Conklin's Foundation (Conklin's Trilogy) (49 page)

“Okay, Becca.  I want you to spit into this cup until it is past this line.  You need to get the chemicals out of your system.  It will help if you blow your nose a lot too,” the medic said.

I wiggled my nose.  That sounded gross.  The last thing I wanted to do in my elegant gown in front of Tyler and half of Chicago was to spit into a cup and continuously blow my blood-stained nose.

The medic nodded at me while handing me the cup.  Tyler was watching me, urging me to do what the medic said.

“Can you not watch me spit and blow bodily fluids please,” I begged.  “Go see how Margo and your mother are doing.”

Tyler looked at me with reluctance.  “You want me to check on Margo?”

“Gosh, Tyler.  I only don’t like her when she is trying to put her wrinkled hands on you. I’m not completely heartless,” I said, feeling the need to blow my nose.

Tyler let out a soft
chuckle and kissed my forehead then headed over to where Margo was sitting.

I walked over to the medic station, attempting to shield myself from the elegant people wandering around from the party.  Some looked concerned, some looked bored, but most of them looked irritated.  The valet was backed up from everyone leaving the party at once.

After spitting in the cup a few times and blowing my nose, I peeked over to watch Tyler and Margo.  He patted her back while she sat on the curb.  The gesture was one from a friend and not a lover, and she gave him a grateful look.  Tyler had saved Margo too.  He looked over at his mom nervously, and Margo gave him a nod, urging him to go see her.  He slowly walked over, fear clearly in his eyes as he approached Mary and RJ.  Mary had her eyes open now and lifted her hand to touch Tyler’s face.

My heart skipped a beat when I saw his face scrunch as he tilted his head into his mom’s hand.  He was worried about her.  Tyler may have put on a front that he could care less about his parents,
but seeing his mom hooked up to an oxygen tank, barely conscious, and blotchy from the tear gas scared him.

I saw a tear escape her eye and travel down to her oxygen mask as she pulled on Tyler’s sleeve to give him the best hug she could with her limp hands.  RJ even put a hand on Tyler’s back.  Is this what this family needed to appreciate each other? 
Some sort of drastic event?

Tyler quickly straightened from his mom’s embrace and shrugged RJ’s hand off his back.  He smoothed his dress
shirt and said something to RJ then began to walk back over to my direction.

“Did you fill your spit cup?” he asked in all seriousness.

I grimaced and put the cup behind my back.  He didn’t need to see that.

He rolled his eyes at me as he wrapped an arm around my waist.  “As soon as you are done spitting, we can go home.  Otherwise I’m taking you to the hospital,” he said sternly.

I gave him my biggest pleading puppy dog eyes, but then quickly closed them, remembering how dry and irritated they still were.  I needed to finish my task from the medic and get back to Tyler’s condo so I could close my eyes for 12 hours.

“How is everyone doing?” I
asked, turning around so I wasn’t facing him while I spit again.

“They will be fine.  Margo is shaken up, but she won’t admit it. 
She’s going to go crash at the hospital with her father.  He has a room that has a really nice pull out couch so she won’t be alone.  Mom is doing a lot better.  She actually had her eyes open and was moving a little bit.  I think they are going to take her in just to make sure she is okay,” he said, trying to mask the uncertainty in his voice.

I spit again.  “It looks like RJ is taking good care of her,” I said, wanting to add
, for once, at the end of my sentence but refrained.

“Yeah I guess,” Tyler said quietly.  “Are you almost to your line
in that cup?” he asked, running his hand along my back.  “You are freezing.  Put my coat on.”

He dra
ped his jacket over my shoulders and rubbed them, trying to warm me up as I continued to spit in the cup.  The medic came by and looked at the disgusting phlegm with satisfaction.

“Al
l right, Becca, you are free to leave.  Make sure to go home and take a shower to get rid of any remaining chemicals on your body.  Here is a pamphlet with symptoms to watch for, but I’m sure you will be fine,” he said kindly.

I
thanked him as he took the cup, and I turned to Tyler.  Taking my hand, we walked over to the valet and waited patiently for the car.  Mary had been taken by ambulance and RJ traveled with her while Margo took a taxi back to the hospital to be with her father.

Tyle
r overly helped me into the car. He even tried to buckle my seat belt.  I gave him the ‘don’t patronize me’ eye and he backed off, taking his seat and starting the car.

I closed my eye
s and leaned back on the drive to Tyler’s condo.  It felt nice to sit down in the already warmed seat and even nicer to not have to focus with my eyes. “Someone locked the door to the bathroom while we were in it,” I whispered to Tyler.  The evening was starting to come back to me, and I was putting together the pieces that what had happened was indeed not an accident.

Tyler glanced at me, his hands firmly placed on the steering wheel.  “I
know.  Don’t worry about it; you will be safe with me, Becs.”

I left it at that.
I didn’t want to think about someone coming after me, Mary, or Margo.  All I wanted to think about was Tyler.

When we got to Tyler’s condo, he wanted to carry me up, but I refused and held his hand instead.

“Another night that was supposed to be perfect, ruined,” I sighed.  Tyler gave me a subtle smirk, but then pulled me close to his chest.

“I’m just glad I got to you in time,” he said, kissing my hair.  His arms felt so good.

We walked off the elevator, and I made a b-line for Tyler’s bed.  Before I could lay down, Tyler grabbed my arm.

“You have to shower, remember?” he
murmured, turning on the lamp beside the bed with his other arm.

I groaned and looked longingly at the bed.

“I know you are tired, but you have to get that crap off your body,” he said.  “I will join you.”

Tyler began taking off his tie and dress shirt.  A moment of disappointment spread through my mind.  I was supposed to slowly undress him tonight, take my time and savor him. 

Tyler caught my stare and stopped mid-button.  “What?” he asked confused.

I frowned.  “I was just hoping we could really focus on each other tonight,” I murmured, reaching for the zipper on my dress.  Tyler walked over to me and gently put his hand over mine.

“We still can, Becs,” he said, moving my hand to the side and slowly undoing my zipper.  I felt his fingers trace the back of the pale pink corset as the zipper went farther down my spine until it reached the bottom just above my behind.  My dress pooled at my feet as it fell off my body.

I heard Tyler take a deep breath as he ran his hand back up the corset, his fingers stopping to linger on each clasp.

“We don’t have to do anything tonight, Becca.  Just let me hold you all night.  I was scared to death I had almost lost you and holding you in my arms is the only thing that will ease my nerves.”

I slowly turned to face him, taking a step back so he could see me in full view.  “Tyler, I need this tonight.  I need you.  It’s been too long.  Please, let me savor you.”

Tyler cocked his head and stared at my body in contemplation.

I bravely stepped forward, putting my hands on his exposed chest, using one hand to find the trail of buttons he had yet to undo
on his shirt.

When my hand touched his chest
, it rose rapidly. His mouth became ajar and his hands found my waist.  I slowly undid each button then ran both of my hands up his abdomen and along his chest to his shoulders, moving the shirt off as I felt his skin.  Once his shirt was off his chest and shoulders, I reached for his cuffs, undoing each small button, helping him completely free himself of the white shirt.

My tired eyes took him in; his broad chest was
tan and smooth.  I reached up and placed my hands on his chest, running my thumbs along his clavicle.   His breath shuddered at my touch as I looked up at him through my eyelashes.

I further explored his chest, following the dips of his muscles, tracing them with my fingers down his abdomen as though I were burning the map of his body to my memory.  I reached his dress pants, slipping my fingers into the waistband, feeling for the button
.  They undid with ease, along with the zipper.  He helped to drop them and stepped out, pulling me so we were both free around our feet from our clothing.

“My turn,” he said, his voice deep and raspy
.  He brought his hands to my face, giving me a gentle kiss then moved his palms down my throat ever so slowly, completely erasing the burning sensation from earlier with his gentle touch.  His hands grazed my collarbone, his eyes watching his hands as they moved downward, his fingers running across the tops of my breasts.

He looked at my face now, his expression soft and calm.  He kissed my shoulder, moving his hands down my sides to my hips then pulled back licking his lips as he guided me to turn around.  Once
he turned me around, his hands gently pulled my hair to the side, running his fingers down the nape of my neck and along the back of the corset.

I felt his warm breath on my neck as he moved his hands to the clasps of the corset, undoing them at an agonizingly slow pace, kissing the back of my neck after undoing each clasp, letting his lips linger until he reached the next.

The last clasp came undone, and the corset fell to the floor. Tyler’s palms ran up my back to my shoulders then back down to my sides, resting on the pale pink panties.

I turned, facing him again.  I stepped back so he could look at me in the dim light as I dropped the remainder of my undergarments.  I was completely naked in front of him now, and I was greedy for his eyes to take me in.  I wasn’t the bashful girl who was afraid of Tyler’s reaction to my stretch marks
anymore; I wasn’t worried he would disapprove of my body like I had for so many years.  Tyler gave me a new found love and appreciation for my body, and I had never felt so comfortable in my own skin.  He owned me, and I wanted him to memorize every unwanted freckle, scar, and even stretch mark.  He loved me for me, imperfections and all.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered while gazi
ng shamelessly at me.  I sucked a breath in at the admiration on his face. I stepped closer to him again, reaching for his boxer briefs, slowly moving them down his legs, revealing all of him.  He helped to rid the fabric as I stood back. No embarrassment was on my face as my eyes retained every single line and shadow on his body.  There we stood, just gazing at each other, mere feet apart.

Tyler finally filled the space between us, reaching for my hands and holding them.  “Shower,” he whispered while lacing our fingers and holding them up to our sides.  “I’ll be damned if I don’t follow directions to take care of my love.”

I tilted my head to kiss him, no tongue, just slow tender plucks to his lips, gentle and soft movements.

Tyler guided me to the bathroom
and into the large shower that looked more like a closet.  Turning the dim light on, he started the shower and held me until it was warm.

“Step
in; I’m going to get a washcloth.”

I nodded my head, letting the warm water erase the toxins from my skin.  Tyler returned, we
tting the washcloth and gently massaging any of the tear gas out of my pores, taking his time on every inch of my body.  Once he was done with a section, he would kiss my skin as though his lips were the final mending touch. 

I ran my hands along his shoulders as
he leaned down to wash my legs.  I enjoyed the feeling of his strong hands working into my calves and thighs then the ever pleasant feeling of his lips caressing the cleansed spots.

Once I was cleaned to his satisfaction, Tyler did a quick clean of himself, letting my hands help where he wasn’t washing.  He shut off the water a
nd grabbed towels, wrapping one around his waist while he patted my body until I was completely dry.  He massaged my head with the towel, which felt like pure heaven, until my hair was merely damp. 

My eyes were still closed when he hung the towels. 

Like the prince charming he was, he swooped me off my feet, carrying me to the bed.  I didn’t even think about how I might be too heavy for him, because it didn’t matter.  He was my love, and he wasn’t thinking about my weight but about holding me all night in his arms.

He set me down momentarily to pull back the covers.  He guided me to
lie down on the bed and scooted in beside me, leaving the covers at our feet.  I laid on my back, my chest, stomach, and hips exposed.  His hands began to memorize my body again, running from my collarbone to my breasts and down my sides.  I didn’t even squirm when he rubbed his hand along my stomach then covered it with kisses.

“My Becs,” he murmured into my skin, making a trail from my stomach and back to my lips.

He kissed me deeply, but the connection we had was so much more than just physical.  Sex wasn’t on my mind, only how his hands were molding my skin, creating the perfect sculpture that defined our feelings for one another.