My Wicked Virgin

Page 25

“I’ll go.”
“I don’t think I can get in right away like that. I have to talk to my insurance.”
“Fuck your insurance,” he said fiercely. “We’re going tomorrow. Dr. Muller said she’ll make time for you anytime you want to come in. She’s been begging you to come see her about your migraines.”
“Okay.” She tucked her head into his neck. “Okay.”
He typed something into his phone as he said, “And I want you to consider delaying your internship.”
“I can’t. I need it to graduate.”
“Susanna, I know how important school is to you. I’ll make sure you finish. Your happiness is my responsibility now.” He put his phone away. “Which is why we’re going to the neurologist tomorrow. I texted Dr. Muller and she’ll see you at 11 am.”
Sunny wanted to be strong, wanted to say that she could suck it up, that there was nothing to worry about, but it would all be nothing but lies. If she was being honest with herself, she was scared—so fucking scared—that something was seriously wrong with her. She thought she could do everything on her own, that she’d never have to rely on anyone, but if she was sick…she would have to have someone at her back.
“I don’t have anyone,” she whispered without meaning to.
“No, my beloved,” Hawk said in a stern voice. “You have me. You will always have me.”
“Oh Hawk,” she began to cry, then let out a startled squeak when he scooped her into his arms. He ignored the voices of people asking what was wrong and carried her out of the bar and into the nearest quiet room.
She wished he brought her to this private place because he was finally do something about the blinding sexual tension between them. But her head hurt so bad all she could do was whimper. He turned off the lights, and the darkness helped, but his presence behind her back was the best medicine. He untied the mask she’d been wearing tonight, and that little bit of pressure taken off her temples eased the pounding.
Next Hawk loosened the stays of her corset, allowing her lungs to fully expand. After that he gently took her heels off, and rolled her stockings off. During this whole time she just laid there, focusing on moving her head as little as possible.
He placed his hands lightly over her eyes a second before someone knocked on the door.
“Come in.”
Anya’s gentle voice whispered over Sunny’s raw nerves, “Here’s her purse. I also brought a caffeinated drink and an over the counter pain reliever.”
“Thank you, sweetheart,” Hawk said in a voice so soft it barely disturbed Sunny’s throbbing head.
A moment later, they were in darkness again, and Hawk helped her sit up from the wonderfully soft bed. He coaxed her into taking her medicine, and she hated how she craved the relief it promised. As she lay back and waited for the medication to work, she wondered if her mother’s addiction had started out like this—a desperate search for something, anything, to relieve the pain.
Unconsciously, she matched her breathing to his, counting their inhalations and exhalations in the darkness. The pain was all consuming by this point, and she would have gladly sold her soul to make it stop. Little by little, the migraine lost its hold on her head as the pain medication her did its work.
When her body lost some of its stiffness, Hawk began to gently stroke her, his touch incredibly caring and soothing. Despite his rugged good look and overall air of manly maleness, Hawk was a hell of a cuddler.
And not just with her. When a submissive had a rough day, it was not unknown for Master Hawk to step in and hold them. Sunny used to get jealous about Hawk hugging someone else, but over the years, she’d seen again and again that his hugs were just that—hugs. He didn’t cop feels, get aroused, or become flirty. He simply gave others a literal shoulder to cry on.
It had taken her a long time to figure out, but Hawk was one of those people who saw someone in need and was driven to help them. Some might call it white knight syndrome, but she found that term belittling. Hawk helped because he was a good guy. He knew what it felt like to need comfort and have no one there to offer it.
Sunny managed to move her hand enough to lace her fingers together with his.
“Feeling better?” Hawk whispered.
“Yeah,” she whispered back, equally softly. “Hawk, I’m so scared.”
She wanted to cry, but she was afraid it might make the pain come back.
“I know, beloved, I know.” He kissed the side of her head and gently pulled her closer. “No matter what happens, I’ll be at your side.”
God, she loved him, but those words were so hard for her to say. Sometimes, after her mom flipped out in some crazy drug induced fit, she’d demand that Sunny tell her she loved her. Her mother used Sunny’s love like a weapon, something to exploit and use to hurt her daughter over and over again—until she managed to finally kill that love.