She perched on the edge of the bed and smoothed a hand over the thick stubble on his cheek. (She hadn't told him, but that intensely scruffy look on him was insanely hot.) His bruises had faded from black to yellow and the bandage above his eyebrow was gone, the gash there scabbed over. Overall, he looked a thousand times better than he had the day of his accident. "What's my part of your plan? Donning some scrubs and wheeling you out on a gurney?" she asked with a playful lilt to her voice.
Big smirked and palmed her denim clad hip. "I was thinking more along the lines of a tight, black cat suit," he replied thickly.
Alisha laughed. "How would a cat suit be inconspicuous in sneaking you out of the hospital?"
"Dunno," he shrugged, a grin forming on his lips. "Was thinking you'd just look fucking hot in it and then I didn't get any further." She shook her head at him but giggled and pressed her lips warmly against his. "I can't wait to get out of here so I can have sex with my lady friend," he said lowly against her mouth. He chuckled when she pulled away and scowled at him.
"I don't care how many times you try and use that term to desensitize me to it, Jake, it's not funny."
"It's hilarious, Shorty." He poked at her face until she smiled. "But seriously, once I'm outta here, I'm taking you on a date and then we're gonna have sex and make this relationship all official like."
Alisha sighed and pressed her lips together to keep the smile from forming. "I was unaware that we weren't official until we had the sex," she said, amused.
"And a date," he reminded her. "'Cause I'm classy like that."
"Yes, if you look up class in the dictionary your picture is listed under the definition," she said dryly.
"Right?"
She rolled her eyes. "I was being facetious."
"Fa-what?" Alisha pushed to her feet and he grabbed her wrist, and chuckling, pulled her back down on the bed. "Relax, babe. I know what facetious means." (Honest, he did.)
The door to his room opened again and a middle-aged nurse walked in.
"Yo, Betty," he greeted. "Am I getting' outta here today or what?" he asked, his hand resting comfortably high on Alisha's thigh.
"Yes, Mr. Biggerman you are," Betty replied, flashing them both a warm smile.
Alisha turned and smiled brightly at Jake. He smirked and squeezed her leg.
"I've got your discharge paperwork here and your prescriptions. I just spoke with the doctor and he gave me your discharge instructions. He wants to see you in a week to check your progress. I've included his office number, so call and set up an appointment. You're not to lift anything heavier than 40 pounds until the doc gives you the okay. And," she said, pausing to look up briefly at the patient and his girlfriend, "you are to refrain from sexual intercourse for the next four to six weeks."
Alisha's eyes went wide but she said nothing. She wanted to look at Jake's face, but she was afraid he'd kick her out of the room because she was sure she'd laugh.
Big's face fell and any elation he felt previously over getting out of the damn hospital had been murdered. "Betty, you're not funny."
"I'm not joking. You sustained very serious injuries and you're recovering from surgery," she informed him matter-of-factly.
"So I can't have sex?" he asked, baffled.
"For four to six weeks, that is correct."
Four to six weeks? Un-fucking-acceptable. "Jerking off is still cool though, right? 'Cause four to six weeks without that—not happening'."
Alisha closed her eyes and felt her cheeks grow warm with embarrassment.
The nurse barked out a quick laugh and tried to mask it with a cough. "Masturbation is acceptable."
"Sweet," Big said, nudging Alisha. "Means your mouth and hands are good, too," he told her, wagging his brows.
She gasped and felt her face flame and her temper flare. She wanted the earth to open up and swallow her whole for embarrassing her so spectacularly.
"Mr. Biggerman, I suggest if you ever hope to have any part of your girlfriend's person touch you again that you shut your mouth and shut it now."
Big's mouth snapped shut and he sat silently just blinking owlishly at the nurse. He could feel Alisha's body vibrating with laughter after the nurse 'put him in his place.' He didn't think it was very fucking funny at all and he suspected she wouldn't either once she was forced to endure a four-to-six-week drought of Bigzilla-style lovin'. Motherfucker.
"Smart boy," Betty laughed. "Just need you to sign these forms and you'll be free to leave."
He hastily scribbled his signature on all of the necessary forms and handed them back.
"Press the call button when you're ready and we'll bring a wheelchair down for you." With that, she turned on her crepe soled shoes and breezed out the door.
"No fucking for four to six weeks? Are they kidding me with this?" he groused, pushing his body up higher in the bed.
"Jake," she sighed, "you're recovering. It'll be fine." Though she wasn't entirely sure that she could last that long without him either.
Big scoffed and rolled his eyes before wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her towards him. "It's unfair, Lisha. We just got shit figured out and now I can't have sex with my hot la—girlfriend. Could this day seriously get any worse?"
When the door opened at that exact moment and his mother and sister walked in arguing about ice cream flavors (no fucking lie) he wished he'd learn to keep his damn mouth shut once in a while.
"Lisha, baby," he grumbled, pulling a pillow from behind his head and handing it to her, "just smother me now and put me out of my misery."
By the time he walked through the front door
