Sick Like Me (Sick Like #1)

Chapter 31

THIRTY-ONE

A rap came at my front door, and I couldn’t help but frown. I tried to rack my brain, tried to figure out if I had made any plans I had forgotten about. But my mind came up blank.

I was hesitant to go to the door, but decided to go and open it anyway. I doubted it was either of my parents as they weren’t due back until the middle of the month, and even then, they would stay at hotels and just text me to make plans. They never showed up at my house uninvited.

I carefully shut the screen of my computer off. I had been trying to dabble in some of my hobbies, such as gaming, but my brain remained foggy from the fever I had been sporting all throughout the week.

I dragged my feet to the floor, the sound of my slippers dragging against the carpet barely audible from how blocked my whole head felt. I got to the front door and turned the key to unlock it, then I cracked the door open carefully.

I blinked a few times, the bright white sky outside covered in clouds only elevating the throbbing behind my eyes. I bit back a groan, and once my eyes adjusted to the light, I noticed the tall frame of Dakota Vernon stood on my doorstep .

“Kota?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. I wasn’t trying to be quiet, my voice had genuinely gone and it was impossible to talk. My throat didn’t hurt, I had no cough, so why my vocal cords decided to betray me was beyond me. “What are you doing here?”

He looked me up and down, then raised an eyebrow. He said nothing, but his eyes shot to behind me into my house, a silent question asking if I was willing to allow him inside. I let out a sigh and stepped back, opening the door wider. “You should go, you might catch whatever the hell this thing is,” I waved my hand up and down my body, as if I was showing myself off as the perfect example of the thing .

“Move aside,” He stated, raising a plastic bag in his hand that I had failed to spot in the first place. I frowned slightly, wondering if I had texted him in my sick phased out state to pick items up for me. Nothing came to mind, but like a zombie, I turned and walked into my house leaving Kota to his own devices.

It was a risky move, but he had been inside my house a couple of times by then so I decided he was no threat to myself or my home.

I heard footsteps, the the front door close in a soft thud. I threw myself onto the sofa, closing my eyes. I heard his steps move closer to me, but I was in no mood to open my eyes to see what he was up to.

I heard the ruffle of the bag, then I heard his footsteps pass me. I heard his steps retreat into my kitchen, then I heard the doors of the kitchen cupboard open and close. “Has your little boyfriend come to see you?” He asked, trying to make a conversation without even saying his greetings.

“No, I told him to stay away,” I replied, mild irritation coating my insides at the mere mention of the man who claimed to want to spend all his time with me, yet when I fell sick, barley made the effort to check in on me .

“Well you said the same to me a few days ago, and yet here I am, hunting through your kitchen for a fucking clean bowl,” I heard Kota’s words turn into a frustrated grumble at the end.

I hadn’t done any washing in a few days. It was bad, I knew that, but I was barely in a state to stand even for a few minutes.

I heard the rush of water and some splashing, and then I felt bad that Kota seemed to be doing my dishes for me. But then again, he was choosing to do all that. I hadn’t asked him to come over, to invade my kitchen, or to touch any of my dishes. Why he needed a bowl was also something I had no energy to ask. I just accepted whatever it was he was planning.

I heard the water cease, then I heard the clatter of china. I heard my cutlery drawer rattle, and then the sound of a microwave whirring.

I had no idea how much time had passed, but eventually I heard his footsteps come back to the living room. I felt the sofa beside me dip, and then I felt his warmth and smelt his spicy citrus scent peaking out from the scent of what seemed to be chicken soup.

“Sit up properly,” He sounded annoyed, much how my father sounded when he had to wait in a queue for anything longer than twenty seconds.

I did as he commanded, opening my eyes to look at him. I felt as if my eyes were puffy and held dark bags under them. I had no doubt I looked like shit, and I never wanted him to see me as anything beyond pretty. But he seemed to pay my appearance no attention as he picked up the spoon resting in the bowl on his lap.

I noted he had made chicken noodle soup from a tin I assumed he had brought in his bag as I watched him raise the spoon to his mouth. He blew on the steam for a few seconds, then he moved the spoon to my lips. His eyes were locked in on my lips, and his own parter slightly as if he were urging me to follow the action .

So I did as prompted. I parted my lips, to which he gently pushed the spoon into my mouth. I closed my lips around the metal and sucked the liquid into my mouth, then I chewed the noodles pieces, corn and chicken.

The soup tasted great. It was warming and comforting, something I hadn’t known I had needed until that exact moment in time.

I watched as he placed the spoon back in the bowl, picking up some more soup. I smiled faintly, and believed the fever dream I had been having was one I never wanted to wake from.

Dakota Vernon would never come over my house unannounced, bear in mind take care of me while I was sick.

But I closed my eyes and enjoyed the feeling of having him them, knowing that when I woke from the dream, I would be alone.

My whole body ached, but the comfort of my firm memory foam mattress with my duvet being tucked under my body to my chin was enough to make me feel a moment of relief—even though it was fleeting.

I rolled over form my stomach onto my side, my eyes remaining closed. But when I turned, I was surprised to feel warmth from beside me. As if someone else had been sleeping on the other side of my bed.

I opened my eyes slowly and blinked, trying to come around from my nap haze. When I could finally register the view in front of me, I let out a small laugh.

“My fever really fucking hates me,” I mumbled, my eyes tracing the lines of his face as Dakota looked from his phone to me with his eyebrow raised. “It’s even made him appear before me. This is like some kind of punishment.” I mumbled on, closing my eyes .

But then I felt a gently hand press against my forehead. My eyes flew open in surprise at the fact I could feel the contact. My hand flung up to wrap around the other person’s while I looked right into his forrest green eyes.

When his fingers gently wrapped around my hand and squeezed, I sat with a startle and gasped. Either my fever had some magic fucking powers and could make me feel his ghost touches, or the man really was there.

My hands reached out to grab his face, turning it side to side as I tried to determined if he was really real, or a mega fever induced illusion.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, trying my best to keep my voice sounding normal. But my throat betrayed me, my voice fading in and out as if someone were playing with the remote volume controls to my voice.

I watched as he frowned, his eyes flickering to my arms as my hands still held his face. I gasped and dropped my hands, then rushed to grab my duvet to cover myself when a cold shiver racked my body and only made it ache even more.

“I came to take care of you, dumbass. Why the fuck else would I be here?” He asked, rolling his eyes before then went back to his phone. He seemed to be texting someone, and I couldn’t help but want to know who it was and what he was saying to them.

An unsolicited inner voice told me it was likely one of hundreds of women he had in his roster. I thought my every day inner voice was mean, but fucking hell, my fever induced ones wanted to really kick me when I was already on the floor.

I closed my eyes and I leant my back against my headboard with my pillows adding extra comfort behind my lower back. I sighed softly, wanting the throbbing to disappear more than anything else I had ever wanted in the world.

Okay, maybe it was the second most thing I wanted.

The first being the man sat beside me .

I opened my eyes again an turned my head to look at him. I noted on the floor beside him sat the same plastic shopping bag from earlier. It looked packed. I tried to raise my head subtly to see if it would allow me a peak inside.

But I found no luck.

The owner of the bag, however, had noticed my actions and let out a small laugh. He wrapped his hands around the handles of the bag and pulled it up onto his lap.

“So I picked up a few thing,” He began, sounding more like a doting boyfriend than a random man I fucked sometimes, a man who got me addicted to his attention.

“Yeah?” My voice sounded tired, almost sarcastic. It was against my will, my voice was betraying the real excitement I felt bubbling under my skin and in my heart.

He reached into the bag and pulled out three bottles of Lucozade. One orange, one pink, and one blue. “These are meant to be packed full of electrolytes. Don’t ask me what they do because fuck knows, I just know they’re good for people who may be dehydrated.”

His hand dove back into the bag, and with one hand, he pulled out three boxes of items. “Ibuprofen,” He began, dropping one box on the space between us. “For inflammation. Should help ease your through up a bit so you can maybe talk like a normal human again.” He smirked at me as I rolled my eyes at him, but my lips betrayed with me a warm smile.

“Paracetamol, to help get rid of that pesky little headache,” He continued as he dropped another box on the bed, the free hand closest to me gently poking between my eyebrows. Right where my headache throbbed.

What he was doing was the bare minimum a boyfriend or even a friend should do when you were sick, but it still made my heart flutter as fast as butterfly wings. Kota and I, we were… almost nothing. But he had gone out of his way to get these items for me, fed me, laid with me as I napped …

I was beginning to believe maybe I had more of an effect on him than I first believed.

“And some Lemsip. I got lemon because that’s the original flavour, but if you hate it and prefer the blackcurrant one, I can go and grab it?” He dropped the last box on the bed, throwing me a sideways glance.

I smiled and shook my head, a sign the one he had bought was more than good enough for me.

“I then bought us some snacks,” He stated as he dropped the bag back on the floor, some items still inside. “And I bought things like soups and bread, which I left on the kitchen table sorry. I had no clue where the fuck to put them. Your kitchen feels backwards to me,” He smiled, and it only made my own grow.

“Thank you,” I managed to croak out. A part of me wanted to hug him, or at least get close enough so I could rest my head on his shoulder. “You should probably leave soon though, what if you catch this?”

He shook his head, his smile as warm and inviting as a warm fire in the middle of an icy cold winter storm. “And leave you to fend for yourself? I saw the broken glass in the sink that you smashed earlier. No way.”

I had to stop from letting a noise of happiness escape my throat at the fact he had noticed that. He seemed to genuinely want to stay and take care of me, and why he would want to do so was a mystery to me.

“I noticed your neighbours are selling their house next door,” Kota broke the silence we had fallen into.

I frowned and went to turn my head to look out the window, but I felt a sharp pain in my neck and gasped. My hand flew up to where my neck met my shoulder, and I had realised I must have slept awkward.

“Are you okay?” Kota asked, a semblance of concern in his voice .

I nodded slowly before I turned to face the front of my room once again. My TV sat on the wall, the red light bright as if calling to me. If I asked him to watch movies with me, would he stay over and leave in the morning?

I couldn’t help but want to take advantage of the situation so I could get him to stay as long as I possibly could.

I felt my body rack with sudden warmth and huffed as I pulled my duvet off of me. I closed my eyes, wishing the hot and cold treatment my body was giving me would go. I could handle the headache and the barely-there voice, but the cold shakes and the hot flushes were exhausting to keep up with.

“What’s wrong?” Dakota asked, scooping up the boxes and placing them on my bedside table. He then grabbed the three drinks in his two hands and placed them on the table also. He then grabbed one of the three drinks, popped open the lid, then held it out to me.

I took it with a small smile and lifted the lid to my lips. I sucked to let the liquid release from the cap. I swallowed, then I finally answered his question. “My fever is kicking in again. I feel like I’m on fire.”

He looked at me for a second, seeming as if he were debating what to say. I watched him carefully, raising an eyebrow. “What are you thinking about?” I asked.

“Well,” He began, and I swore for a second he looked almost nervous. But as quick as it had dropped, he lifted the curtain once again and kept an aura of cockiness about him. I liked his vulnerable side. I wished he had kept the curtain down. “They say sweating a fever out is the best way to get rid of it…”

I nodded slowly. “Yeah, my father used to run me hot baths to try and see if it would make me sweat it out. Sometimes that would help.” I recited a memory from my childhood, smiling faintly at the memory of my father and I arguing over if I should put bubbles in the bath or not.

“The strong scent will make your headache worse, idiot!” My father had almost shouted at me, frustrated at the fact I was basically born to oppose him at every second of the day, no matter the situation.

I was a good (or bad, depending on the person you asked) mix of both my mother and my father after all.

“I have another suggestion to help you sweat it out, instead of a bath,” Kota began, a faint pink hue touching his cheeks. So faint that I believed it was something I had imagined. My fever haze was working against me on double time.

I raised an eyebrow, awaiting to hear his option. He watched me carefully, as if calculating if his next words were a good or bad idea. But as he took in a deep breath, it seemed as if his choice had been made.

“They say an orgasm helps with pain and headaches, so what if I give you one,” He offered, and I swore for a second he looked insecure at the idea of me possibly turning the offer down.

I was at a loss for words. I stared at him and blinked, trying to determine if what he had said was what I had really heard, or if my fever was making up some elaborate hallucination.

My lips parted, about to ask him if he were serious, but my tongue was traitorous and agreed to the offer before I could fathom if the offer was even real.

I saw Kota’s lips twitch up into a smile, but it wasn’t his regular smile. It was a cocky smirk, as if one he wore with pride. As if he were telling the world sure, why wouldn’t she let me fuck her?

I watched as he sat up straighter, eyeing me carefully like I were prey. “Pull that jumper up,” He commanded, and I then realised I had napped in a bed with the man when all I wore was a long oversized fluffy hoodie and nothing else underneath it.

I swallowed but did as he commanded. I grabbed the middle of the material, then I slid it up my thighs until the edge hit my lower stomach. At least I had shaved a few nights before during a ‘full body shower’ in an attempt to make me feel a little more human.

Kota wasted no time as he made his way to the edge of my bed and situated himself between my legs. I watched curiously. I had expected him to pull off his trousers and boxers. But he didn’t.

His hands reached out and gently touched my ankles. He looked into my eyes, as if he were a lion hunting a gazelle. I swallowed, feeling like I was reenacting scene from Animal Planet, or whatever the fuck it was David Attenborough voiced.

The innocent and gentle Ashton watched the threat approach, with his hands sliding up her calves.

I closed my eyes as I focused on the feeling. I wasn’t horny and hadn’t been for several days, however, it was as if his touch were made of magic as the area between my legs began to throb.

I felt his fingertips lightly ghost along my legs, up to my knees. I felt his fingers wrap firm, but the grip gentle, around my knees as he opened my legs wider and bent my knees up slightly.

I opened my eyes, watching him with perfect front row view from the position I had put myself in against the headboard.

I swallowed, my throat drying from the look he gave me.

I had always been self conscious at the idea of a man’s face being close to my pussy. I wondered if it would look ugly to him. Guaranteed cocks were far from pretty themselves, but it was an irrational fear I had.

Kota’s eyes seemed full of fire and oozed sex appeal, and it made me feel all the more self conscious. He seemed to sure of himself, so positive he would be able to make me come.

I watched as his hands moved from their place on my knees to massage up my thighs slowly, gently. I let in a gaspy breath, my eyes wanting to shut closed to focus on the feeling. But the look in his eyes warned me to keep them open.

So I kept my eyes locked in on him, watching as his hands ghosted higher and higher until they sat either side of my pussy .

I felt a rush of air to my heat as his hands parted my pussy open. I looked away, trying to get rid of all the self hatred thoughts. I wanted to feel good, and I wanted to be unashamed by it. But there was always something in the back of my mind telling me it was wrong unless I was doing it in the dark depths of my bedroom alone.

I waited with baited breath before I felt pressure pressed to my clit. My eyes snapped back to him, and I watched as I realised it was not his finger against my pussy. His face looked buried between my thighs, and I felt the tickle of his growing hair.

I gasped, the urge to push his face away overwhelming but not enough for me to act on. I kept a careful eye on him as the pressure switched to a flicking sensation.

I gasped and finally gave in, closing my eyes as I pushed all thoughts aside and allowed myself to feel the pleasure.

He flicked his tongue against my clit, and as if to throw me off guard, his lips wrapped around the area and he then sucked. The pressure felt delicious, and I felt my lower stomach and thigh muscles tighten with pleasure.

I bucked my hips ever so slightly. I felt his lips turned up into a smile against me. He hummed, and I let out a faint moan at the feeling. He then stopped the sucking motion, his tongue coming back to flick against my clit as I felt pressure at my entrance.

I felt his digit slowly enter me, the feeling of his tongue and the pressure inside my cunt enough to make my mind go hazy from all thought and reason.

I let out moan after moan as he pumped his finger, while his mouth switched between licking, sucking and humming against my clit. It felt amazing, way better than using my rabbit vibrator dildo.

I then felt a faint stretch, but it wasn’t enough to be uncomfortable or unenjoyable. If anything, it felt good.

The second finger finally reached inside me to his knuckle, and he pulled back enough to check the view out. I heard the smirk in his voice. “God, your pussy is sucking my fingers in. Even when you’re sick, you’re desperately hungry for my cock, hm?”

My whole body flushed at his dirty words. I wanted to come back to him with a quick sarcastic retort. But before I could, he went back to pumping his fingers and licking at my clit as if he were a starved man.

His fingers had been a gentle and easy pace, but this time around, he was pumping them almost brutally. It didn’t take long for the familiar knot to form in my lower stomach from the feeling of his fingers fucking me fast and hard, while his tongue sucked and flicked my clit as if it were some ice lolly you would enjoy on a summer day.

I arched my back, letting out a mix between a gasp and a moan. “I’m going to—” I began, my thigh muscles beginning to burn from being forced open for so long.

“Come for me angel,” He pulled away just enough to state before he went back. His fingers had become rougher, his sucking harder. The sensations were all too much, and I felt my orgasm wash over.

My whole body became warm as my thighs and lower stomach tense while my hips raised off the bed. I let out a loud moan, closing my eyes tight as white covered my vision.

His sucking and finger fucking continued, but at a much softer pace as he fucked me through the orgasm. Once my hips lowered to the bed and my moans turned to faint gasps once again, he slowly retreated from between my legs.

I watched as he placed his two fingers into his mouth. His kept his eyes on me, smirking as he sucked them clean of my juices.

“Now, how about we run you that hot bath you mentioned, yeah?”

I blinked in surprise. Sure, Kota had slept over the night I gave him a blow job, but he had rushed to fall asleep then leave the morning after. The fact he seemed to want to finally give me after care had made me delusional.

Delusional at the idea that I had to have been right. I was having an effect on him.

I smiled to myself as I nodded and sat up straighter. And with him help, he led me to the bathroom and run a hot bath for me, washing away all the sweat and fever form my body to the best of his abilities.

If I hadn’t known any better, I would have mistaken it for him falling in love with me.