smile. “I thought it’d make things go quicker to have him do that while I got dressed and checked out.”

“It’s probably just my imagination, but Seth seemed awfully tense tonight.”

“Really?” Joy asked, busying herself by pumping some scented lotion into her palm and rubbing it into her skin. “I told you how much he worries about me.”

“Yeah,” Everett said thoughtfully. “Almost as if he thinks there’s something significant to worry about.”

She paused in the action of rubbing the lotion on her arm. She met his gaze in the mirror.

“He’s like a father and brother to me. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t worry if Katie got sick.”

He said nothing. Joy resumed applying the lotion, working her way up to her shoulder. She felt his sharp observation the entire time.

“Let me,” he said after a moment. He pumped some of the lotion into his hand. “Lower your straps.”

A shiver coursed down her neck at the sound of his low, rough voice. She brushed the straps off her shoulders, watching him in the mirror as he lifted his hands. He began to massage the lotion into her shoulders and upper back, squeezing her muscles, using his fingers to knead away the tension that had grown there over the course of the evening.

“Feel good?” he asked when she gave a muffled groan of appreciation.

“Fantastic,” she said, letting her eyelids flutter closed. His hands felt warm and strong; her flesh seemed to melt beneath them. He touched the side of her neck with a long, questing finger. Her eyes opened. She met his stare in the mirror.

“Sore?” he asked.

She nodded. He moved his fingers in a gentle quest, watching himself touch her.

“Your glands are swollen,” he murmured.

She nodded. “Yes. The doctor noticed.”

He looked at her again in the mirror. Joy stared back at him unblinkingly. Slowly, his massaging hands moved back to the slope of her shoulders.

“How do you feel right now?”

“I feel fine, now that the Tylenol has taken down the fever.”

He nodded. His thumbs dug pleasurably around her shoulder blades, loosening tense muscles. Suddenly, he put his hands on the drooping straps on her black negligee and slid them down her arms, lowering the garment. The fitted silk dragged across the upper slope of her breasts until her nipples popped out from beneath the fabric. She lifted her hands free of the straps. Everett pushed the gown several inches beneath her breasts.

Her nipples stiffened as she watched him pump more lotion and rub the emollient between his hands, warming it. Liquid warmth surged between her thighs when he cupped her breasts and tenderly began to rub the lotion into her skin.

“It’s hard to believe that skin can be this soft,” he murmured from behind her. He cradled both breasts in his hand, lifting them, gliding his warm fingers along the lower swell of flesh. Her nipples darkened to the color of ripened raspberries. His fingertips touched the reddened crests. She stifled a whimper as he circled the beading tips. “Look at that,” he muttered, a hint of awe in his tone. “So amazing. So beautiful.”

Something volatile tightened in her throat. For a panicked moment, she thought she was going to burst into tears like she had earlier with Seth. Instead, she spun around, facing him.

“I want to be the one to touch you.”

He blinked. Joy realized she’d sounded quite fierce. His small shrug and slightly stunned expression seemed to say,
By all means, don’t let me stop you
. She smiled when she saw it.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, her head down as she pumped some of the lotion into her hands. “I just meant—you’re always making love to me, taking control of the situation.” She put her palms together in preparation to warm the lotion and looked up at him, her hands in a partial praying position. “I want to make love to you tonight.”

She laid her hands flat on his abdomen. His muscles leapt beneath her touch. She paused, feeling all the life and vibrancy contained in his flesh. She’d never seen a more beautiful man in her life.

She never would again.

Slowly, meticulously, she made a study of his body, rubbing the lotion into his narrow, lean waist and his ribs, feeling his chest rise and fall more erratically beneath her palms as she stimulated his small, erect nipples with her fingertips. Her arms rose as she moved to his shoulders. She glanced up into his face as she massaged dense deltoid muscles. His lips parted when their gazes met. He moved forward, as if to kiss her, but she moved her head back slightly and continued her exploration, rubbing the cords between his shoulders and neck. His nostrils flared slightly, his expression telling her loud and clear he did not like to be deprived when he saw what he wanted.

She arched her eyebrows and gave him a small smile. Tonight she would not be hurried in the process of touching him . . . of loving him. She massaged his rigid arm muscles, feeling his gaze on her movements the entire time. Looking down, she saw the pillar of his stiffened penis pressing against the cotton fabric of his pants. When she’d finished his arms, she gently urged him closer to the mirror so that he was watching her touch him. She moved behind him, one arm snaking around his waist where she touched his ridged belly, the other massaging corded back muscles. Little lotion remained, but she didn’t want to stop touching him. The skin covering his shoulder blades was so smooth, so thick, that she gave in to an urge to feel it against her cheek, and then against her lips. She pressed her naked breasts against his back.

He started to turn to take her into his arms.

“Don’t move.” She spoke softly next to his skin. She reached around and pulled on the drawstring of his pants. He froze. Both of her hands slipped beneath the waistband, her palms sliding against the sides of his firm, powerful buttocks. She released the fabric and it gathered around his thighs.

Joy moved her head around his arm and gazed in the mirror. His cock hung like some type of glorious, fertile fruit between his thighs, the tapering, fat head pinker than the light gold, straight shaft. Holding her breath, she reached around his hip and took the heavy member into her palm, wrapping her fingers around the stalk. He throbbed into her hand, the weight of the firm flesh thrilling her. She moved her fist, stroking him. When she reached the head, she squeezed it between the constricted ring of her fingers.

“Joy,” Everett groaned.

Her gaze flashed up to meet his in the mirror. He wasn’t watching her hand on his cock, but her face as she touched him. Keeping his penis in her hand, she moved to the side of him. She ran her hand along his length to the base, where she cupped his heavy balls and gave them a gentle squeeze.

“Let’s go to bed,” he said roughly.

“Wait,” she whispered, her hold on him making her demand difficult to ignore. She fisted him again and gave a good jerk. She recalled how forceful he’d been when he’d stroked his cock while she sucked on the head last night. It had been exciting to see him treat his own flesh almost aggressively. She gave him a few more lusty yanks. His guttural moan told her she’d been right. Everett didn’t like his cock to be treated with kid gloves. She beat at the tumescent member for a taut moment, watching in fascination as the veins popped on the surface and the shapely head took on a purple hue.

“I think they call that abuse,” Everett mumbled. She glanced up at him, pausing with her fist at midstaff. His jaw was rigid.

“What do you call it?”

“Heaven.”

She smiled. He grunted in irritation when she released her hold, but held his tongue when she grabbed the vanity stool beneath the countertop and pulled it toward him. She sat, her profile to the mirror. Without any preamble, she put her hands on his hips and turned him toward her. She wanted him to be able to watch in the mirror, if doing so would bring him pleasure. His pants slid to his knees. She took his penis into her hand, and for a moment just stared, absorbing the sight. She wanted to be mindful. She wanted to remember this moment.

Everett hissed something unintelligible when she lifted his cock and slid the head into her mouth. The firm, warm flesh stretched her lips. His flavor spread on her tongue. She closed her eyes and sucked. His musky, salty taste filled her consciousness; his turgid penis became her whole world. Her jaw ached and her lips screamed for a reprieve, but she wouldn’t stop. It was as if his pleasure had been mainlined into her veins, as if his gratification had become her own. When the head of his cock slid into her throat and her body jerked in a reflex to expel him, she overcame even that, sacrificing herself to his bliss.

“Joy,” he said sharply.

She blinked open her eyes dazedly. Had he been calling her name repeatedly, and only the last exclamation had fractured her focus? Tears were running down her cheeks. She leaned back, Everett’s stiff member sliding from her mouth. She looked up the length of his naked body and froze when she saw his expression. His nostrils flared; his eyes looked wild.

“How can you give yourself like that and claim this thing between us is meaningless?”

She swallowed thickly. Her throat hurt badly. Perhaps he noticed her grimace, because his intense, almost angry expression softened. He kicked off the pants that had pooled around his ankles and grabbed her hand. He led her to the bedside table where he picked up a bottle of water.

“Drink some,” he said.

The cool water felt delicious sliding down her tender, raw throat.

“Your cheeks are flushed again.” He touched her forehead. “I think your fever is back,” he said grimly. He tossed back the comforter and sheet. “Go on. Get into bed,” he said when she just stood there. He sighed and drew up her negligee over her breasts. “You need to sleep. I shouldn’t have let that happen.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. My cheeks aren’t flushed because of a fever,” she rasped.

“It sounds like you’ve swallowed sandpaper,” he said, his brow furrowed with worry. “Get into bed, Joy. Please?”

Instead of following his demand, however, she opened the bedside table. She’d observed that Everett kept some condoms in there. She withdrew one and tore it open.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, grabbing her wrist when she moved to roll it on his penis.

“I told you. I want to make love to you,” she said, glancing up. “Please.”

She saw his throat convulse. His hold on her loosened. Joy rolled on the prophylactic. When she’d finished, she waved toward the bed. “Sit down with your back against the headboard. Please,” she added softly when he gave her a blazing glance. He said nothing, but did as she asked.

“What are you planning on doing?” he asked when she lifted her gown and straddled his thighs. She took his cock into her hand and arrowed it into her pussy. She was wet—very wet—but at first, her vagina seemed to resist the intrusion of a thick, hard cock. She gritted her teeth and clung on to Everett’s shoulders. He grasped her hips. Her cry segued to a shaky whimper as she applied a solid pressure and his cock carved into her body.

“Jesus, Joy,” Everett mumbled. His head fell back against the padded headboard. He looked as if he’d just had a workout at the gym. Every muscle on his torso was defined, tensed and glazed with a sheen of sweat. She sat in his lap, her body harboring the length of his penis.

“Do you remember that night of the premiere, when we made love and you said you’d wanted to connect to me?” she whispered throatily.

“Of course.”

“I want to do something similar now. Let’s talk.”

“Talk?”
he asked, looking disbelieving.

“Yes. That’s a tantric sex thing, isn’t it? We’re supposed to keep ourselves on the edge of arousal for as long as possible. Talk. Commune. Share ourselves, and when . . .”

She swallowed thickly when her voice broke.

“Joy?”

She continued more firmly. “When the end finally comes, it will be all that much more special.”

She met Everett’s stare determinedly. “It’s what I want. I’m not afraid to feel close to you, like I was on that night. I’m not afraid of your honesty.”

“You said I overwhelmed you.”

“Tonight, I want to be overwhelmed.”

He moved his hands on her hips. His cock swelled inside her.

“What should we talk about?”

“Anything. What was the happiest day of your life?”

He blinked. “I’d like to think it hasn’t happened yet,” he said slowly. He gripped her hips and moved them in a subtle circular motion. She gasped. He grimaced. “This isn’t going to work, Joy. Your fever—it’s making you so hot. It’s like being buried in a tight fire.”

“Focus,” she whispered. His gaze flickered over her face.

“Well, if it weren’t for you getting upset about Jenny and getting sick, I’d say today was pretty damn awesome.”

She smiled.

“What about you?” he asked.

She closed her eyes briefly, willfully resisting an almost overwhelming urge to ground her pussy down in his lap to get pressure on her throbbing clit.