As You Wish

Not quite, but almost.

I fingered her slowly, letting the base of my palm brush against her clit each time I pushed my finger inside of her. The hand on my cock staggered in its strokes as she shifted beneath me, grinding her pussy against my hand.

When I gathered the strength to stop, I brushed her hair off her forehead and kissed her softly before reaching for my nightstand. I might not date or hook up or whatever very often, but there were always condoms in my nightstand. It took half a moment of fumbling, just long enough for Noreen to move up on the bed and make herself comfortable against my pillow, for me to find one, and another moment to unwrap the thing and put it on.

Then I was between her legs, spreading them wide as I positioned myself at her dripping entrance. She looked up at me, eyes wide and needy, and nodded just slightly. That was all I needed; I guided the head of my cock inside of her and watched as her eyes fluttered closed, a blissful look crossing her face.

My first thrust inside her was slow and careful; the next one, harder, and after that, I don't even fucking know. I was completely consumed, knowing only that I needed to make her come, that I needed to feel her clenching around my cock before I could even think of finishing. Her lips were on mine at one point; at another, her fingers were digging into my shoulder and her legs wrapped around my waist. I somehow ended up with an arm underneath her, holding myself up with the other so I didn't crush her as I embraced her as tightly as I could.

When I heard the sound I was waiting for, that was it. She cried out loudly, her voice like music in my ear, breathless whispers that she was coming, oh fuck she was coming. It brought me back into the moment just long enough to lose myself, to burrow my cock inside her as hard as I could while feeling her writhe and clutch at me.

Then I was coming, erupting inside of her as tension released and sensation exploded, gasping as my mind went completely blank and I held onto her like I was about to fall off the edge of the world.

I held her as I tried to catch my breath, her own warm breath coming in quick gasps as she buried her face against my chest. For a while, I simply existed in a beautiful place, holding a beautiful woman in my arms and listening to the beautiful sound of her recovering from an orgasm.

And then, thankfully or not, before I could start thinking with my mind instead of my head, I dozed off.

11 - Noreen

How bizarre was it that I was feeling guilty about not feeling guilty? Because I didn't feel guilty at all about what had just happened. Not even a little, and that bothered me. I couldn't imagine someone being in a more vulnerable position than Jeremy was, and I took advantage of that. Or, at the very least, I didn't let it slow me down.

There were so many issues. Professional constraints that should have held me back. Ethical concerns about him not being in the right frame of mind to make any major decisions. I just helped create something that might distract him from his child when Ethan needed him the most.

And yet... And yet... I didn't care. Maybe he just needed the release? Maybe he just coveted the distraction? Maybe it wasn't a major decision, just something we did and it was over? Maybe there was no professional ethics to worry about since I was effectively out of the position anyway?

There was plenty to think about as I eased away his arm and went to take a shower. But I didn't think about any of that. There was a part of me that had been sleeping for way too long and had begun to stir when Ethan and Jeremy first walked into my office. I had kept pushing it down, trying to force it to stay slumbering as I closed off my emotions so I wouldn't be hurt again.

I saw how he was with Ethan and how could it not affect me? I pushed it down. He looked like he does and it drove me. I pushed it down. He wanted to give back to the people who helped his son, meanwhile he was dealing with more than anyone could be reasonably asked to handle. It moved me. I pushed it down. I saw how his love made him brave when he was going to get on the horse that terrified him. I pushed it down.

My mother saw it. Inda saw it. I saw it, too. But of the three of us, I was the only one pushing it down, smothering it, keeping my emotions sleeping. Because when I allowed myself to feel something, truly feel, it hurt so damned badly. I couldn't keep doing it, so down I pushed.

Then I sat in my car in front of K1, frightened out of my mind, and got the call from his mother. That door that I kept closed came crashing open. I don't remember how I got to the hospital and I was lucky I remembered where I parked. My heart leapt when I saw Jeremy and all I wanted to do was take away his pain.

And maybe, for a little while, I did.

While I showered, I thought about what would make their lives easier. I could have a grocery delivery service fill his fridge and pantry. Nobody going through what Jere and Ethan deal with should live on bologna sandwiches. I could hire a cleaning service to come by once a week and lighten their load a little.

As I rinsed off and the soap washed down the drain, so did my fantasies. They were pleasant daydreams of how I could swoop in and make their lives better, but it was pure hubris. If someone took it upon themselves to hire a cleaner for me and fill my fridge, I'd be insulted and mortified.

Sighing, I held onto the fleeting emotions my flight into fantasy engendered as I wiped the steam-clouded mirror and stared at myself. I couldn't see anything different. I was just... me. But the difference was real. It felt as if, for the first time in a long time, I was awake. Truly awake.

There was an old wooden chair in Jere's bedroom and on the chair was a stack of papers and shoe boxes. The top box was open and held paperwork and receipts. I moved everything to the floor and sat down. I felt bad about moving his stuff, but I wanted to be near him. Sitting there, I watched him sleep for a few minutes before I took out my phone and scoured my emails.

There was nothing from the insurance company.

I found myself staring at him again. Should I have woken him? There wasn't a black and white answer. He'd have probably said yes and rushed back to the hospital. I could have been a coward and texted his mother to get the answer I knew I wanted, but I didn't. She'd have told me to let him sleep and then I could blame her if he was upset upon waking.

Sighing again, I stopped staring and went through my contacts. I had five for the insurance company. I composed the most scathing email I could, cc'd Misha and sent it off. Then I put everything back on the chair, went out to the couch and called them, one by one. I didn't care what time it was. I had the personal numbers for three of them and if they didn't enjoy getting calls while out of the office, they should have been doing their fucking job.

I started dialling.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Jill. This is Noreen from The Wish Mission. I know it's after office hours. Sorry. I wanted to reach out to you as soon as possible since you handle marketing. Just a heads up that if I don't hear tomorrow about our client being covered while on a visit to Spain, I'll be going public about your stonewalling a sick child and I'll demand that you take every mention of The Wish Mission off your advertising, website and marketing. The boy in question is back in the hospital. I understand you're busy but you need to understand my priorities are my clients, and if you delaying means he can't go to Spain, I'm going to have to go to the media. I don't want to do that, but how do you think your company is going to come across when it's plastered everywhere that you've lost us as a client? Can you look into it and get back to me? Thanks."

And I hung up. The hell with it. My replacement could rebuild bridges after I'm gone. The next four phone calls weren't as cathartic, but they still felt good. Not giving a crap gave me a freedom I was enjoying.

Jeremy hadn't asked me to wake him, so I wasn't betraying any trust as I went back to the bedroom and watched him sleep. He was the same, yet different. This was the first time I'd seen him truly relaxed. Jere looked younger and less stern. I eventually went over to the bed and lightly rested the back of my hand on his cheek, smiling sadly.

The truth was that I didn't really know him. I'd like to, yes, but truly knowing someone in his situation was impossible after only a few weeks. However, I knew him well enough to know that he'd punish himself if he stayed away from the hospital too long.

"Jeremy," I whispered.

Brushing his hair back, I spoke a little louder.

"Jeremy."

Inhaling through his nose, he rolled onto his back. "Mmmm. 'Time is it? How long?"

"Ninety minutes. An hour and a half."

There was a pause before he spoke again and I wondered how long it had been since he'd had a proper night's sleep.

"M'kay, just... just a minute. Let me... Ugh. Okay. I'm getting up. Did Mom call? Or the hospital? Did we..."

Swinging his legs over the bed and sitting up, he rubbed his eyes and looked at me while I took him in, from his broad shoulders, to rich chest hair, to tapered waist. He smiled.

"Stupid question. We did. You took a shower?" He yawned. "Ninety minutes? Fuck. You should have... Sorry, it's not your fault. Let me grab another quick shower and we'll head out. Did you hear my phone ring? Sorry I fell asleep."

I brushed back that errant hair again. "I'm not and no, I didn't hear it ring."

Jeremy texted his mother and took the world's fastest shower while I made him another bologna sandwich for the road. He went from bathroom to bedroom sans clothes and I enjoyed the display. He had his wallet between his teeth, keys in one hand and hopping with one leg in his jeans and one out as he made his way into the kitchen. Hurrying, needing to get back to his son.

"I'm sure he's fine. She'd have called if there was anything, right?"

"We don't know that. I should be there."

Getting the other leg in, he pulled up the jeans, put his stuff in the pockets, Jeremy took the sandwich. The worried look was back. I'd be disturbed if it wasn't. There was something else there, too. A light in his eyes that wasn't there before helped me picture what a younger Jeremy must have looked like.

Taking a huge bite, he held up a finger, asking for a moment as he chewed quickly and swallowed.

"Um, so we should talk. Or not, if, you know, you don't... I'm not sure what I'm saying, but I need to get back to the hospital. Do you think maybe you could stop by tomorrow? If you're free?"

"Of course. Should I stop by tonight?"

"We should be okay. Dad should be there by now."

I got it. He needed family around him. "Okay. Tomorrow, then."

Jeremy leaned forward and hesitated, caught halfway between a hug and a kiss. I stepped in and kissed him. He pulled my body close with the hand not holding the sandwich. I could taste the bologna and chuckled. He groaned, smiled, and then stepped out the door. I followed, pulling it shut behind me.

On the way home, I stopped for gas. While waiting, I called Mom.

"Did you eat yet? I was thinking maybe we could watch a movie or something. I'll order Chinese."

"Your father and I already ate, but I can bring some cookies. What time?"

Smiling, I checked the gauge. Halfway full. "About an hour? I'm not home yet and need to get changed."

"I'll see you then."

When I got home, I ordered the food and thought of those sad bologna sandwiches. The delivery woman arrived before Mom, so I set the table and put out two plates. Mom couldn't see me or Dad eating without wanting to try a bit.

There was a knocking and I called out. "It's open!"

She had three types of cookies.

"What are we going to watch?"

"Your choice, Mom. What are you in the mood for?"

She put the cookies on the table and looked at me. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing. Why does something have to be the matter?"

"I don't know. You just look... off."

"It's been a heck of a day. Some good, most bad. Ethan is back in the hospital. I'm not a kid. I know life isn't fair, but this was going to be such a great day for him. You should have seen it, Mom. It was perfect."

"With the Caves of Despair? You were so excited about that."

"Cliffs of Insanity, but yeah. He would have lost his little mind."

"So, talk to me. What's your biggest problem right now that I can help with? Let me take something off your shoulders."

"There's nothing to do but wait, Mom. It's just so frustrating. All I could do is try to be there for Jere and yell at the insurance people about Spain."

"It's Jere, now? Not 'Jeremy' or 'the boy's father'?"

"Mom, don't. Not right now."

"Okay, tell me about the insurance."

"The Wish Mission can't pay for the trip for Ethan to Spain until the insurance company signs off. Kennedy messed up his initial paperwork, so we were late getting them the information and now they're dragging their feet."

"Was it just some generic plan to go to Spain or do you have an itinerary?"

"No, everything was pretty solid. There was wriggle room here and there, but I'd worked out the details."

"Where were you going first?"

I just looked at her and shrugged. "Madrid."

"And then? C'mon, Noreen. We've got plenty of time."

She was right. I filled her in on the trip while I ate. Mom smiled while listening.

"What?"

"I don't know. I just like seeing you when you're like this. You're so much like your father. So passionate, every detail off the top of your head." She shrugged. "I love you and like to see you in your element. Sue me."

We made some tea and carried it and the cookies over to the coffee table. Mom found "Breakfast at Tiffany's" on one of the streaming channels and we settled in for some Audrey Hepburn.

I caught her almost studying me a few times. It was unnerving. "Mom, what?"

"There's something different about you. Did you find a new job already?"

"No. Let's just watch the movie."

"It's definitely something. If you don't want to tell me, that's fine. I'm just your mother. I'll be ready to listen when you're ready to talk."

Just what I needed. Psychic mom coming in hard with the guilt trip.

12 - Jeremy

Noreen was the best kind of distraction in the worst possible way.

She was the best distraction because of course she was. How could she not be? She was gorgeous. Soft lips, intense eyes, a body that was doing its part to reduce the shortage of perfect breasts in this world... not to mention kind and passionate and understanding. Not just about the mass amounts of baggage I had from Ethan's mom abandoning him, but about Ethan in general.

It made sense, obviously. She dealt with people like me for a living. But I wasn't used to someone who didn't take my inability to give her my full attention personally. I wasn't used to someone focusing her attention in the same direction as me, making sure my son was cared for. After waking up and realizing I'd slept for far longer than I intended to, since I hadn't intended to sleep at all, she wasn't upset when I practically kicked her out of my apartment so I could get back to the hospital.

Instead, she made me a fucking sandwich.

She didn't sigh passive-aggressively when I declined having her come to the hospital with me.

Instead, she kissed me goodbye, bologna breath and all, and left me craving the feel of her body against mine.

And that's why I turned down her offer to come to the hospital. Because she was the worst way I could be distracted. Because I got into my truck, drove back to the hospital, and was in the waiting room for approximately twelve seconds before my mom started her interrogation.

"You look different," she said.

"Uh, okay," I replied, sitting next to my dad. "I trimmed my beard after I showered."

"Must have been quite the shower. You were gone for quite a while."

I tried to sound nonchalant, which was where I fucked up. If I hadn't just fucked Noreen, her implication would have annoyed me.

Instead, I tried to act like nothing had happened.

"Yeah. I fell asleep."

"In the shower?" Dad asked.

"No, in bed."

"Just like that?" Mom said.

"Uh, yeah," I said. "I was tired."

"How long did you sleep?" she pressed.

"Jesus, Mom. An hour and a half." I looked at Dad and half-laughed. "Does she interrogate you like this for having a goddamn nap?"

Dad pressed his lips together and tilted his head from side to side. "I mean, an hour and a half for a nap, plus a shower and a beard trim... still doesn't quite add up, Jere."

"Well, I made some food."

"Oh, well," Mom said. "A whole turkey dinner or--"

"A bologna sandwich," I said, unimpressed. "I was not gone that long."

Dad smirked. "Didn't that pretty girl drive you home? Kennedy?"

"Her name is Noreen," I said. "With everything she's doing for Ethan, could you at least be respectful enough to learn her fucking name?"

"Don't swear at your father," Mom said, then glared at him. "Even if he is a shit-for-brains idiot sometimes."

"What?" Dad protested. "You're the one who said you thought he was finally getting laid."

"Yeah, but at least I knew her name was Noreen, not Kennedy."

"Would you two just drop it?" I asked. "Nothing happened. She drove me home."

"Sure, honey," Mom said. "That's why you look more relaxed than you have in--"

"I don't have to listen to this," I muttered, standing up.

"Jere, wait, I was just--"

"Mr. Whitlock?" asked a nurse who had just entered the waiting room.

"That's me," Dad and I said at the same time.

"Dad," I said exasperatedly. "They mean me."

"Right." He shrugged apologetically. "Force of habit."

Dr. Cook was still there because, as I'd learned, doctors and nurses have an inhuman ability to work shifts most would consider impossible at best and tortuous at worst. The nurse brought me to her for an update and I felt guilty at first, assuming that they'd been waiting on me, but really, my timing had just been great that day.

There were no answers, of course, but there was good news. He was stable enough that they were taking him out of sedation. If that went well, they were going to discharge him from the ICU but keep him in another ward for observation, overnight for the very least and possibly longer depending on how things went.

"And what about treatment? How are you making him better?" I pressed, but Dr. Cook was aggravatingly non-committal. He had new meds to take to manage symptoms, but no word on more chemo or radiation or anything. They'd done all the tests they could justify, but wanted to wait until those came back before scheduling him for more if they were needed.

"But what if that takes too long?" I insisted, but she assured me the meds he was taking would be enough.

Enough for what, I didn't know.

I should've asked.

But I didn't because Dr. Cook said I could sit with Ethan while they woke him up and I was eager to get there. He cried a bit, but settled quickly after I placed Spike in his arms. The drugs made him sleepy, so he faded in and out, but that was to be expected. He was asleep when they officially discharged him from the ICU, so while they were moving him to a new room, I went out to talk to Mom and Dad. They wanted to see him, of course, so I led them to a new waiting room and left them there while Ethan got settled.

He was happy to see them, but still tired, so they left after a short visit and a long conversation insisting that I didn't need them to stay the night at the hospital. He wasn't in the ICU anymore, so I didn't have to sleep in a waiting room chair; I was upgraded to the uncomfortable-in-a-different-way wooden armchair beside his bed. Mom wasn't convinced until I caved and agreed that she could bring me dinner from the cafeteria. I ended up with a bowl of chicken noodle that tasted like it was made of fake chicken flavour developed by someone who had never tasted chicken before and a turkey sandwich that paled compared to the bologna one Noreen had made for me.