The Forgotten Wife

5. Red Handed

Aiden

I gently prod my ribs with my index finger. The mottled bruise yellows before darkening back to its original blue. I shift onto my side to relieve some of the aches in my body. It's been just over a week since I woke up after my motorcycle accident and my body still hurts with every movement.

I change the channel again to some midday news and try to catch up with what has been happening in the world. It's not particularly fun or interesting but I'm bored out of my mind and the only visitor I've had since the first day is Ethan. He makes sure to come and see me every day and he's been re-educating me about my company.

My mother called and offered to fly over but I told her not to bother, I don't need to be mothered so there is really nothing she can do to help.  It better if she stays in London with her new husband and my step sisters.  

Actually, I did get one other visitor, the police stopped by but since I can't remember the accident there wasn't much I could tell them.   They inform me that since it is my first drink driving offence I will be fined and disqualified from driving for six months.  

The terms are less severe than it could have been and I doesn't really put me out too much considering I can just use a car service when I have to.  

I desperate to get out of this bloody hospital room and back to my regular life. The doctors won't let release me until I can pass some kind of memory test for three consecutive days. It's to ensure I don't have another form of amnesia that affects my ability to create new memories. Honestly, I was lucky to figure out this much of what they were saying, their use of long medical terms is becoming exceedingly tedious. I've passed the last two days so I could possibly go home today, if I pass this last test.

I find myself obsessively watching the door every time it opens, I can't explain the small twinge of disappointment each time when I realise it's just another nurse come to check on me and adjust my medication.

I pretend I don't know who I'm waiting for but a small voice in the back of my head won't shut up. Her, you are waiting for her. Every day she doesn't visit, I grow more and more agitated. I don't even know why I care, I've only met her once and she was rather hostile towards me.

It must be because I desire her, there is no point denying that, I dreamt about her last night. It was the kind of dream that had me aching for her beneath me.

I kissed the dark brown freckle on the side of her neck as I tilted her head away from me to give me better access to her delicate skin. I continued my exploration of her by planting a kiss on her collar bone before dipping lower. Her body was sinfully smooth and incredibly responsive, even the smallest of touches provoked a soft gasp to part her plump lips.

I teased the harden peak of her nipple by lightly grazing my teeth along the dusty pink bud. I flicked my tongue across the top before sucking it completely into my mouth. It elicited a throaty moan from her that sent all my blood south, hardening my already painfully hard erection.

I can't be sure if it was a dream or a memory but it was incredible. It's also led to me replaying it over and over this morning resulting in my current predicament.

"Alright, I just need to check on your stitches and then we're done," Julia, my nurse, informs me.

I'm hard as a rock and the nurse is pulling back my blankets. 

Julia is a pretty girl and she's been flirting with me on and off all week but it doesn't make this any less awkward. She reaches for the hem of my shirt and slides it up towards my pectorals.