Vivian Arend - High Risk

He used his left arm as much as his right, comfortably holding items to his body, or clasping the tea jar in the crook of his elbow. For the fiddly work he used his right hand, but other than that, he seemed unaware of the missing portion of his arm.

She’d been oblivious last night. Never once during sex had it registered.

“You’re staring,” he noted. “Do I have something stuck on me I can’t see?”

“I was looking at your arm,” she confessed.

Marcus pushed the teapot to the side and walked around the counter. “Took you long enough.”

He lifted his arm toward her, as he had when she’d checked out his climbing prosthesis. Only now there was his arm and the stump end, nothing covering it. Becki looked up at his face as she laid her hand on his elbow and pressed it down. “I was just noticing you don’t allow it to stop you.”

“Oh God, don’t start that.” He lifted his arm again, nudging her with it until she grabbed on. “I don’t have fingers. I can’t reach out the same way I used to. It’s a royal pain in the ass at times, but mostly it just is. There’s nothing to be admired. I’d prefer you were drooling over my sexual prowess or something I have more control over.”

Becki touched him, wrapping her fingers around his bicep even as she smiled. “Well, there is that as well. Yes, on a scale of one to ten, I admire your cock a whole lot more than your arm.”

He laughed.

She ran her fingers over the four inches or so that remained of his forearm. The dusting of hair was dark against his light tan, the skin smooth. Muscles and tendons flexed under her touch as she worked her way lower until she cupped the end. There the skin was rougher, slightly rumpled in spots.

Marcus shivered.

She jerked her hand away. “Does it hurt?”

“You’re tickling me,” he teased. “Let me grab our tea.”

Becki let him go. He might not want to be admired, but she still did because he had done what she wanted to do. Gone on living. Put his energies into a new direction.

Marcus pressed a cup against her fingers before jerking his head toward the living room. “Come on, curl up on the couch and we’ll get cozy until the tea kicks in.”

“You giving me some patented home remedy?”

“Herbal. Yeah, it’s one of those ‘calms you down, makes you drowsy’ natural Chinese blends.”

He sat first, and she unashamedly crawled right back into his lap as she’d done when she’d woken up. Marcus didn’t say anything at first, just sipped his tea and held her close.

Marcus spoke quietly. “I think it freaks people out.”

“Your arm?”

He paused. “You know, it’s more like they can’t understand why I’m not making a bigger deal of it. Like I’m supposed to be all emo and pissed that I lost a limb. Fuck it—I’d take my life over my hand any day, and that’s about what it came down to. People don’t know the big picture, though. They see what they see, and expectations and assumptions creep in.”

“If you’re handicapped you’re supposed to be a victim, you know.”

“Right,” he drawled, “or admired for doing what simply isn’t a big deal. People need to get real. If we’re honest, everyone deals with physical limitations of some sort, whether they’re too short to reach into high cupboards, or too out of shape to run for the bus. It’s the mental stuff that takes more effort. Takes incredible bravery.”

She fought to keep from whimpering. “I don’t feel very brave at the moment.”

“Oh, Becki. I know.” He put down his drink, rubbing her back gently as she clung to him. His voice carried to her ears, a low whisper, yet full of conviction. “Listen to me. Trust me. You have more than enough courage to face this valley and, in time, climb out the other side.”

She took a deep breath as she let his reassurances settle over her.

Being with him helped. Marcus could truly understand the haunting pain she fought. He still struggled with his own demons—she was sure of it. The days he’d gone missing, his episodes as he called them, had to have a cause. The caress of his hand said this was more than a standard show of sympathy.

Somehow, without another word, she knew he understood her battle. And while the war still raged for him as well, he hadn’t given up. His determination motivated her beyond belief.

The heat of his chest lulled her, as did the warmth of the tea. She finished the mug and he took it from her fingers, nestling in tighter as she wrapped her arms around his torso. It was quiet except for the sound of their breathing, the faint pulse of his heart under her ear.

If the nightmares came, he’d chase them away.

* * *

Marcus waited until her breathing calmed to a smooth rhythm. Too many emotions waged inside for a simple answer to his current state of mind. He’d given her tea, supported her. Done what he could to ease her fears, all the while not letting her catch a glimpse of what was hiding inside.

When she screamed, he’d been the one frozen in terror.

Memories rushed in, the unanswerable cries that haunted him. The unspeakable pain of being unable to help. But Becki was flesh and blood, and his drive to soothe her had forced his personal demons into retreat.

They returned now to poke him as he lifted her and carried her back to bed. All the while as he slipped off her robe and arranged her limbs on the mattress, his mind raced with unsolvable scenarios.

Becki curled up so sweetly, her fingers clinging to his arm as he touched her. He tugged himself free to strip off his sweatpants then rejoined her. She pressed her body against his, reaching back to pull his arm over her. Her fingers lingered on his stump, running lightly over the sensitive skin on the inside of his elbow. Then she fell fully asleep again, leaving him with his tortured thoughts.

Seeing her struggle with her fears only emphasized his faults. Not his hand—he’d told her the truth when he said he could live without a goddamn hand. It was the pain of what he couldn’t fix that preoccupied his nightmares.

What if he couldn’t do for her? What if somewhere along the road he failed her? He should leave her alone, but he was too damn selfish to want that as an option.

He was still no closer to an answer when they woke the next morning, pissing rain smacking against the windowpane.

She twirled in his arms and kissed him, squirming away before he could do anything more than blink drowsily. “Sleepyhead. I’ve been awake for an hour.”

“Why didn’t you take advantage of me then?” He leaned on his elbow as she strode naked to the window, hands pressed to the glass. She wrinkled her nose and pouted at the weather.

“Stupid rain.” She turned again, arms crossing over her breasts. “Ravishment was not on the list for this morning.”

“It is on the list, though. Good to know.”

She grinned and plopped back on the edge of the mattress, far enough away that he’d have to lunge to grab her. “I feel wonderful. Your miracle tea and the rest of the night’s sleep did wonders. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Good thing one of them had gotten some rest. “Plans for the day. You have anything you need to do?”

She shook her head. “I’ve got the week organized, so if we want to train this morning, I’m game.”

“Breakfast first?”

“God, yes, I’m starving.” Becki stood and went to her bag, pulling out clothing before swinging away from him toward the bathroom. “I’ll shower, then you can tell me what to make, okay?”

Being around her was comfortable. Relaxed.

Maybe too relaxed. Marcus lay back for a moment and debated the wisdom of getting into the shower with her and starting all over again. He hadn’t had nearly enough of her yet.

She was right, though. Getting out for a while wasn’t a bad idea. Burn off a little energy, then they’d come back and see what other mischief they could get into. So he ignored his morning wood and slipped to the kitchen to see what he had in the house. Something with a lot of calories to make sure they had enough to keep going for a long, long time.

The first hour of training was a complete and utter failure. Becki collapsed onto the mat beside him and cursed wildly.

Marcus waited for her to finish letting off steam. He rested his hand on her thigh, rubbing lightly as she lay with her arms crossed over her face.

She’d warmed up, roped in, and attempted to climb. Each time she’d been no higher than the five-foot marker before she’d call for a stop and he’d lower her to safety. He’d suggested other routes, other things she could do to train, but she’d insisted.

She might be willing, but her fear was having nothing to do with it. She was like a clipped bird, stuck on the ground.

Her chest heaved as she dragged in a huge breath and released it slowly.

“What am I going to do, Marcus? I can’t wrap a blindfold around my head and expect you to follow me everywhere, talking me through routes.”

Frustration and anger—at herself—screamed out no matter how softly she’d spoken.

“Why are you pushing so hard to go vertical?” he asked. “You need to get into shape again, and there’s no reason why you can’t do that while staying close to the floor.”

She cranked her elbow out of the way to deliver a scathing glare. “Baby steps.”

“I’ll join you,” Marcus offered. “Come on, it’s way more fun to have someone else to work over and laugh at when they fall off a section you aced than worrying about what you can’t change right now.”

Becki flipped to her stomach and crawled toward him. “Stop being reasonable. I was getting ready for a good pout, and you had to go and ruin it for me.”

He caught her around the waist and pulled her close. Becki rested her hands on his shoulders while his fingers teased the line of skin at the edge of her shorts. “Sorry, but tell me that reasonable isn’t what you’d have suggested if our positions were reversed.”

“Hmm, reversed positions. Now you’re onto something.” She made contact with his chest and pushed. The move came quickly enough that he lost his balance, landing on his back to discover he was looking up at her. She’d straddled him, a shining grin exchanged for the anger she’d shown only a moment before.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” he warned. “I just suggested wall circuits. I’m not going to fool around until you’ve done at least two.”

“Oh, really?” Becki undulated her hips, and he gave his dick hell for reacting.

She leaned down, the swoop of her climbing top low enough to reveal the rounded line of her cleavage. He looked forward to exploring her all over again very shortly, but first? Self-control was demanded. “You know you want to climb.”

Becki planted her hands on either side of his head and sighed lustily. “I want to climb you, but fine. Work first. Play later.”

She kissed him. Lips soft and warm. Eager tongue slipping to tangle with his. The position put her full-out over the top of him, and he was seriously considering throwing the workout aside for at least an hour when there was a loud slam, and a rush of cooler air filled the room.

She sprang back, scrambling to her feet. Marcus joined her as three people walked through the door, their loud joking echoing in the gym.

“I still don’t believe you did that.” Tripp poked Devon in the chest. “Alisha is going to kill you.”

“She’s got to catch me first.” Devon stopped a few feet away from them, his bright grin innocently shining out. “Hey, Marcus. Becki. What’s up?”

Marcus looked over his team. Devon, Tripp, Xavier. “What’re you doing here on a day off?”

“Interview for the paper. The reporter wants shots to accompany the article, and we figured David wouldn’t mind if we used the gym.”

Devon seemed oblivious, but Tripp was giving Becki and him some pointed looks. Xavier had already wandered off to the change room, no doubt to grab harness and climbing shoes.

“Umm, you don’t think David will mind, do you?” Devon fidgeted, finally picking up on some of the tension in the room.

Marcus wanted to say yes, but he couldn’t lie, no matter how much he regretted losing their privacy. Of course, now the likelihood of getting their workout completed increased exponentially. “Not a problem at all. We’ll stay out of your way.”

He joined Becki in the corner where she’d retreated. “Sorry about that. You still game to continue?”

She leered at him dramatically, then laughed. “Well, sure. Why not?”