Nature Of Desire: Worth The Wait Part 37

"Be careful of your IV."

"It's on the other side. I've managed a pump for years. I can handle some attached tubes."

He tipped up her chin and kissed her hard, palm smoothing down her back to cup her b.u.t.tocks. She'd worn snug jeans with a gauzy pink and fawn colored top over it and a camisole beneath. She was all silky curves from the waist up, and tight, thin denim below. He conveyed his appreciation with hands and mouth, until she felt arousal not only stir, but jump up a couple notches.

The last time he'd made love to her, his energy had been low, but it had been all the sweeter because they took it slow, a mutual caressing and lots of kisses that progressed to her sliding on top of him, guided by his grip, the shift of his body. He'd huskily commanded her to lower herself onto his c.o.c.k. As she did, he'd wrapped his hands around her wrists, holding her in sensual restraint, her arms on either side of her, wrists pressed to her sides as she rose and fell, the pinnacle building until they shuddered through it together.

Now he broke the kiss but held her hard against his body. Taking her hand, he guided it beneath his gown to grip him firmly, her fingertips brushing his b.a.l.l.s, her fingers coiled around his semi-turgid shaft. He pushed into her hold, closing his own hand over it, then brought her palm back to a more public-appropriate location on his chest.

"Just wanted to go in with a reminder of what's most worth living for."

"And, since you didn't have a bag of carrot sticks close to hand, you made do with the second best thing."

"Ah, a woman who understands me."

She chuckled and held onto the humor, though it took effort when she heard a gurney and a blink later saw an orderly and Sal at the door, along with Betty.

"That's my ride," Des said, helping her off the side of the bed as he sat up. Squeezing her hand, he rose, tall and strong, her Master, her Des. He brushed a kiss over her lips. "See you in a bit, love."

"You bet." This wasn't a life-threatening surgery, not the actual surgery itself, so she wasn't going to cry. She smiled for him. Though he didn't smile back, seeing all the things churning inside her, she knew he was glad to see her smile. He leaned in and spoke against her ear.

"You'll do something for me?"

"Anything."

"And here I am going into surgery." His eyes sparked at her. Then he sobered. "It doesn't matter what happens during or after this surgery. I made this choice, and Betty's right. It's the best one I've got to have a normal life with you. So whatever happens, there are no regrets. We're rolling the dice and seeing if we'll get lucky. Got it?"

"Got it."

"I love you. I look forward to saying that to you every day for the rest of my life." He touched her face and straightened as Betty slid into the room.

"Hey, I've got cupcakes," she said, waving two she had on a brightly colored plate. "A patient's family dropped them by for the nurses. Homemade yellow cake, b.u.t.ter cream chocolate icing."

"You are a very cruel woman," Desmond said. "You hear my stomach growling?"

"You've always said my main joy in life is torturing you." Betty set the treats aside and wrapped her arms around him for a hug as Julie stepped back to give them room.

"No one does it better." But he held onto her an extra moment and Julie heard what the nurse whispered to him.

"I'm so proud of you, son," Betty said.

"Same goes," he returned, touching her face. "I've always been glad you're in my corner. Even when I don't act like it."

Betty's eyes glistened, but she covered it by moving around the bed and helping Sal, taking the IV off its hook and handing it to him to transfer it to the gurney as Des boosted himself onto the transport.

"I'll give you a twenty if you do a two wheeler around the corner," he told the orderly, a large black man whose name tag said Paul. Paul gave him a dubious but humorous look.

"You're only wearing that gown, man. Not sure I want a twenty bad enough to take it from where you have to be hiding it."

"Smart man." Des did a fist b.u.mp with him and stretched out. "But if you change your mind, I'm good for it."

As the nurse adjusted the covers, Des looked toward Julie again, then shifted his glance to Betty. Now the look on his face was one she recognized, the face of her Master, protective and in charge, despite all evidence otherwise. Her heart swelled in her chest, creating pain and joy at once.

"Take care of my girl, Betty. Don't let her worry."

"I won't. I love you, stubborn boy. See you in a bit, with your fancy new kidney."

"The kidney of a famous artist, no less." Des linked his hands behind his head and tossed Julie an arch look. "It might elevate my rope work to a whole new level. At the very least, I'll probably p.i.s.s more artistically. Like in loops or swirls or something."

"Just so long as you keep it inside that porcelain circle," Julie said dryly. "Else this relationship won't last."

He winked. "That ship is going to sail in a few seconds anyway, because Sal's taking out the booties and paper hat. My irresistible s.e.x appeal will be shattered beyond repair."

"You're going to totally rock that look," she said fiercely.

Though of course he looked as foolish and sweetly vulnerable as every patient did. Julie managed to brave face it until they wheeled him off and the door closed with a quiet whoosh. Betty's arm slid around her as Julie bit back a little tremble of reaction.

"He'll be fine," the nurse said firmly. "They took your friend up a few minutes ago. Why don't we go hang out in his room with his family? I'll let the nurse desk know where to find us. Dr. Pindar is the absolute best at this in the Charlotte area. Des is in great hands."

"I know. I'm just being stupid. Why didn't I say I love him, too?" She would have chased down the gurney like a melodramatic novel heroine, but Betty caught her arm.

"Because he already knows. And because you'll tell him when he wakes up, when it will mean even more." Betty touched her face. "You remember when we met, you told me you've waited a long time to find the right person for you?"

Julie nodded. Betty looked toward the door as if she, too, were following the progress of the gurney with her ears. "What you may not realize is, despite how much he tried not to let it happen, he's waited a long time for someone, too. No matter how much more time this gives him, Julie, you're the one who saved his life. You gave him a reason to want to live for himself." She linked arms with Julie. "And in my book, that makes you a real life miracle."

Betty's advice was sound. Julie, Marcus, Rory, Elaine and Betty hung out in Thomas's room, providing one another needed support and company. Though Des had checked into the hospital the night before, it was Betty's pull and Marcus's wealth that had obtained Thomas an a.s.signed room before his surgery, and Julie was grateful for the gathering s.p.a.ce. Daytime TV droned in the background while they talked and made runs to the cafeteria for bad, high calorie snacks. They discussed the hardware store, how Les was doing in medical school, Julie's impressions of Charlotte...an a.s.sortment of random topics that helped fill the time and turn minds away from worrying.

Eventually, Elaine started asking Julie and Betty questions about Des. Julie could see Marcus was absorbing the information as intently as Elaine, probably to fill Thomas in later, but he was curious for his own sake.

Julie was part of that rapt audience when Betty offered a more detailed picture of the boy and young man Des had been. Though the shrewd nurse kept them distracted with the stories, Julie saw Marcus check his watch more than once. A couple times he rose and paced the hall when it was obvious he was too restless to be still. The first time he did it, Elaine caught his hand as he pa.s.sed her and squeezed. He answered that pressure and bent to drop a kiss on her head.

"Don't go far," she said. "You know Thomas doesn't want you smoking."

Despite her own worries, Julie hid a smile. Elaine knew enough about Marcus to know he smoked when he was tremendously agitated.

"I'll just be out in the hall," he said, brushing her cheek with a light knuckle, his way of rea.s.suring her.

Betty handed the ball back to Julie and she entertained Elaine and Rory with her stories of Des's "Slinky" routine on the roof, his Type I kids like Mylo and people at the theater like Billie. She tactfully stayed away from the specifics of their performances. Julie was sure Elaine knew it was erotic in nature, since she avoided asking for details a person would normally ask about the productions. However, Julie knew she wouldn't be comfortable with open discussions about it, so she tactfully stayed away from that. As always, though, Elaine was supportive, lauding Julie's success in getting the theater up and running.

"Do you have any other pictures of Des?" Elaine asked her at length.

"Oh, I..." She didn't. She didn't have a picture of him. Not even the one Thomas had taken at the restaurant that night. Why hadn't she told him to send it to her? Here she was, doing what she was doing, feeling for Des the way she did, and she didn't even have a snapshot of him on her phone.

"Hey." Betty put a hand over hers, as if sensing the tsunami of emotion the simple request had provoked. "It's okay. I do. I have plenty." Reaching into the canvas tote she had with her, printed with whimsical purple flowers on the outside, she drew out a slim photo alb.u.m that looked new. "I copied the pictures I've collected of him over the years and made you an alb.u.m, Elaine. I figured his aunt and cousins would want them, or at least be interested."

"Oh." Elaine's face lit up. "How very kind of you."

Marcus had returned from his latest pacing, so he moved next to Julie as Betty shifted to sit next to Elaine. Rory rolled his wheelchair over to the other side of his mother to see, since Betty put the photo alb.u.m in Elaine's lap. Marcus slid his arm around Julie and brushed his lips against her temple as the two women began to talk about pictures of Des, starting from his first intake picture at the boys' home, and the infant pictures from the hospital. Julie wanted to see them, too, but right now she needed Marcus's strong arm more.

"I know he's going to be fine today," she said softly, combatting the coil of desperation in her gut. "There's more potential for complications afterward, really. Infection, rejection, all that. But that's the thing. I can't stop worrying about a million things that might have made yesterday the last day we had for him to feel like himself, be himself, be the person I love... We're still so new to all of this."

G.o.d, was that what worried her? That he'd come out of that surgery no longer Des?

She hadn't meant for anyone else to hear her, but Elaine had incredibly sharp ears. She stopped and looked up. "Loving someone isn't like loving a painting, dear. It's like loving a garden. A lot of hard work, and some things thrive, while others wither and die, but those fertilize the rest. And things always, always change, from season to season."

She reached over the alb.u.m to take Julie's hand and hold it. Betty watched the interchange with quiet approval and agreement in her expression.

"But your love for your garden, all it's been, and all it can be, never changes." Julie could tell from Elaine's fond, wistful expression she was thinking of her late husband. "You can't predict how it will work for you and Des. Only time and G.o.d can help you figure that out. Just don't lose your faith in love. It's one of the strongest, most wonderful things about you, and I'm sure that's a big part of what Des sees in you as well."

Hearing the wisdom of an older generation was as rea.s.suring as Marcus's arm around her shoulders. Elaine gave her hand one more pat before returning to the alb.u.m. "Look at him there. Twelve years old... Oh my."

Elaine's eyes abruptly filled with tears, alarming all of them as she fingered the teenage picture of Des. In the earlier pictures, his hair had been short, an incompatible look with his features, though Julie suspected short hair was a requirement of the boys' home. But in this picture, it was starting to grow out. His eyes were the same in every photo. A penetrating brown that conveyed his depth of character even in a two-dimensional medium.

"Mom? You okay?" Rory put his callused, large hand on her thin forearm. He'd grown into a handsome man like his older brother, and was tanned and callused in all the right places from his work at the family hardware store he managed, despite only being in his twenties. His physique made it clear he didn't let being in a wheel chair keep him from hard work.

Elaine nodded, withdrawing a small alb.u.m from her own sizeable purse. Opening it up, she displayed a young girl around the same age as Des in his picture. The likeness was so remarkable, the only thing that distinguished them seemed to be gender. "It's no wonder Thomas saw the resemblance. Look at the two of them. It almost made the DNA test unnecessary. There's no doubt they were mother and son."

"You're right, Mom. He looks a lot like Aunt Christine. I remember she always had peppermint drops."

"Yes." From the press of Elaine's lips, and the flicker in Betty's eyes, Julie suspected there was a less-than-innocuous reason for that. If his mother was a drug addict, she likely had bad teeth. Julie thought about Des's subconscious preference for peppermint scent in his own home and wondered if he'd internalized that olfactory memory as an infant.

There was no unkindness in Elaine's voice as she gave her son the simple one-word answer, only sadness as her fingertips slipped over the picture. "She was never a happy child, not like you, Thomas and Les, but she was artistic and dramatic. She'd create costumes out of sc.r.a.ps of cloth and old jewelry our mother had. She'd stroll through the house like a fine Victorian lady, or a princess. One time she imitated a British accent and pretended to be Queen Elizabeth for a whole week."

"Ah, a method actor," Julie said.

A touch of grat.i.tude crossed Elaine's expression as Julie pulled her out of the shadows. "Yes. That's exactly how she was. She loved to pretend to be someone else."

Sal appeared at the door and five sets of eyes immediately snapped to him. "They're in recovery now," he said. "Dr. Pindar said he'd come here to see all of you once he cleans up, but the surgical nurse told me everything went exactly as planned. No problems for either of them."

"Thank G.o.d," Elaine said, as Betty echoed the same sentiment. Rory stroked his mother's arm and Marcus's grip on Julie's hand increased, a silent message of hope and rea.s.surance. She'd hold onto that, and use it however she needed for Des.

As she looked around at Betty and Thomas's family, including Marcus, she knew neither she nor Des would have to stand alone in that. She'd teased Des about family culture shock, but there was nothing better in the world to have when you really needed it.

Especially when the family in question had hearts as big as these.

Chapter Twenty-One.

Des moved in and out of a post-operative haze. Only vaguely aware when they moved him back to his room, he was nevertheless pleased to feel Julie's hand on his arm and her lips briefly on his face. He could smell her scent, so as he drifted in and out, he knew she was in the guest chair recliner. Betty came and went, her and the new shift nurse, an attractive black woman who smelled like lemon, checking all his vitals and making him do the spirometer to improve his breathing when he was conscious.

He knew he was starting to wake up for real when he was aware enough to register the catheter that would help the transplanted kidney's communication with the rest of his plumbing. The newest member of his organ team had better get up to speed soon, because he wasn't going to tolerate having his c.o.c.k stuffed with a tube any longer than necessary.

He had the pressure cuffs on both his legs to prevent blood clots, and an IV in his arm and neck. They made him feel tied down, antsy, but he pushed that away. Another temporary condition only.

A glance at the clock, the light through the blinds, and a somewhat muzzy recalculation of the pa.s.sage of time told him it was close to daybreak. He guessed it was early morning rounds, based on the sounds of rolling carts, beeps and murmurs, and the movement of nurses up and down the hall in their squishy shoes.

The recliner was empty, but the blanket wasn't yet folded, also confirming the early morning hour. At the sound of a door opening, he turned his head and saw Julie coming out of the bathroom.

She was a welcome sight, and a charming one, in pajama bottoms with kittens printed all over them. Her soft, stretched vee-neck T-shirt made him want to touch her generously wobbling b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Since getting erect with an installed catheter was not a good plan, he forced his thoughts elsewhere.

He lifted a hand, drawing her attention. "Hey there." His voice was thick, unused, and he cleared it as she beamed like the sun.

She immediately came to his side and closed both her hands about one of his. "Welcome back."

Before the surgery, there'd been some fear and tension in her expression, despite her best efforts to conceal it. She didn't have much of a poker face, his love. But he was glad for it, because the range of emotions he read now were heartening. She was more relaxed, and very happy to see him.

He knew the surgery had gone well, because he remembered Dr. Pindar discussing it with him in post-op. However, typical for anesthesia, things that had seemed clear then had turned into a dreamlike haze. He'd have to ask Julie or Betty for a recap. But he'd retained the most important thing. Step One was a success.

Maybe they all knew it was the easiest step against what might be ahead, but he'd take it as a good sign. He was going to let Julie's optimism bolster him. Though he'd possessed a will of iron and enough self-discipline to direct an army battalion his entire life, he hadn't always been optimistic. Just stubborn. For her, he wanted to be optimistic.

"So..." She gave him an mischievous look, drawing a chair close to the bed. "Since you have a gay man's kidney, are you having any urges to fulfill a couple of my guy-on-guy fantasies?"

He chuckled, and winced. Her eyes darkened and she placed her hands on his torso as if she could soothe away the pain. "That could backfire," he advised her. "What if having a gay man's kidney makes me want to be gay?"

"Based on how you were looking at my b.r.e.a.s.t.s just now, I think I'm safe."

"Caught that, did you?"

"I think you'll be ogling my b.r.e.a.s.t.s when you're ninety. And did I thank you for that?"

He lifted her hand to his lips, kissed it with decent accuracy. "I feel like I have fur in my mouth. Can I have something to drink?"

"The nurse said not at first. We can use these wet swabs on your lips and inside your mouth if it feels dry, but not even ice chips until the doctor gives the okay."

"n.a.z.is."

"I know, right? They say it's for your own good, but I think the Inquisitors said the same thing when they were racking heretics."

He smiled, despite the discomfort of dry lips. "I missed you, love."

"I was here the whole time." Her fingers tightened on his, but her eyes shone with care and love. It was a good feeling to be basking in that light. "Oh, here, let's do the spirometer thing and get it over with. She told me to push it on you like a drug dealer coaxing six-year-olds to do crack as soon as you surfaced."

He remembered the nurse walking him through it, but he let Julie show him again, because it meant she curled her fingers around his hands and caressed his face as he brought the mouthpiece to his lips. When he sat the device down, he laid his head back on the pillow, feeling lightheaded.

"Julie?" At the light rap on the door, he opened his eyes. An older woman he didn't know but was pretty sure was Thomas's mother, based on similarities in their facial features, peered around the panel. "Marcus just relieved me and I wanted to see-oh." She startled when she realized Des's eyes were on her, and she smiled, a partly nervous, partly pleased and antic.i.p.atory look. "I'm so sorry."

"It's all right. I'm awake."

"So I see." She smiled more warmly. "I'm Elaine."

"I figured." Des cleared his throat, feeling ridiculously awkward. Elaine hadn't expected he'd be conscious, though now that he was, she looked eager to stay. But he could also tell she was struggling to not seem too eager and spook him. If he wasn't ready to talk, he expected she'd go away without offense, but he didn't know what he was ready for.