Chapter 59: The Last Candy Bar

*Natalia's POV*

My fingers tangled in his dampened curls, slightly pulling it while his tongue entered my mouth, the tip of it brushing up against mine. Mine reciprocated, gently exploring one another's, as the passion built with each floor we passed in the elevator to our hotel room. His hands gripped onto my hips, pulling my crotch against his while I grinded up to feel the obvious boner.

We only turned our heads once the elevator doors opened, then realized it was our floor. Joe grabbed my crutch in a hurry after picking me up and carrying me to our door, our lips in a constant rhythm. The veins on his arms bulged with the balance and weight of me and my crutch, which ultimately that one obstacle had to be let go, dropping to the floor right at the door once he closed it with his foot so effortlessly.

Me, however, was laid onto the mattress that barely took my eyes off of Joe as he threw his black tank top up over his head and tossed it aimlessly somewhere we'd find tomorrow morning, then his sweatpants he picked to wear after his quick shower at the arena. I fumbled with the buckles of my brace, the only way my pants would join wherever Joe's clothes were.

"You need help?" Joe climbed onto the bed, ready to give me a hand in speeding up the process.

"I got it," I spoke with a prick of frustration in my tone, but I was determined to get the stupid brace off myself.

And damn right I did. It felt freeing to have no bulky reminder or hindrance in the midst of our physical intimacy. I wasn't bruised. I wasn't broken. I was the old me that desired to feel good. The old me that had no care in the world besides who I was with in bed. Just Joe and I, his back muscles defining themselves as he held his weight above me.

We both needed this distraction. Right here, right now.

With his teeth nipping down the side of my neck, I reached down with my own hand to slide it underneath my underwear, the only garment I was still wearing. The warm liquid film on my index and middle fingers only proved how horny I'd been. This was a moment I was anticipating for a while.

He took notice with my small gasps I tried to hold back, encouraging him to remove his boxer briefs before helping take off my underwear. His hand took place of mine, rubbing my clit gently and slow.

"You can go faster already," I instructed, pushing his hand down for added pressure while my hips rose to grind against it.

"Maybe I want to keep you on the edge," he teased, the roughness in his voice not the only thing turning me on further.

His breath tickled my neck, his hand leaving my crotch to adjust our bodies with my knee in mind. Spreading my legs was easy. Bending them for that long in that position wasn't, but I didn't dare show it. He couldn't know, otherwise I knew he'd stop if I acknowledged my pain.

Lowering himself inside me, I let out a louder gasp. My fingernails dug into his sides until one hand moved to the back of his head to pull his face close to mine, locking our lips in a fiery passion.

He stifled a moan in our kiss, the pace amplifying with every few thrusts. When our lips disconnected, he buried his face in the crook of my neck while I threw mine back into the pillow, biting my lip to stifle my own moans.

"Louder," he ordered, the sound of me increasing to orgasm arousing him the most out of everything.

The walls of my vagina around his dick, swelling and pulsing as I felt the addicting pleasure grow, drew him to the line. But the sounds I couldn't control emitting out of my mouth grabbed him to join me into orgasm. I should know, considering that was all he had since me moving to Boston. This was so much better than phone sex though, no doubt.

Once he rolled next to me, him catching his breath with me, I slowly straightened my knee with an unexpected wince. The dopamine provided temporary relief, it already wearing off quickly.

I closed my eyes in hopes Joe didn't catch it, but this was Joe. Extremely observant, especially with those he deeply cared about.

"We didn't have to, you know," he turned his head, immediate concern written on his face, "Do you need ice? I can call the front desk and see if they can bring up—"

"No," I bluntly replied in a breath with my eyes still closed, "I'll be fine. I don't need ice."

We laid there in silence, our chests starting to steady to a normal rise-and-fall pattern. When my eyes finally opened, the ceiling looking lower than I remembered, that's when I realized Joe had intertwined our pinkies together. I had no idea how long they were like that, or even how long we were lying there in a comfortable quietness with secrets we kept to ourselves.

"I never went trick-or-treating with my girls," Joe blurted out, causing me to instantaneously turn my head towards him, "I couldn't send you pictures because I didn't have any."

He no longer was looking at me, but at something in the very distance in front of us. His long eyelashes mostly covered his somber eyes with the angle we were in. 

"Why?" I inquired, interlocking my whole hand with his instead of just a finger, "I know how excited you were about it. You've been talking about it for weeks."

"My flight got severely delayed," he explained with tears brimming the bottom of his eyes and a low voice that wavered, "By the time I got there, it was too late. They went without me. And because of them now in school, I wouldn't have been able to spend any time with them before my flight back to the States, hence the whole flight change thing. I got to drop them off though. Oh, and I stole a few pieces of candy from their stashes. It was the only thing I was able to eat until I landed in Miami and had a few of my friends there to distract me."

I turned my head back to stare up at the ceiling while my opposing arm crossed my body to tenderly grab onto his arm closest to me, the same one that was already holding my other hand, Scratching it gently with a light touch, I stayed silent until I knew he was done.

When he blinked, a tear leaked out, but the salty grief remained in a line on his cheek instead of him wiping it away, "I'm not this superhero I try to pretend to be. I'm exhausted, Nat. Almost all the time. But I have to push through it, otherwise everything will slip completely through the space between my fingers. I already feel like I'm failing at being a father they can look up to."

My eyes darted back to him, a blurry haze obscuring my vision, "You're not a shit father. They're your world. And I know you're theirs too, definitely someone they look up to and admire. Someone they're proud of, which will only increase as they get older. I don't even know my father. Mine abandoned me when I was a baby. I have absolutely no memories of him or his existence in my life. I've just heard a few stories from my mom, and that was enough for me to know I wanted nothing to do with him. He isn't a father to look up to. I know the difference personally."

He faced me, tears that I hadn't noticed until now smearing underneath the bottom lash lines, before whispering, "I'm sorry."

I shook my head as my opposing hand left his arm to reach for his cheek, brushing along the stained line while a tear of my own fell, "Don't start pitying me. You know I hate that shit."

After a brief pause and a wipe of his eyes with his thumb and index finger, he replied with the smallest of a grin to lighten the mood, "You want my last candy bar? I'll put all the blame on me if they ever figure it out that I stole them."

"Hey, I never stole anything! You already are to fully blame," I smiled bigger than him, but it still barely reached my eyes.

He caressed my face and leaned in to give me a supportive peck on my lips, then stared up at the ceiling in unison with me. The air was still thick with my secret, a reality I didn't want to say aloud, otherwise it became real.

If I didn't say it now, I never would have until I was already getting prepped in the hospital, "I'm probably going to need another surgery on my knee."

I didn't face him, nor did he face me. But his hand squeezed mine, hearing our worst fears that were coming true being spoken aloud.

"Oh, and Jules' baby shower is tomorrow," I blabbed out, "I was never invited or knew until my mom told me she was in Boston for it. Sucks, you know? We used to be like sisters, but now we barely know each other. Or maybe that's what she wants, me no longer in her life. I probably just complicate it, or she could be mad at me for not telling her about him, the truth—"

"Babe, if she's mad at you for that, that's not on you," he disrupted my negative self-blame, "Call her. Talk to her."

That was easier said than done, especially with my stubborn ass. If I felt abandoned by someone, that was it. They'd never hear from or see me again, as if I disappeared into another universe or died with no funeral.

"Find out her baby's gender tomorrow," he nudged my side with a slight smirk, "My bet is a boy."

"Oh, absolutely not. It's definitely a girl," I scoffed, a smile appearing on the corners of my mouth thanks to Joe, "It's a sister gut feeling."