I nodded. “Okay, but come here first. Bring your face closer to me.”
Georgia leaned so we were nose to nose. My arms felt like they weighed three-hundred pounds, but I managed to lift one to her cheek. Her eyes glistened with happiness. “I love you, too, sweetheart.”
She clutched her chest. “You heard me tell you that?”
“Of course. That’s what kept me fighting.”
? ? ?
Eight days later, I finally left the hospital. It took another week to get my family to go back home. I felt bad that they’d all been away from their lives for a month, but I also couldn’t wait to be alone with Georgia.
My walking wasn’t so great yet. It was going to take me a long time to build up my strength, so I stayed on the couch while Georgia walked the last guest out. When she came back, the house was quiet. She walked over to me.
“You hear that?” I said.
Georgia looked around. “No, what?”
I yanked her arm. “The sound of you moaning.”
She giggled. “I don’t think I was moaning.”
“I guess it was just a premonition.” I fingered the button of her jeans. “Why do you have so many damn clothes on?”
“Umm… Maybe because your brother just walked out the door two seconds ago?”
I unbuttoned her pants. “I hope you locked the damn thing.”
“You’re not supposed to do anything strenuous for four to six weeks.”
“That’s four to six weeks post-surgery. It’s been more than thirty days. We’re in that window.”
Georgia bit her lip. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I won’t. You know why?”
“Why?”
“Because you’re going to do all the work. Ride me, sweetheart.”
I saw that familiar fire ignite in her eyes. “Okay, but you really need to let me do all the work. You can’t top from the bottom, Max.”
I made an innocent face and wrapped my hand around her throat like I knew she liked. “Who, me?”
We shed our clothes in a frenzy. Georgia first, and then she helped me undress. I could’ve managed myself, but I loved seeing her on her knees on the floor in front of me, yanking at my pants. Her fingernails scraped my thighs as she pulled off my boxers, and then she climbed on top and straddled me. I felt the wet heat of her pussy up against the bottom of my shaft.
“I want you,” I groaned. “I fucking need you.”
“I need you, too.”
Georgia put her hands on my shoulders and lifted to her knees. I reached between us, fisted my cock, and dragged the head across her wet opening. She smiled, leaning in to kiss me as she lowered herself. It took every shred of willpower I had not to buck my hips and take over. The urge to fuck her into oblivion had my arms shaking.
She noticed. “Are you okay?”
“Never better, sweetheart.”
She took a minute to steady herself and then began to rock back and forth, penetrating so damn deep. It felt like heaven and hell all rolled into one. This woman was the love of my life, and it was torture to hold back.
She arched her back, grabbing hold of my knees behind her, and gyrated her hips. When she moaned my name, I lost it. I fucking lost it. Screw taking it easy. If I was going to die, I wanted to die exactly as I was—with myself planted to the root inside the woman I planned to spend the rest of my life with. So I started thrusting, meeting her every rock with a roll and falling into the rhythm that was only ours.
“Max…” she yelled.
“Right there with you, baby.”
We chased the edge together. Nothing had ever felt so good. So right. So real. Georgia squeezed me harder, her fingers digging into my hair as she spoke my name over and over. Then her eyes rolled back in her head, and I watched the orgasm pull her under. When her body started to go slack, I thrust up one last time and let go.
After, we were both panting. It might’ve only lasted a couple of minutes, but it was the best damn orgasm of my life. Georgia slumped into my lap, and I stroked her hair.
“Are you okay? Any pain?” she whispered.
I kissed the top of her head. “I’m good. I promise.”
She sighed. “You know, I’m still mad at you.”
“If that’s how you show me mad, I’ll be sure to piss you off plenty.”
She slapped my shoulder. “You dumped me. And broke my heart.”
“I know. And I promise I’m going to spend every day making it up to you.”
My brother had told Georgia that right before everything happened, I’d made the decision to have surgery. But I realized she probably didn’t know how I’d come to that decision.