by Gina Kincade
“Ah, umm, yes,” Grant said. Ignoring his stiff cock through dinner had been an unsuccessful challenge as he told her all about how he’d started leaving the Litchefield House he’d grown up in with his Grandmother, how he’d mastered most of his OCD tendencies and fears while she’d been alive. “Gramms had been my biggest champion,” he continued. “If it hadn’t been for her, I’d probably been some homeless bum on the street.” He half joked. “After her death, the grief consumed me and I’d regressed. My most stable clients stayed with me, the ones who’d suffered as bad as I needed to be referred to colleagues who could do home visits.”
He took a long sip of his wine. The decision to buy and move into the condo was his way of ensuring that he would continue to get better and not backslide into old habits.
“I admire you,” she said softly. “You’ve made amazing progress and helping others with your same condition.” She shook her head, eyes shining.
Grant said nothing, only shrugged, uncomfortable with her praise. There wasn’t anything about him to admire. When she rose and picked up the plates to clear the dishes, he halted her. “Let me get the dishes,” he said. He took the dirty plates from her hands and placed them back on the kitchen table. “It’s the least I can do for you feeding me. But before I do, there’s one more thing to apologize for. You may want to kick me out, yet.”
She lifted a brow, but said nothing.
“When I found you in my condo the other day...” He swiped a hand through his hair and resisted the urge to pace. “I wasn’t mad at you, I was angry at myself. Since leaving the ER the other night you had been on my mind a lot. Too much, actually, invading my dreams, my client sessions, and I was pissed that I was becoming obsessed with a woman I’d barely met.”
“You’ve been on my mind, too,” she admitted softly. “But why would that make you angry?”
“Because, Kate, fixations are dangerous for a guy like me with my OCD tendencies...” his voice trailed off. He exhaled a ragged breath. “Anyway, I want to apologize for being rude and overly harsh, but when I saw you in my condo dancing the tango looking all gorgeous, sexy, and carefree. I guess I was a more than a bit envious of that.” As well as horny, but Grant thought it best to leave his cock out of the conversation.
She searched his face. “You don’t trust yourself, do you?”
“No,” he said flatly. “Not when I want something so much it hurts.”
Kate’s eyes darkened and she chewed her bottom lip, seeming to ponder what he’d said. Without saying a word, she picked up the abandoned dinner plates and took them over to the kitchen sink. The silence stretched between them, giving new meaning to that old saying on pins and needles. He needed to know what she was thinking.
Grant came up behind her so close that he could smell the exotic berry fragrance of her shampoo but he refrained from touching her. His gut clenched. “Kate?”
She turned and gazed up at him, trust burning in those amazing brown eyes of hers. “I think you sell yourself too short, Grant,” she said. “I trust you. Maybe enough for both of us.”
“You shouldn’t,” he said a bit too harshly.
He groaned, conflict and lust warring within him. Lust won out and their mouths came together, hot, hungry and impatient, their tongues meeting in a melding of lips. Kate’s arms encircled his neck as she met him stroke for stroke while Grant’s hands palmed her firm ass, hiking her upwards so she had no choice but to wrap her legs around his hips. He rubbed her core against his stiff cock, marveling at the rush of sensations rushing through his body.
Lifting his head he asked, “Where?” He growled.
“This way,” she said. “Our floor plans are identical. I—”
Grant swallowed her words with another hungry kiss and carried her down the hall to her bedroom without breaking contact. The flavor of wine and spicy tomato sauce lingered on her tongue and it was the most erotic thing he’d ever tasted. Inside her room the shades were pulled and the soft glow of the bedside lamp lit the room. He tortured himself with the feel of her body as he eased her off him, gently placing her feet on the floor.
He shed his suit jacket and shoes in record time while she kicked off her sweatpants. Impatient to see all of her, he pulled the old baseball T-shirt over her head and swore while drinking in the silky black lace demi bra and matching thong with tiny red lipstick imprints in the fabric greedily. “Jesus Christ, Kate, you had that on all this time under those old sweats? You’re going to fucking kill me.”
Her lips curved and there was a definite satisfied gleam in her heated gaze. “Yes, but I kept my clothes on all through dinner,” she said cheekily.
Running his hands down the sides of her arms, her bodied shivered. “Cold?” he asked.
“No, just a bit nervous.” She slid her hands down the front of his dress shirt and started on the buttons.
“Kate, wait,” Grant said, grasping her hands pinning them to his chest. “I want this so badly, but I don’t want to—” Uncertainty gripped him. “I told myself I wasn’t going to rush you. I was just going to come over here, apologize, take you out for dinner in a restaurant, which terrified the hell out of me by the way, and be civilized. And here I am in your bedroom—”
“Shhh,” Kate said, silencing him with a finger to his lips. “You’re not rushing me.” Rising up on her toes, she kissed him softly. “I want this just as badly as you do, Grant. Maybe more. And I can’t believe I’m going to be the one to say this, but shut up already and fuck me. I need you inside me like yesterday.”
Grant laughed, the sound shocking him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually laughed. “You’re adorably impossible,” he said, sliding one bra strap off her bare shoulder and running his other hand down her side.
Her skin was so fucking soft. He let his palm roam lower passed her hip to her inner thigh. He slid his fingers under the laced edge of her panties and felt how wet she was. Grant groaned. She was so fucking sexy. “I love these,” he said, trailing moist kisses along the shell of her ear. “But they’re going to have to go,” he rasped, ripping them off in one fluid stroke.
“Grant!” Kate half-heartedly complained and giggled. “Those were new.”
“I’ll buy you more,” he said. He reached behind her and unclasped her bra and she let the tiny bit of lace fall to the carpet.
His hands slid between her legs again, finding her clit and stroking slow firm circles, his mouth slanted over hers, demanding she give in to him. He penetrated her slick heat with one fingertip and her hips bucked toward his hand seeking more, but he held back.
“Not yet, love,” he murmured, gliding the silky wetness over her tight bud. He was dying to taste her honey but willed himself to have patience. As it was, he doubted he would last very long once he was buried deep inside her.
Grant almost laughed out loud. What a joke. When it came to this woman, patience was a four-letter word. He backed her up toward the bed. Her legs hit the mattress and he eased her on top of it, spreading her legs wide and kneeling before her. Fuck patience. He slid two fingers all the way inside her easily.
“There are so many wicked things I want to do to you,” he said, voice gruff and thick with need. Shit, he was practically salivating.
“Yes,” Kate said on a moan, hips bucking against his hand. “Do all of them,” she demanded. “Every single one.”
Grant nipped her inner thigh, kissing his way toward her center, mouth watering. He couldn’t remember when he’d wanted anyone as much as he wanted Kate Sumner. His tongue swept up her center and satisfaction filled him as he got his first taste of her and growled. She tasted so damn exotic, he craved more. Like a starved man, he licked, sucked, and teased her pussy until Kate writhed and bucked under his ministrations. When he sucked her clit hard into his mouth she lifted her hips up off the bed.
“Oh God, Grant. Keep doing that, and I’m going to come,” she said.
He pumped his fingers deep inside her in rhythm to his tongue, loving t
he little sounds she made as the tension drew her body taught.
“Grant!” she screamed, grasping his head and holding him in place as her body shuddered and writhed beneath his mouth.
Greedy, he lapped up her juices, relishing the little aftershocks rippling through her.
Kate shoved at his head. “Mercy,” she cried. “For the love of all the saints and angels above, mercy.”
Chapter Eight
Kate lifted her head with an effort and glanced at Grant. His tongue licked his lips as he stared at her bare mound. Slowly, provocatively, he licked his lips again, as if he wanted nothing more than to indulge in his favorite treat. Her toes curled.
“That was amazing,” she said, voice husky. “But I’m a glutton, and I need more.”
“Oh?” he said. Standing, he shed his clothing quickly and joined her on the bed, crawling up the length of her heated body. She ran her palms down his back to his oh-so-tight ass and squeezed, wrapping her legs around him, poising him at her slick entrance. “Wait,” he said, breathing hard and pulling back just a bit. “As much as I’d love to just plunge straight into heaven, love, I don’t have a condom. I wasn’t planning on...” his voice trailed off.
The look of absolute misery on his face cheered her heart. Oh, Lord. Do not get attached to this man. His lost, dejected from the world and you’re my only friend persona was sucking her into his vortex.
“Lucky for you, I’m like a boy scout. Prepared for any emergency,” she said with a wicked smile. “Night table drawer.”
As if he were on the Olympic Track Team, he reached over, opened the drawer, fetched a condom, and sheathed himself in record time. “Now where was I,” he murmured seductively into her ear. He braced an arm on either side of her head as the hard tip of him nudged her opening.
Her core muscles clenched in anticipation of his thick hard length filling her.
“What do you need, Kate,” he murmured, taking one puckered nipple into his mouth, sucking hard before the edges of his teeth scraped the sensitive bud.
A vortex of sensation burst within her. She arched her back, giving him more access. “Every hard inch of you deep inside me.” She gasped, bucking her hips, her need rising like an inferno scorching every part of her. “I want you to fuck me hard, fast, and lose your fucking mind while you’re doing it,” she said, her own mind a lust-filled haze. Never had she wanted anything so badly. Later in the light of day, she’d analyze her frenzied and crazed behavior, but for now she opened her legs wider, trying to take more of him.
“Every inch?” He groaned. “Damn, Kate,” he said, sliding in a bit farther and withdrawing, torturing them both. “You keep talking like that and I’m going to embarrass myself by coming right here and now.”
“Deeper, Grant,” she demanded. “I need more,” she begged. “I want you so deep inside it hurts.”
“Fuuuuuck,” he said, drawing out the expletive as he suddenly drove into her hard.
Kate saw stars behind her closed lids and gasped. Her feet dropped to the bed, her body fought against the sharp twinge of pain. It was a good pain. The kind of pain that when she walked funny later she’d have a stupid smile on her face remembering the reason why.
Grant stilled, his labored breathing near her ear. “You okay?”
“Mmmmmmm,” was all Kate could manage.
“I’m going to lose control, Kate,” he said, voice gruff.
“I want you to,” she said, grabbing his ass and tugging him closer. “Lose your mind, your body, your fucking soul,” she demanded. “I want everything, Grant. Give me everything you’ve got. No holding back.” She tightened her core muscles around his thick shaft. A tremor ran through him.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” He growled. Taking her head into his hands and grabbing two fistfuls of hair, he drove into her. “You’re so damn wet, hot, and greedy for me. It’s making me crazy.”
He continued to thrust hard and deep. She gasped as that delicious twinge of pain continued as his shaft obeyed her demands. Nails digging into the flesh of his shoulders, she met him stroke for stroke, daring him to lose his last vestige of control. She wanted him like this. Lost in a sexual haze of abandonment.
The tension built within her a second time as she writhed in pleasure and pain beneath him. She was so close. “Grant,” she pleaded, losing her mind. “Don’t stop. I’m close.”
Their gazes met and locked. The passion and possession Kate saw in the intense, dark blue of his gaze scorched her down to her very soul.
“Yes,” he hissed, his jaw clenched. “Let me feel that tight, wet pussy come all over my cock.”
His hand reached between them and his finger stroked her clit with teasing, fast flicks. Exploding, Kate’s eyes rolled back into her head as she cried out his name over and over while her pussy obeyed his command, convulsing around his shaft. Breathing ragged, she opened her heavy lids in time to watch Grant’s face. With a few short pumps of his cock, agony mixed with ecstasy spread across his features as he stiffened and came inside her. He nuzzled her neck, kissing her. Kate tightened her legs around him and sighed, sleepy. She yawned near his ear.
He chuckled. “That spectacular, huh?”
“Mmmmmmm,” she managed, snuggling closer to the warm heat of his flesh. She had no idea where the covers went to and the air-conditioned condo cooled her sweat-slicked skin.
“Be still, my ego,” he said, disengaging himself.
Eyes closed, Kate heard him move to the bathroom where she assumed he discarded the used condom. The tap water ran for a minute or so before the tread of his heavy steps came back into her bedroom. She felt the coolness of the bed linens cover her body, the dip of the mattress as he climbed in next to her and snuggled in close behind her with his chest against her back, one leg possessively wrapped around hers and his large palm possession of her breast.
“Sleep well, love,” he murmured against her hair.
With a contented sigh, Kate allowed sleep to overtake her.
Chapter Nine
Kate’s cellphone vibrated in her scrub pocket. She was about to answer when the all too familiar blast of Magnum PI’s theme song filled the nurse’s station. “I got it,” she called out to no one in particular. Picking up the hand held radio, she cradled the receiver in one ear with pen poised over a generic intake sheet. “Phoenix General ER, go ahead,” she said.
“Phoenix ER, this is Life Flight One. How do you copy?”
“Loud and clear,” Kate replied.
“Copy that, Phoenix General. We are in bound with a 45-year old male involved in a roll over MVC. He’s currently sedated, intubated with fluids wide open. Head trauma visible. Right pupil blown. No breath sounds on right. Needle decompression performed several times. Possible pelvic fracture, open tib fib fracture. He’s on a fentanyl, versed, and norepinephrine drips. Last set of vital signs heart rate 135, respiratory rate 32, blood pressure 88/44, oxygen sats 89% on a 100% oxygen and end tidal CO2 25. ETA 15 minutes. Any questions?”
“Copy that, Life Flight One. No, no questions. Fly safe and we will be ready for you guys when you get here. Phoenix General out.” Kate placed the receiver back in its cradle and activated the trauma team.
By the time the flight team arrived with the patient in the trauma bay, all disciplines were ready to go to work. X-rays were taken, blood drawn, and primary and secondary assessments were completed. Once all of those interventions were accomplished, Dr. Henderson called for a chest tube insertion for the hemopneumothorax that was the cause for the absent breath sounds in the right lung. The combination of blood collected there with the puncture of the lung didn’t permit for adequate gas exchange or for the lung to inflate properly. A chest tube allowed for the blood to drain and for re-expansion of the lung.
Several hours went by while the team worked to stabilize the patient, obtain cat scans of his head, chest, and pelvis completed before he went to the operating room. From there, the patient would be admitted to the intensive care unit. Every so ofte
n, Kate’s phone would vibrate in her pocket, but she ignored the persistent buzz.
Stripping off the blood stained plastic isolation gown, she glanced around the trauma bay and sighed. It looked like a bomb had gone off with the cupboards open, used chest tray, central line insertion kit, discarded syringes, caps, empty intravenous Lactated Ringer liter bags all littering the floor. Some of the debris was mixed with the patient’s blood. “What a mess,” she said.
“Ya,” Brian, one of the ER techs said. “He was one messed up, dude, too. I can’t believe his alcohol level was 335!” He let out a low whistle.
“Another fine example of why alcohol and driving a car doesn’t mix,” Kate agreed. “Thank goodness no one else was hurt in the accident.” She discarded her soiled gloves, her hands slick with sweat from having them on so long.
Her phone buzzed once more. After washing and drying her hands, she retrieved the device from her pocket. “Will you call housekeeping, Bri? I’m starving and I’ve had to pee for like eons. All the sharps are taken care of.”
“Sure thing, Kate. Have a good one,” he said.
She looked down at her cell in her palm, curious as to who had been blowing up her phone for the last couple of hours. Excitement swelled, but she dared not hope.
7:32 PM Sexy Neighbor: I’ve got to know...
7:33 PM Sexy Neighbor: What are you wearing?
Kate laughed. She hadn’t heard from Mr. OCD since he’d snuck out of her bed in the wee hours of the morning a few days ago. Since she was a night shifter, she didn’t do mornings, unless it was at an all night bar where her and her co-workers would get off at 7 AM and go to church. And church meant cocktails and shop-talk where they gossiped over the latest hair raising events in the ER. Now, as she scanned the texts on her phone, her heart ratcheted up several notches as his words brought back panty melting memories.
