by Bella Andre
Love Me (Take Me sequel)
Copyright 2010 Bella Andre
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Chapter One
“Car accident. Ten-year-old girl. Possible ruptured spleen.”
Luke Carson dropped the x-ray he was groggily reviewing to run beside the frightened girl who was rapidly losing blood. Her cheeks were stained with tear tracks and her long blond hair blew off the side of the gurney as the nurses wheeled her into surgery. She looked up at Luke with big, barely conscious blue eyes.
“I know you don’t feel so good right now, honey, but in a few seconds everything will be better. I’m going to take care of you.”
“Promise?” she whispered.
“I promise.” He would do everything in his power not to let her, or her family, down.
He held out his hands for surgical gloves just as Robert, another trauma surgeon who’d come on an hour earlier, popped his head in the door.
“You’ve been on for twenty-four, Luke. You want me to take this one for you?”
“Nope. I’ve got it.”
Saving lives was not just a job for Luke. Being a trauma surgeon was what he’d been born to do. He was the best man for the job. It wasn’t arrogance.
It was the truth.
Luke was ten years old when he decided to become a doctor. Even though the rest of his friends – and his brother, Travis - had been out partying in their twenties, he didn't regret a single one of the long hours he'd spent in class or poring over thick textbooks in the library. His number one priority had always been to save lives. Because he knew what happened to families when somebody died.
They fell apart.
Every parent he brought back from the brink meant there was one more kid who had a dad to play ball with and a mom to kiss him goodnight. And every child he took care of meant there was one less devastated parent trying to pick up the pieces of their life.
Luke's job was everything to him. Especially on nights like this when a little girl's life was at stake.
He had caught a very brief flash of her parent's faces as they ran into the ER behind the paramedics. They'd been scared, more frightened than they'd ever been before. If she died, the hole in their hearts would never be healed
Luke couldn't let that happen. But when he moved to press the scalpel down onto the girl’s skin, he suddenly realized he couldn't control his hands.
Shit.
He pulled his hands away and took a deep breath. Surgery required complete concentration. His strength of will had never failed him before. But even with his hands still at his sides, he could feel the shaking grow worse, damn it.
He looked up and was surprised to see Robert standing unobtrusively against the wall, looking concerned, but waiting for Luke’s cue. When had his colleague come into the OR? Had it been that obvious to him that Luke wasn't up to the job tonight?
Fuck, no. He could do it. He was going to stand by his promise to save the little girl's life.
A second later, everything began to blur, and he felt Robert's hand on his arm, steadying him.
“I'm fresh, Luke. Let me take this.”
Luke had to fight like hell not to shake off Robert's hand.
Damn it. He'd worked plenty of twenty-four-hour shifts. He should be able to pull this off.
Only, this was about a hell of a lot more than “pulling it off.” This was life and death for an innocent ten-year-old girl. Every second counted in the ER. He'd already wasted too many.
If the girl died it would be his fault. He'd have to face her parents and tell them that his ego had killed her. And he'd never forgive himself.
“Robert,” his said in a low voice, “go ahead and take over.”
His friend quickly stepped in, taking not only the instruments from Luke, but his control over the situation as well.
For the first time in years, Luke didn’t know what to do. The only thing that was clear was that he was no longer needed. Robert and the nursing staff had everything well under control.
They'd save the girl. They had to.
All he knew for sure was that if he'd stayed, if he hadn't stepped away and finally handed over the reins, his hands might have slipped at a crucial moment.
He could have killed her.
On leaden feet he left the OR, walked down the hallway, and entered the locker room. He ripped off his scrubs and threw them toward the overflowing hamper in the cluttered locker room at San Francisco General Hospital. No surprise, the bundle of blood-laced green fabric missed the basket. By a mile.
He should have gone home twelve hours ago. But he hadn’t. Because he had nothing—no one—to go home to.
He dragged his hands over his face, through too-long dark hair that was just beginning to curl at the base of his neck. Standing in front of the scratched and dirty mirror in the corner of the locker room, his bloodshot eyes stared back at him accusingly.
He'd been on the verge of overstepping his bounds as a doctor.
Because he'd thought he could play God instead.
Luke wanted to tell himself that what had happened tonight was a fluke, a one-time deal. That he was in control of his life.
In the past few years he’d pushed himself harder. Worked longer hours. Saved more lives. Sewed up more chests. Pulled out more bullets.
But for some reason, they were empty victories. And, lately, he'd been thinking more and more about why that was, if it had something to do with coming home to an empty house. No wife. No kids.
So far, however, he hadn't met anyone he could imagine wanting around forever.
His last girlfriend was a business analyst who worked nearly as many hours as he did. She'd been attractive, but cold, and even though she'd always warmed up in bed, he hadn't been able to shake the feeling that they just weren't a good fit. Even though she should have been perfect for him. Before Laura, there'd been Christine. Another bright, attractive, mature woman. A prominent economist, she also wrote regularly for the Chronicle. But she hadn't cared for his hours and when she'd given him an ultimatum - her or his job - the choice had been easy. Goodbye Christine.
The truth was, when he looked back, all of his ex-girlfriends blurred together. Attractive. Driven. Mature. Sensible.
Boring.
He stripped off his boxers and white T-shirt and stepped beneath the hot spray in the shower stall, barely feeling the water pelt him across the chest as he quickly shampooed and soaped up. He felt broken, used up. Miles beyond exhausted.
He shut the water off and shook like a dog in the small laminate cubicle. He wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped out of the shower.
Elizabeth, a new resident, said, “Hello, Luke,” to let him know he was no longer alone in the room. She was exactly the kind of woman he'd usually ask out. A cool, reserved blonde, she turned away quickly so that he could have his privacy getting dressed.
For a moment, Luke thought about it. He wasn't seeing anyone right now, and it had been too long since he'd gotten release outside of his hand in the shower.
But he discarded the idea as quickly as it came. Judging by the way his cock was just laying there utterly limp beneath the towel, trying to act like he was into her would be a hell of a lot more work than it was worth.
Not to mention the fact that he didn’t do one-night stands. Never had. He’d left that territory to Travis, who’d settled down with
Luke’s best friend, Lily, five years ago. They’d married in a surprise ceremony in Tuscany and had two great kids.
Luke was happy for them—of course he was—and yet, their perfect relationship only seemed to highlight everything he was missing. Thinking of his brother and sister-in-law and their happiness only made the thought of going home with a virtual stranger more distasteful.
“Elizabeth,” he said with a curt nod, reaching for the clean jeans and shirt in his locker and quickly dressing. Taking the stairs down to the underground parking garage, he got in behind the wheel of his Porsche and turned the key in the ignition. Pulling out onto the empty, dark street he was about to turn right, up the hill to his house in Pacific Heights. But he couldn't face his big empty house tonight. And he couldn't barge in on Lily and Travis. Not at 1:30 a.m. when the whole family was already asleep.
On a night like this, where everything he thought to be true, to be real, had spiraled out of control, there was only one thing left that might help him hold on to the remains of his sanity: the one woman he couldn't have.
And the only one he'd ever wanted.
Instead of going right, he turned left, heading for South of Market.
Heading straight to Janica.
Chapter Two
“Hey baby, Nick and I are seriously into this.”
Janica Ellis looked up from uncapping a couple of beers for her two guests and forced a smile at Jarod.
A half hour ago she'd gone by one of her regular haunts and picked up not just one guy, but two. She was just so fucking bored.
Of course she was thrilled with the success of her clothing line, J Style. She loved spending time with her sister, Lily, and Lily's kids. And between her girlfriends and the guys she dated, Janica almost never sat home alone in front of the TV on a Saturday night.
Still, even great sex with a hot guy got old after a while. Particularly if it was sex with the wrong hot guy.
The problem was, so far they'd all been the wrong guy. She'd been dating since she was fourteen but she'd never been in love with any of her boyfriends. Not even close.
Maybe, she'd started to think, some people were hardwired to fall in love – like Lily who had fallen head-over-heels in love with Travis as kids - and some people weren't.
In any case, even if Janica was missing the love gene, she still needed to figure out what to do about tonight.
Lately she'd read a bunch of books with ménages. They seemed pretty kinky. Exciting. And for a second, when she'd let the guys know what she was up for, and they'd accepted, it had been a rush. But before they'd even made it out of the bar, the thrill had fizzled away.
Right now she didn't feel any more excited about what she was about to do with two hunks than she had about any of her previous lovers for the past year.
Sure, they'd probably make her come in some sort of really inventive three-way position. But so what? She could come just fine on her own.
Good thinking, Janica, she said to herself in a sarcastic voice. How in hell are you planning to get them to leave now?
“Hey, I know I suggested this three-way, but guess what? I was just kidding.”
Not only were the odds of them laughing damn low, any woman with half a brain could easily guess they weren't going to be too gung ho about leaving either.
Lately, she'd been grading her impulsive actions more and more, having these annoyed, silent conversations. Thankfully, she still felt great about her business, but on every other front—whether she was a good enough sister, a good enough friend, a good enough person, period—she wasn't at all sure.
For the first twenty-nine years of her life, she hadn't given a second thought to any of those things. She'd simply decided what she wanted and gone after it.
She hadn't wasted time on worry or regret, on trying to "act her age." She'd focused on squeezing every last ounce of joy out of life, on racking up exhilarating life experiences.
But something had changed this past year, as she'd rounded the corner toward thirty. No, not something.
Her.
She had changed. Out of the blue, she suddenly found herself lying in bed thinking about all the things she'd never wanted before. Real love. Someone to come home to at night. Someone to laugh with. Someone to plan with. Someone to share new things with.
Luke.
Damn it. Why couldn't she control her thoughts about him?
Twenty-five years ago it had started as a secret crush, a little girl spying on a big boy with a heart-melting smile. And it had turned into an obsession. A stupid, pathetic obsession that only got worse with every family event she went to.
Five years after Lily had married Luke's twin brother, Travis, Janica was still a little bit shocked by it all. She loved Lily more than anyone else on the planet and, yet, who would have thought that her shy, insecure older sister would have found true love first? Janica had always been the popular one, with all the friends, all the style, and all the confidence. But now Lily had a gorgeous husband who adored her while Janica was so cynical about men and ever falling in love that she'd actually invited two of them into her bed.
Beyond pissed at herself, she walked out from the kitchen with the beers. “Here.”
Instead of taking the bottles, the guys shot each other a look and started pulling their shirts out from their pants. Okay, so having a threesome probably wasn't going to suck, but no matter how she tried to spin it in her head, “not sucking” just wasn't a good enough reason for doing it.
Maybe if she were the heroine in a romance novel it would be okay. But this wasn't fantasy. This was real life.
Her life.
“You know what boys,” she began, “I don't think—”
She was cut off by the doorbell.
What the hell? Who could possibly be coming to see her at 1:30 in the morning?
Oh God, she immediately thought, something has happened to Lily or the kids.
Panicked, she flew to the door and yanked it open.
It took her brain longer than it should have to register the fact that Luke Carson was standing in front of her, long enough for him to take her completely unaware with his hands on her shoulders.
And his mouth hard and hot on hers.
In an instant, everything fell away but his kiss. It was hungry, like a trapped lion who'd broken through his chains and could finally unleash the urge to devour his prey whole.
He wasn't asking, he was taking.
Demanding.
A hundred times—no, at least a thousand times—she'd dreamed of kissing Luke, had stared at his mouth, at his lips, and wondered how they'd feel pressed up against her skin. And yet, even her best fantasies, even the ones that had her crying out his name in bed with one of her battery-operated toys, didn't begin to come close to this beautiful reality.
My God, he was delicious. A spicy, darkly sensual aphrodisiac. Powerful and satisfying.
He forced his tongue into her mouth, ruthless as he sucked her breath into his body. She moaned with pleasure that came from way deep down in her core and wrapped her hands around his rock-hard butt to pull him closer.
His hands were rough, unyielding as they curved hard into the small of her back, then tightly gripped the curve of her ass. All space, all air between them was completely obliterated in his full-on assault on her mouth, her body.
“What the hell?”
“Who the fuck is he?”
Two male voices spoke almost in unison.
Oh crap. She'd completely forgotten about her would-be fuck buddies.
Luke yanked his mouth away from hers to look up and over her shoulder. It was, Janica thought, like watching a really messy accident happen in slow motion. You almost felt like you could step in and stop it from happening if you were quick enough. Even though the truth was she didn't have a chance in hell of halting the crash.
Luke growled a succinct, “Get out,” at the two men.
“Wait a minute,” Nick said, stepping forward. “We were here first.”
>
Luke all but puffed out his chest and bared his teeth. “I said get the fuck out.”
When he acted like this she was almost scared of him. She'd never seen Luke look so menacing. Or so possessive. A delicious little shiver ran through her.
All this time she'd thought she had him completely figured out. She'd been absolutely certain he was a type A, arrogant surgeon, destined for a blond trophy wife to decorate his suburban home and carpool his J. Crew clad kids to soccer games. She'd pegged him as Mr. Perfect, someone who had never uttered a curse word in his life. Amazingly, the word “fuck” sounded just right on his tongue.
If she was wrong about that, then what else was she wrong about?
Janica opened her mouth to tell the boys she was going to send them home anyway and Luke's hands tightened on her shoulders.
“Don't you say a damn word.”
Again, desire rode through her at his command. She'd tried the whole master-submissive thing once—with her as the dominatrix, of course, in a leather corset and “fuck me” boots—but hurting someone to get them off hadn't been her cup of tea.
Luke's tough-guy act, on the other hand, was exactly her brand of Earl Grey.
Unfortunately, the boys she'd met at the bar weren't too quick on the uptake.
“Fuck you, man,” Jarod said. “We were here first. We're staying.”
Again, Janica tried to say something, but Luke pulled her so hard against him she actually lost her breath.
“She just uninvited you, asshole. Both of you.”
The two guys advanced on Luke and that was when she decided enough was enough. No way was she going to waste precious lip-lock time with Luke on what was sure to be a bloody fight with these bozos.
Another time she'd let three guys fight over her. Right now there was only one thing she wanted: to be alone, preferably naked, with the man of her dreams.
“I'm really sorry, guys, but I completely forgot about this appointment I had with Luke.”
Their mouths fell open in a particularly unattractive way. How had she ever found their beefy-arms and crew-cuts attractive?
