by Unknown
She glanced downward, surprised to see her fingers entwined in Cliff’s.
When had that happened?
His touch warmed her chilled skin.
Although sparks threatened to ignite, right now she clutched his hand.
“And? What happened?”
“He died.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me, too. Sometimes it feels like he died to spite me.” She shrugged. “So I took time off. Did a lot of thinking.”
“Decided he was wrong?”
She nodded. “I couldn’t be his anesthesiologist, being family, but I could’ve been his anchor. A lifeline of sorts. Might not have made any difference for him, but I’ll always wonder.”
“How long have you been back at the hospital?”
“A few days.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh. Lee’s my first patient since I’ve been back.” And he might well be her last patient, if she couldn’t get a handle on her reactions. An anesthesiologist with a queasy stomach and an aversion to hospitals wouldn’t last long.
“And you got nothing off him, nothing in that nightscape of a dream that could point to who shot him?”
“I wish I had.”
“Me, too.” Cliff tugged on her hand, pulled her closer. “Free will, Reggie. You aren’t responsible for your grandfather’s death. He chose to push you away, to not accept your help.”
“I know.” Lord, she hated that her voice was so low, that it wobbled.
Cliff pressed his lips to her temple, wrapped his arms around her. She shouldn’t lean closer. She knew that, but did anyway. Then lifted her face, met his mouth with her own.
Electric heat filled her. Sparked along her nerve endings, shot through her to moan against his lips.
To hell with the rest of the world.
This was what she wanted, had wanted since she’d seen him walk into that dream. Even before he touched the mist that was her core.
Pissed her off, all this wanting, all this need winding itself tight inside her, threatening to explode and leaving her craving more than his touch.
“I want you, Cliff Braxton. Inside me. Now. Here.”
His breathing quickened and he nipped her bottom lip. “This is crazy, Reggie.”
“You’re going to deny me?”
“I thought you weren’t going to jump me.” His words whispered against her jaw.
Everywhere they touched ignited a new fire. Flames that threatened to consume her from the inside out. “I said I wasn’t talking about jumping you.” She angled her head to flick the tip of her tongue over his lips. “Never said I wouldn’t.”
“You’re killing me. You want to do this here, in the car.”
“I’ve never had sex in a Jag before.” Or any other car, for that matter. But he didn’t need to know that. “Are you turning me down?”
“Hell, no.” But he leaned away from her then threaded his fingers through her hair, holding it back from her face. “I just want to take this slow.” He eased forward and whispered a soft kiss across her lips. “I want to savor this. Savor you.”
She fell into the kiss, the depth of it. To the way his tongue coaxed her mouth open then tangled with hers. His fingers skimmed her shoulders, sent tremors of molten heat through her veins as his hand slid down her back to press her closer. She arched against him as her fingers kneaded his chest through the thin, soft material of his T-shirt.
“I have a blanket in the trunk.” He pressed his mouth to her neck, licked lightly upwards to her earlobe. “We could spread it under the trees. Take our time.”
“Hmmm. No sex in the Jag? Pity.”
“Damn steering wheel doesn’t give me any room to maneuver.”
“Maybe I’m the only one who needs to maneuver.” She skimmed her palm over the bulge in his jeans. “How far back does this seat go?”
“You’re killing me.” But he reached down to press the controls to lower the back of the seat. Then he pressed more controls to inch the steering wheel forward as far as it would go, all the while holding her gaze with his own.
She pulled the top of her scrubs over her head then shook out her hair before tossing the top into the backseat area. A slight breeze that should have been cool was instead invigorating.
His gaze slid over her, lingered on the top of her pink, lacy bra. Her already hard nipples tightened more. She licked her lips and heat flared in his eyes.
He reached for her, ran a palm up her side to cup her breast through the thin material of her bra. “God, I feel like a randy teenager on his first date.”
With a smile, she kicked off her shoes and lifted her hips to pull off the bottom of her scrubs. Those she also tossed to the backseat. Then she turned ninety degrees, pulled her knees under her so she faced him from her seat. “Let’s get this shirt off of you.”
In less than ten seconds his T-shirt was up and over his head then also on the backseat.
“Oh, my.” Her breath caught in her throat. Held. She leaned forward to run her hands over those broad, naked, shoulders. His skin, warm to her touch, was golden, as if he spent many shirtless hours out in the sun.
And it was only March.
He ran the tip of his index finger over the top of her bra, along the lacy edge, sending electric tremors scalding along her nerves. His other hand, on her back, urged her forward. With his eyes locked on hers, he slipped her breast from the cup and took the nipple into his mouth.
Flames reignited, singed in a sudden, direct line straight between her legs. She pressed her thighs together, but his hand slid from her back to slip a finger under the side of the lace thong she wore, to tease her, to rub her right there.
She couldn’t take this. Didn’t want him to stop.
A moan slipped from her as she broke eye contact and her back and neck arched, pushing her breast more firmly into his mouth. He sucked as his tongue stroked her nipple and his fingers slid inside her to match the movements of his mouth.
Lord, she was going to explode if he didn’t stop.
Her hips moved in time with his hands, with his mouth. She slid a hand over her other breast, squeezed. Rocked against his hand.
“Reggie.” His breathing quickened and shallow, he licked her nipple then covered her hand over her other breast. He rocked his own hips. “Help me here.”
Yes.
She slid her hand down his bare chest, over the firm muscles of his abdomen to the top of his jeans. There she flicked open the snap. Thank goodness his pants had a zipper and not all those buttons. He lifted his hips and although the steering wheel was somewhat in the way, they managed to shove his pants and underwear down his legs.
No idea when he’d managed to take off his shoes, but they were gone and now so were the rest of his clothes. Her gaze caught and held on his erection. She glanced at him, then ran her thumb and forefinger down the length of him, then back up. His hand caught hers, wrapped her fingers around his length and squeezed.
“How many condoms do you have?” Her own breathing shallow, she squeezed again then sat back on her heels in her seat.
“Enough.” He leaned forward to feel for his pants and pulled his wallet from the back pocket. From there he fished a packet out and handed it to her. “Care to join me, misty lady?”
“Hmmm.” She tore open the packet and eased the condom over his penis, one slow stroke at a time. “I’d love to.”
“You’d better hurry, woman.”
“What happened to savoring this? Savoring me?”
“That was before you decided to drive me crazy.”
She pressed both hands to his chest then moved to join him on his seat. He had the back reclined far enough she could slip a knee on either side of him. With his erection between her thighs, and her core wet and aching for him, she leaned forward to whisper against his mouth. “Are you ready for me?”
“God, lady, if I were any more ready, neither one of us could handle it.” His hands skimmed the outside of her legs. “Are you ready?�
��
In answer, she slipped a hand between their bodies, eased herself onto the tip of his penis then pressed her hand again to his chest. She inched her hips forward. Then back. Kept her gaze locked to his. To the intensity of those eyes as he searched her face.
Under her hands his muscles bunched. Tightened. His hips rocked forward. She met him, pulled him in deeper. They both pulled back.
“I –” Her breath stalled as his fingers dug slightly into her ass, pulling her closer while he thrust upward and fully entered her. “Yes.”
Her hips rocked, met each of his thrusts, his arms wrapped around her holding her close, his mouth latched onto hers.
They moved together, in tempo as pressure intensified, built to boiling. “Cliff –”
“Hold on to me, Reggie. Don’t let go.” With one hand on her back, pressing her to him, he buried his mouth at the juncture of her neck and shoulder.
The warmth of his tongue undid her.
His thigh muscles tightened then he bucked underneath her, inside her, heading over the side of the mountain with her.
She collapsed on top of him, with him still inside, his arms around her waist and the cool morning air caressing her back. “I don’t want to move.”
He stroked her back. “Then don’t.”
A beep sounded from somewhere near the center console, a beep that sounded too much like an interruption. “Your phone?”
“I’m sure it is.” His sigh tickled the hair at her temple. With one arm still around her, he patted the console, found his phone and lifted it to see the readout. Then he kissed her hard on the mouth. “Lee’s awake. And he’s demanding to see my sorry ass.”
Cliff paced from one end of the hospital’s parking structure to the other, his cell phone pressed to his ear. Night had fallen, Lee was going to be okay and they had a solid lead on the person who’d shot him.
But frustration simmered just underneath Cliff’s skin and he needed to get a handle on it before he told the hospital administer on the other end of his phone where to get off and exactly how to do it.
Dammit to hell.
He jabbed the off button, hanging up on the man mid-sentence.
Reggie had disappeared on him. Gone. No trace. And no one would tell him a damn thing.
He’d find her. Talk to her. Figure out what this was between them.
But he wanted her here now, not sometime, once he got through all the damn bureaucratic bullshit protecting her privacy. He shoved his fingers through his hair.
Wow. He had it bad.
“Hello.” Her soft voice flowed over him.
He angled his head and there she was, her back against the wall next to the elevators, her legs crossed at the ankles and her arms around her middle.
“Hello yourself.” He slipped his cell into the clip at his waist. “Missed you.”
A sad smile flitted across her lips. “You, too.”
“Lee says hello.”
She frowned.
“To the raccoon lady who tethered him.”
Her smile brightened a little. “A raccoon is a safer memory than a real person.”
“Smart. You said you were going to be right up. But then you left. Why?”
“You were going to be busy with Lee and I just couldn’t make myself go inside. Not anymore. The hospital –” She glanced down then back up at him. “I’m done with the hospital, Cliff. I’m not going back.”
“What are you going to do instead?”
She shrugged a shoulder. “I’ll find something.”
Tension ratcheted inside him. “Would you be interested in joining the Dreamwalkers? We’re more unofficial than official. We work in groups of at least two. Having a doctor on our team would be a good thing.”
Her mouth opened. Closed. She blinked several times. “I don’t know what to say.”
In two strides he was at her side with her in his arms. “Yes is always a good answer, misty lady.”
She blinked several times then nodded once. “Yes.”
Thank, God. He lifted her and spun in a circle. Yes.
*****
Note from the author:
I hope you enjoyed Reggie and Cliff’s story! If you’d like to know more about the PSI Sentinel world, please feel free to drop in and say hi on Facebook, join my newsletter or stop by my website.
Website: www.PamelaMoran.com
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*****
PSI Sentinels: Guardians of the Psychic Realm
Extraordinary senses in a world full of danger.
Protectors and hunters, PSI agents lay their abilities, sometimes their lives, on the line.
They defend and shield unwary victims against the twisted underside of a
psychic society bent on exploiting an unsuspecting, mundane world.
If you enjoyed the sexy-hot shorts in Sexy To Go, check back every month for a new box set of erotic quickies. Check out Volume 1 if you missed it.
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Sexy to Go Volume 2 © February 2015
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