by Jill Shalvis
Dropping his gaze, his chest rose and fell with his uneven breathing as he looked at the breasts she knew damn well were too small. Thinking it, she lifted her hands but he caught them, held them at her sides.
“Are you saying no?” he asked thickly.
“Ty—”
“Are you?”
His eyes were fathomless, his body tense. Against her belly she could feel him, hard and pulsing. He wanted her. He wanted her in a way she hadn’t been wanted in too long. “I’m not saying no,” she said softly.
The tension left him in a long sigh. “Thank God,” he murmured, and let go of her wrists to cup her breasts. “You’re beautiful.”
And in that moment, she felt it.
“And these…” His thumbs rasped over her nipples, making her let out a horrifyingly needy sound. “Oh yeah, these…” Bending his head, he swirled his tongue over one, then blew a soft, warm breath over it, forcing that sound from her again. “Mmm. A perfect mouthful.” Proving the point, he sucked her into his mouth, laving her with his tongue over and over until she’d refisted her hands in his hair and tossed back her head, panting for air.
It wasn’t enough. Kicking off her shoes made her even shorter but she didn’t care. Rising up on the balls of her feet, she hooked a leg over his hips and strained against the swollen ridge of his erection.
That ripped a deep, deep groan of pleasure from his chest and he pulled back to look at her with eyes heavy with desire. “Last chance.”
She tugged at the tie of his sweats, making him let out a laughing moan. “Okay, so you don’t want a last chance.” With a not-so-gentle shove, he pushed her backwards, tumbling her to the mattress. He put a knee on the bed and grabbed the hem of her overalls. Looked at her. Pulled. Tossing them over his shoulder, he did the same with her tank top, leaving her in just a light-blue silky thong.
“Now.” His other knee hit the bed. Towering over her, he looked down and let out a smile that made her swallow hard. “Let’s discuss this lingerie thing you have going.” With one finger he traced the silk down her hip, over her mound, stopping just shy of the spot that would make her a complete wanton.
“I— It’s—”
“And this stuttering thing. That’s new.” His smile was tight and just a bit intimidating as he hooked a finger in the panties and whipped them off.
“You’re overdressed,” she managed to say when he just looked down at her, his eyes shining like crystal and very intense.
“Yeah. About that.” On his knees leaning over her, he’d gone utterly still. “I should tell you, I can’t move.”
“Oh, Ty!” Scampering up to her knees, she faced him, putting her hands on his bare, hot, deliciously hard chest. “I’m sorry, I—”
He put a finger to her lips. “Don’t even think about being sorry or turning back into a doctor.” Very slowly, very carefully, he lay down on his back. Then let out a slow breath.
“Okay?” she asked, leaning over him now, their positions reversed.
Lifting his hands, he cupped the breasts that were in his face. “Very okay.” Raising his head, he replaced his fingers with his tongue, leaving his hands free to skim down her spine, down the backs of her thighs, which he urged open. Grabbing one leg, he pulled, so that she fell over his chest, straddling him.
She was careful to brace herself high, on his pecs, rather than press on his ribs. “Still okay?”
His hands glided up her legs, her hips, her waist, cupping and squeezing her breasts before sliding down the quivering muscles of her stomach. “So damn okay.” His hands met over her belly button, and his thumbs danced down, down, until they slid into the curls at the apex of her thighs.
“Ty—”
“Oh yeah. Love it when you say my name like that. Like you’re hot and shaky and on the edge. On the edge for me.”
She was. Hot and shaky and on the edge. For him. She ached with it, ached with the desire and emptiness and the need for him to fill her up.
“I’ve wanted you since that first moment I saw you,” he said, sinking his thumbs lower, making her gasp. “Say you want me back.”
She cried out when he gave one long, slow, sure stroke of his thumb right where she needed it. “I want you.”
“Then take me. Take us both the hell away.” His voice was rough, and when she lifted up, yanked down his sweats and came right back on him, gliding hot, damp skin to hot, damp skin, he groaned.
“Nicole—” He tried to surge up, hurt himself, and let out a pained, frustrated growl.
“Shh.” She pressed him back. “Let me—”
“Yes.”
“Don’t move.”
“I won’t if you will,” he swore, and their next kiss was an avaricious feeding frenzy of mouth and teeth and tongues and wordless murmurs and demands, while their hands tore at each other. She stroked his chest, then ran her fingers down his belly to wrap a fist around the hot, velvety steel of him, while he did something magical with his fingers, leaving her a gasping, panting mass of nerve endings. The tension inside her built and pulled and made her crazy, more so when he rubbed his straining erection back and forth over her exposed, swollen flesh.
“Condom,” he said through gritted teeth. “Nightstand.”
“Got it.” She tore it open, straddled him again. Took him in her hands and protected them both. Then he took over, guiding her over him so that he brushed against her slick opening. Gripping her hips, pulling her down as he thrust up, he slid home, stretching her, filling her to the hilt.
The sensation of having him inside her was so powerful, so…complete, she sobbed out his name and fell over him to meet his mouth with hers. His grip on her hips tightened, and he lifted her almost entirely off him before plunging her downward again, harder.
“Oh, my— Ty.”
“I know.” His head fell back and his powerful body quivered beneath hers. “I know.”
Her legs tightened at his hips as she lifted herself back up, slowly moving him in and out of her body in a delicious, sensual ride, going faster, then faster still as the pressure built. Her pulse beat in her throat, her breath soughed in and out of her lungs as they hammered each other, over and over. Nothing had ever felt like this, no one had ever made her feel like this, as if she was home right there in his arms. Each thrust, each flex of his hips brought her closer, and then he tugged her down and put his mouth to a breast.
She exploded, and like the entire frenzied mating, there was nothing easy or slow about it. Shudder upon shudder shook her body, rippling across her flesh, until she was nothing but an exposed nerve ending, weightless and helpless as what felt like a train wreck occurred in her head, her heart, her soul.
Vaguely, from far, far away, she heard Ty cry out, too, felt him go rigid beneath her as he found his own release. His fingers dug into her hips as he pumped into her body, hard, one last time.
Seeing him, hearing him while he sought his pleasure, unbelievably triggered yet another tremor within her, and her body arched mindlessly into his as she lost herself again.
The next thing she felt were his strong, warm arms pulling her down, turning them both, so they lay face-to-face, limbs entangled. His heart hammered against her cheek while she continued to try to catch her breath. She couldn’t. She felt battered, bruised and yet so wildly euphoric she was surprised she wasn’t floating high in the air.
Oh yeah, she was at home here in his arms, and given how relaxed Ty felt next to her, he felt at home, too. And just like that, for the first time in Nicole’s entire adult life, she felt good at something other than work.
10
WARM AND SATED, Nicole opened her eyes and found Ty watching her through his own half-opened baby blues.
He was so beautiful. It wasn’t often she needed a physical release, which meant it wasn’t often she’d had recreational sex. But this…this had been nothing like her previous sexual encounters.
First of all, she’d had an orgasm. Easily. Almost from just looking at him. Second, sh
e’d nearly wept at the intensity of it.
And third, she wanted to do it again.
But Ty didn’t utter a single word. He didn’t have to, as with each passing second, his gaze grew more pained, more exhausted.
And more guarded.
“Go to sleep,” she whispered, a weariness replacing her pathetic, and it seemed, premature, joy.
His lids fell shut. Without a word.
And when he was out like a light, she left.
Without a word.
TY WASN’T SURPRISED when he awoke alone, but damn, he had to admit to feeling disappointment. If he was smart, he’d attribute that to the morning hard-on that wouldn’t quit even after a gut-sucking cold shower. But even he knew enough to admit his problem wasn’t physical.
Before he could give too much thought to the matter, he called Nicole at home. What he planned on saying, he hadn’t a clue. Hey. Good orgasm, huh? Or, Why did you leave? I wanted to get laid again.
Maybe he should stick with the truth. I woke up reaching for you and when I found you gone I was lonely as hell.
But in the end, he said nothing because he got her answering machine and hung up. She’d left without a word, and he should have the grace to accept that. Last night had been nothing more complicated than two adults taking care of their needs.
He just hoped he got to take care of her needs again soon.
He went about his day, somewhat heartened that he didn’t feel like throwing up every time he moved. And then there was the fact his entire body hummed with the remembered vibrations of spectacular sex.
And it had been spectacular. Fireworks, earthquake, the entire enchilada.
Not that he hadn’t had really spectacular sex be fore, but…ah, hell. He’d never had really spectacular sex before. Not like that anyway, where he’d really, truly lost control, giving everything he had over to a woman, keeping his eyes open when he came so that he could see into hers, and feel her heart and soul while she did the same.
Scary stuff.
Work helped a little, as he was swamped. And when he went by Taylor’s building to discuss the plans with her, he told himself he would just peek in on Nicole.
Just to say hey.
Naturally, she was at work. Most likely not even thinking about him.
Taylor and Suzanne plied him with food and laughter. It felt good, which was strange. Normally such a thing would smother him. After all, he hadn’t even slept with either of them and they wanted to spoil him and talk to him and…be friends.
It wasn’t often he’d been friends with a woman, much less two of them, but resisting either Taylor or Suzanne was pretty much impossible.
Plus, he liked them, at least until he was reminded that the engagement party was that night and as their friend, he was expected to attend.
Two more strings on his heart.
And seeing as he had those strings, he figured he might as well go all the way. Once again, he drove to the youth hostel and asked for Margaret Mary.
And once again was told sorry. Only this time, he was sorry, too. She’d moved out, moved on, he was told.
Ty gripped the front desk and wondered at the drop in his stomach. “Moved on to where?”
The young kid shrugged. “I think she said she was interested in seeing Seattle.”
Seattle. One thousand miles away. Did she have a car? Did she have money? Or was she out there, all alone, no means and no friends, and too young to know danger when she looked it in the face?
Ty had no idea what his sudden rush was, but he raced home for his e-mail.
Nothing. No long, windy messages from her, no short appealing messages from her, nothing.
What did that mean? Had she given up on him? It wouldn’t surprise him, as he deserved exactly that.
For the first time, he initiated contact.
Margaret Mary of Dublin,
I am Irish and I am stubborn and I am sorry. I know this is nothing but a lousy excuse, but please try to understand. Family has never given me anything but pain and suffering.
But I have the feeling you would have been different. I don’t know what changed my mind, whether it was the fall on my head (long story) or the fact that I woke up alone this morning and knew I’d done that to myself (another long story).
So Margaret Mary of Dublin, am I too late?
Ty Patrick O’Grady, your brother.
Leaning back in his chair, Ty looked out of his great big picture window at the San Gabriel Mountains. What a glorious view this huge house gave him.
This huge, empty house.
When had that happened? When had the house become too big, too quiet? There had been a time when that’s all he’d wanted, his own space and quiet.
But now, he needed…more. What, exactly, he wasn’t certain.
But definitely, things were missing. And, if he was admitting such things, people.
He was missing people.
NICOLE MANAGED, with a good amount of swearing and disgust, to get herself ready for the engagement party that night. She also managed to avoid Taylor and her bag of makeup and hair stuff by staying late at work, because nylons, a fancy dress, mascara and a dab of gloss was as good as she was going to give.
The party was taking place at Ryan’s house, which Suzanne was moving in to. The moment Nicole walked in, she was assaulted by the scent of delicious food—thank God—and music and laughter.
And hugs. Everyone wanted to hug her. Suzanne. Taylor. Ryan. She pushed away Suzanne and Taylor because they were hooting and hollering at her in the dress, and let Ryan in for a good long hug.
“Hey, that’s my almost-husband,” Suzanne protested when Ryan, tall, dark and gorgeous, hugged Nicole back.
“Just being sisterly,” Nicole said, and gave Ryan a smacking kiss on the lips, enjoying Suzanne’s hiss and Taylor’s laugh.
Then another man walked up to them. He was tall, dark and gorgeous too, more so, if that was even possible, with sharp blue eyes, a sometime-Irish accent and attitude to match hers.
“Hey,” she said, a little defiantly, but damn it, she suddenly felt…conspicuous.
That Ty’s gaze nearly gobbled her up from head to toe and all the spots in between didn’t help. “Hey, yourself,” he said.
Suzanne pulled Taylor and Ryan away with a completely obvious and annoying wink.
Leaving her alone with Ty. Unable to stand still, she shifted on the stupid heels, nibbled off her gloss. Before she could stop herself, she tugged at the hem of her dress. Damn, she felt stupid. Exposed.
Ty stepped closer, and she shifted again, feeling the need to smack him. Kiss him. If only she was dressed in jeans.
Then Ty put a hand on her waist and squeezed gently. “You steal my heart.”
Ah, hell. When he said shit like that, her heart just tipped right on its side. “Stop it.”
“It’s true. You’re amazing.”
“A pair of heels and a ridiculous dress make me amazing?”
“No, your heart makes you amazing,” he said softly, and stroked her jaw. “You got all dressed up for Suzanne. You love her.”
“I knew she’d have good food.”
He shook his head. “Play tough if you need to, I see right through you.”
Yeah. He did, he saw right through her.
Terrifying.
NICOLE’S PLAN was to stay busy at work. That way she didn’t have to think about Ty. The way he’d looked so good at the engagement party she’d wanted to gobble him up whole. The way he’d whispered those hot, sexy words in her ear as he held her close, which was every moment. The way his intense eyes had promised her the world even as he let her go home—alone.
She managed to use work to keep her busy for small periods of time, but Ty was proving to be hard to forget. One day the following week she stood studying a patient’s chart in the nearly deserted nurses’ station, lost in her own world.
Until Dr. Watts came up behind her. “You smell good,” he whispered, standing inappropriately clos
e. So close in fact, that the front of his thighs brushed the backs of hers.
“Back up,” she warned. He had her pinned between the counter and his body, but she was far more pissed than worried. She could drop him to the floor in an instant; she just didn’t want the scene that would follow.
“Why do you resist me?” he asked, his fingers stroking her neck.
She slapped his hand away. “I’m going to tell you one more time. Keep your paws off me.”
“Or what?”
“Or you’ll be sorry. Now back off.”
His soft laughter was her only answer; he still stood in her space. Then he brushed his hips to hers and she saw red.
“You feel good—” he started to say, but ended on a whoosh of a breath when she plowed her elbow into his belly and stomped on his foot hard enough to drop him to the floor like a log.
“Well, then.”
With a sigh, she shoved her hair out of her eyes, turned around to face the new male voice, and came face-to-face with Dr. Luke Walker.
Medical chair. The man in charge of just about anything there was to be in charge of, including Dr. Lincoln Watts, writhing on the floor. “Problem, Dr. Mann?” he asked over Linc’s body.
“Not any more.”
He eyed the man on the floor, then looked her over carefully before he said quietly, “You should have come to me sooner, Nicole.”
She let out a slow breath. “I’m fine.”
“Good, then. Please, consider your shift over.”
“But—”
“Not as a punishment.” He stepped back as Dr. Watts struggled to his feet. “Consider it a small payment for your patience with the system. Dr. Watts, come with me, please.”
Linc shot Nicole a look to kill, and she had to turn away to hide her grin. In fact, she grinned all the way to her car, then sang all the way home through South Village traffic, and actually got a great parking spot right out front before she remembered she didn’t really want to go home.
