Caring Christopher

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#15 My right hand, some lube and a box of tissues

Christopher

I rush upstairs as fast as I can and lock myself in my bedroom, breathing hard. It’s not until I sit down on the foot of the bed that I realize I still have my shoes and coat on. As I take them off, I replay in my mind what I overheard Abby saying when I walked into the living room after my shift at the hospital.

“I’m tired of relying on my vibrator for orgasms. I could use a good old-fashioned pounding.”

Fuck. I’m hard. I got hard the moment I heard her sweet voice saying the word orgasms. I stammered my way through the lamest sentence ever – I’m not even sure what I said, to be honest – and I’m sure she now thinks I’m some kind of lame old guy who gets freaked out at the mere idea of sex.

Little does she know that she’s all I can think about all damn day. Naked. In bed with me.

I take a deep breath, trying to shove my attraction to her down like I’ve been doing all week. Ever since I confessed to myself that I’m falling for her, I’ve been unable to stop staring at her, noticing all her cute little quirks, and the way her full breasts move when she walks, how her shirt moves up when she reaches for the sugar bowl on the highest shelve in the kitchen, showing off a bit of silky white skin…

She said she’s tired of relying on her vibrator for orgasms. Does that mean…? I close my eyes, already imagining Abby laying in bed across the hall, slipping a hand into her panties, moaning with pleasure as she presses her vibrator against her swollen clit, making herself crazy with need until she finally reaches her peak, falling apart in a room not that far from the one I’ve been jerking off in, thinking about her.

I curse and take off my clothes, stepping into the bathroom for a cold shower, but I can’t bring myself to actually step under the cold water. Instead, I turn the water off and seize my raging boner, getting myself off in record time. I feel dirty when I’m done, and I scrub my skin so hard under the hot water of my shower that my skin is red and raw when I’m done.

I’m disgusting. If she knew I was in here thinking about her naked… She’d resign for sure. And I can’t lose her. Even if I can’t have her the way I’d like to, I still want her in my life. Need her. She’s so good with the kids and she takes care of Dorothy like she’s known the woman for years, making her feel comfortable in this unfamiliar house. Abby is the heart of this place, and I don’t even want to think about doing all of this without her. I can’t. I need her. For Dorothy, for the boys, and for me. I need her for myself the most, no matter how selfish that sounds. She makes me feel whole in a way I haven’t felt in a long time.

When I’m dressed in sweatpants and an old shirt, I peek into Davy’s room, smiling when I see him sprawled across his bed like a starfish. He’s been sleeping better this week, not sneaking in with me as much. It’s nice to know he’s able to fall asleep on his own when I’m not home. Yoah is next to check up on, and he’s wide awake, staring at the ceiling.

“Hey,” I say softly, closing the door behind me. “Are you okay?”

He sits up and gives me a worn smile. “Mom isn’t going to live much longer, is she?”

Oh hell, I’m not up for this right now. I don’t have a choice, though, so I kneel down next to his bed and put a hand next to him, giving him the choice of taking it or not. He grabs it right away, squeezing hard.

“She’s got one or two more months,” I say softly, feeling like I might start crying myself. “I’m so sorry, Yoah.”

He looks down at our hands and sighs deeply. “Can we stay with you when she dies?”

“I hope so,” I say honestly. “The people from the office told me yesterday that I can probably keep taking care of you. It depends on your grandparents too, though. So far, they haven’t been trying to get you back, but they might.”

Yoah shudders. “Don’t make me go back to them, Chris. I don’t… They weren’t nice to us. Grandpa… He’s mean.”

“What did he do to you, Yoah?” I ask softly, praying it won’t be too bad. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I’m always here if you want to talk.”

“He…” His jaw sets. “No. Don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay.” I know better than to press the issue. “I will fight to keep you here, Yoah. I promise I will. And as long as I take good care of you and Davy, and you want to stay here, I don’t think they will try to take you away from me.”

“Good,” he sighs. “That’s good.”

“Yes,” I agree. “I like having you here, Yoah. I love you and Davy. And I’m so sorry all of this is happening to you. I wish I could make your mother better, but I can’t.”

Yoah wipes at a tear that slipped out, and he turns away from me, yanking his hand out of mine. “I want to go to sleep.”

“Sure.” I get up and look down at his frail body. He looks healthier than he did when he first came here, but he’s still too skinny for my liking. “If you want to talk or need a hug or a midnight snack or anything else, please come find me, okay? I love you, Yoah.”

He doesn’t respond, so I back out of his room with a knot in my stomach, not sure if I said something wrong or not. I’m trying, I really am, but I seem to be messing up left and right tonight. I check on Dorothy, making sure her IV is still attached, the pain meds helping her sleep. Then I make my way downstairs, because I know that if I don’t face the girls today, I will end up feeling unable to meet Abby’s eyes tomorrow. I need to do this now and get it over with. That how I end up stepping into the living room just in time to hear Abigail say: “What’s wrong with vanilla?”

The girls both look up at me with wide eyes when they hear me approach, and I can’t help but wonder why they’d look so guilty when they’re just talking about ice cream.

“Hey,” I say, walking past them into the kitchen to pour myself a glass of wine. “Sorry for interrupting your night. I’m just going to read a book in bed. I’ll get out of your hair.”

“No, please sit,” Brittany says, her blue eyes shining dangerously. She wiggles her eyebrows at me and points at the loveseat that’s angled slightly towards the couch. “You’re a man. Maybe you can help us settle this argument.”

“No no no,” Abby says, looking flustered. “Britty, please, this night is embarrassing enough without you dragging Chris into this.”

Oh boy. I feel like bolting, but I force myself to sit down and take a sip of red wine, trying to look like I’m not freaking out on the inside. “What can I help you with, ladies?”

“Vanilla or kinky?” Brittany asks me, pulling her fingers through her waist-length blonde hair.

“Vanilla? Kinky?” I repeat, suddenly realizing they’re not talking about ice cream at all.

“I think most men have some kind of kink, and most women do too, but Abby here thinks most couples have vanilla sex.” Brittany cocks her head to the side while she sips her wine. “What do you think Christopher?”

Oh bloody hell. I thought I would be spared the sex talk tonight since Aston isn’t here, but I guess Aston’s brother’s wife is just as bad as him. “Erm…” I say, looking down at the floor. “I don’t know.”

“What’s your kink?” Brittany goes on, giggling. She’s definitely drunk. “Or are you as tame as you look?”

“Britty, that’s enough,” Abby says firmly. “I’m going to text Jax to come pick you up. Stop harassing Chris.”

My eyes lock with hers for a moment, and I can see the wonder in hers, probably curious what my answer would be. And fuck me, I’m more than curious what she likes in the bedroom. I gulp down some wine and decide to just throw caution to the wind.

“I’m vanilla,” I say, not taking my eyes off Abby. “Maybe that’s boring, but I’m definitely vanilla. I like to take my time and make a woman feel good. Safe. Cherished. I’m not into anything… kinky.”

Abby’s eyes widen and her tongue flicks over her lips, wetting them. It takes all my concentration to keep my cock from stirring.

“You and Abby are a match made in heaven then,” Brittany says, laughing. “She’s just as boring as you are. Me… not so much. Jax and I-”

“-do a lot of kinky shit me and Chris don’t need nor want to know about,” Abby cuts in, her cheeks flushed. She pulls her hair over her shoulder to shield herself from me as she types a message to Jaxon on her phone. “He’ll be here in ten minutes,” she tells Brittany. “Thank God. Hopefully he gets here before you can embarrass me any further in front of my boss.”

Her boss.

Right. Of course. I’m her boss. I’m a surgeon for crying out loud, a well-respected professional with a huge paycheck to match, yet here I am, drinking wine and talking about sex with my nanny and her best friend. What’s wrong with me?

“I’m going to bed,” I say, putting down my half-full glass and pulling a hand through my curls, trying not to look as flustered as I feel. “Good night.”

I seriously need to get my shit together. Aston would be laughing his ass off he’d be able to see me right now. I text Edward, hoping to meet up with him soon to talk to him about this whole mess. He’s the only one who won’t just yell at me to go for it. He gets how complicated things are when you’ve got foster kids, and how they are more important than anything else. I can’t just start hitting on Abby, because that might fuck up everything I’ve worked so hard for. Besides, I’ve got no game. Even if I tried to put the moves on her, I would strike out for sure.

All I’ve got is my right hand, some lube and a box of tissues. At this rate, that is all I’ll ever have.

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