“I’m...nervous.” She laughs, and it comes out on a little hiccup of hysteria. She bites her bottom lip. “I’ve, um...I’m not a virgin.”
I never thought so. Mike would have to have been a saint to be engaged to a girl like Elise and not take her to bed.
“I haven’t been a virgin for most of my life. Doesn’t mean I’m not nervous,” I confess.
“You?” She drags her fingertips down my face gently. “Why would you be nervous?”
“The last person you were with was the one you wanted to marry. A really good guy.” I watch her face crumple. “I respect what he meant to you, Elise. I don’t expect you to jump to me and pretend he was never the one you loved.”
She wipes away a few tears and grabs for my hand. She squeezes tight. “Thank you. For saying that.”
I shrug. “Don’t get me wrong. I want to be just as good for you. I want you to want me. And if you’re not sure, I’d rather wait.”
“Caleb,” she whispers. She pulls my shirt up over my head and runs her hands over my chest. “I want you. So much. I trust you.”
“You can,” I promise her, sliding the straps of her dress down. I kiss along her bare shoulders. “Whether you think you need me to or not, I’ll look after you. I’ll be here for you, Elise.”
I feel the heat of her lips on my neck. Her fingers tug at my hair and run down over my shoulders, and she moves slowly, making little sounds in the back of her throat like she’s happy with what she feels and sees. She climbs onto my lap and her dress slides down around her waist. I run my hands over her arms and along her back, and her skin is softer than I imagined.
The weight of her on top of me reminds me of how small she really is. When I wrap my arms around her, she’s lost in them. Her hands, strong and slightly calloused, are petite and delicate.
I know she can take care of herself. But I want to be the one she can lean on when she needs a break. I want to be the one she comes home to.
“Caleb,” she moans, kissing me softly. I stand with her in my arms and she drops her feet to the floor, letting the dress pool in a silky heap. Her hands reach down and undo the button of my jeans, tugging the zipper down so they hang half off my hips.
I lean her back on the bed, lowering myself over her slowly. Our bodies are pressed together with just a few pieces of thin fabric here and there separating us. She reaches a hand up and runs her fingers over my face again.
“You’re very handsome, Caleb Warren.” I see her teeth glint in the moonlight when she smiles.
“And you’re very beautiful, Elise Dupuis.” I tug her hand up to my lips and kiss her palm. I kiss up her wrist, along the inside of her elbow, up her shoulder, and down over her collarbones. I stop just above her heart and press my lips there, where I can feel the quick beats. “Are you still nervous?” I ask.
She shakes her head back and forth and tilts her hips up against mine. “I’m excited.”
“Me too.” I peel the last of her clothes away, kiss every inch of skin I miss. After so many weeks of rubbing up against each other and ripping back, I’d have figured it would be fast and wild.
But it’s slow. I savor the way she tastes, the sounds she makes. Our skin meets now and then, hot and electrified. We know enough of what’s inside each other that there is no awkwardness, no reason to impress each other.
I cradle her in my arms and let my lips move down her neck, to her shoulder, and tug in the nipple that’s hard and ready for me. I circle my tongue over it and listen to her moan. I suck harder and she gasps and knots her fingers in my hair, tugging me tighter to her. Her tits are the perfect size, sweet and full, soft and so damn sensitive, she bucks against me every time I press her closer and explore them more fully.
“Caleb, that feels so good.” She lets her head drop back, and my brain short circuits trying to decide where to touch her next.
I run a hand over her neck, feeling the steady beat of her pulse. I drag my fingers down her body and marvel at how completely gorgeous she is. I knew she’d look amazing out of her clothes, but I underestimated just how much she’d take my breath away.
“Tell me what you want.” I let my thumbs brush over her nipples and my temperature spikes when she pulls her bottom lip in and bites down. “More of that?”
She nods, and I comply until her breathing goes erratic. Then I switch things up and run my hands down her body, not stopping until I hit the spot where she’s so damn wet, I have to kick my basest urges back. I want this to be slow for her.
“Caleb,” she moans, rocking against my hand. “Right there.”
I let my thumb slide over the high peak of her clit and press my forehead to her shoulder when she cries out. “Right there?”
Her hand moves down and grabs my wrist, pressing me against her harder.
“I don’t want to rush this, Elise,” I say through my teeth.
She looks at me, her eyes dark and bright, her smile the kind of dreamy that lets me know I’m doing something right. “How about we go as fast or slow as we need this time? And if it’s not quite right…” She leans her mouth close to my ear, nibbles my lobe, then licks it. “We do it again. And again, if we need to,” she whispers.
I plunge my fingers into her deep, loving the way she bucks and arches under me. “I like the way you think, Nurse Dupuis.”
She grins up at me between another round of staggered moans. “I bet you were quite the lady’s man in high school, Warren.”
I shrug and flick my thumb over her again, watching as she drags in a long, shuddery breath. Her entire face goes pink. “I sure thought so. Problem was, I was so busy strutting around like I was hot shit, I never gave all that much attention to the girls I was with.”
“Ah,” she breathes, scratching her fingernails up and down my back in a quick, light pattern. “So you’ve gotten better with age?”
I lean down and kiss her as I work a rhythm that makes her whimper and pulse against me. “I’ve gotten better since I met you.”
When she reaches for my hand, it’s there. When she stops to listen to my heart beat, her ear pressed hard to my chest, I let her and don’t press for anything more until she’s ready. I love the places where she’s damp, the places where her skin burns, the places where she shivers with surprise when I touch her, first with my hands, then with my lips.
“So you like me?” she fishes, her eyes lowered so I can’t see through the black of her lashes.
I run my free hand over every curve of her, finally hooking my fingers under her chin so I can tilt her face to mine and look her right in the eye. “Like you? I’m outta my head crazy about you.”
I love the slow, sweet way she unravels under me and then around me. I’m tied tight to this beautiful woman, afraid, for the first time in my life, not of what it will be like to wake up and face her in the harsh light of the morning, but what it might be like if she decides that this one night was enough. I’m terrified what it will be like if I don’t have another night in her arms.
So I decide to draw the night out as long as I can and relish every single second.
“I’m crazy about you, too,” she stutters, her eyes closing, her mouth eager on mine. “I want you. Now.”
Her hand reaches down between our bodies, and when her fingers circle my cock, I screw my eyes shut and focus on anything other than how damn good it feels. I’m looking forward to doing this all over again, but I want our first time to be memorable for her.
“Yes, ma’am,” I say, pressing the head of my cock right where she’s already wet and hot, ready for me. “You okay?” I ask, my arms braced on either side of her shoulders, my eyes fixed on her eyes, wide and nervous in the dim light.
She nods, and I press forward, just the slightest bit.
She lets out a gasp and puts her hands on my ass, pressing me into her.
“Damnit,” I grit out, pressing my forehead to hers. I’m surrounded by Elise. I can smell the sweet fragrance of her skin in my nostrils, her moans are echoing i
n my ears, and the taste of her is under my lips and in my mouth. I can feel the tight clamp of her body around me, hot and slick. Ready for more.
Like she’s read my mind, she says, “More.”
I slide into her, and I’ve never felt anything so amazing as Elise Dupuis, bucking and moaning from the pleasure I’m giving her. I pull out and press back in, adjusting the angle in response to the little pleasurable noises that are coming fast and hard out of her mouth.
“You feel so good, baby,” I tell her, running my hands over her body and kissing every square inch my mouth can reach as I pump into her. “So good and so wet.”
She wraps her arms and legs around me, pulling me in deeper. “For you. I’ve wanted…you…thought about…you…and doing this…for so long,” she gasps, opening her legs wider and pressing up on her elbows.
Everything stops for a few long minutes while Elise closes her eyes, bites her bottom lip and arches against me. I’m cruising toward complete loss of control fast, but I hold out because I can sense she’s on the brink of crashing into something beautiful.
And then she does. Her body shudders. She grabs hold of me like she’s gripping on for dear life. She presses hard against my body, screaming hot, wild things into my ear and falling back, limp-limbed, just as I feel her go slicker than before and shake against me.
She unlocks a wild, deep need I’ve never felt with anyone else before, and I press into her, against her, until I let it all go and come so hard, my body shudders for a few long, glorious seconds.
“Holy hell,” she murmurs, smacking soft kisses all over my face and body. “That was…that was…”
“Yeah,” I agree, pulling her close.
We roll onto our sides and look at each other, knowing we crossed a threshold we can’t go back over.
“You look worried,” she whispers, pressing a finger to the line I know forms between my eyebrows when I get to over thinking things.
“I am,” I admit.
She nods. “Me too,” she says, and that sets my heart racing.
“If we moved too fast or if you think we needed more time, I get that and I’m sor—”
Her mouth on mine interrupts my apology. She squirms close, all her soft, warm electrifying my body again. “I’m worried you can’t handle doing that all over again. Because I’m ready for more right now, Caleb.”
I chuckle and crush her close, kissing her hard until she laughs and then moans, deep and sexy against my mouth.
“No worries in that area,” I assure her.
When she gives me that look that’s all sweet dare, I flip her under me and show her just how little she has to worry about.
And when it’s over, when she’s whimpered and moaned my name and pressed her body impossibly close to mine, I spoon her close, pulling the quilt up around her shoulders, wrapping my arm around her body, and burying my nose in her hair.
My sleep is deep and hard, finally free of the nightmares that usually leave me thrashing. Her smell clings to my nose and her taste coats my throat. All I know is that tonight was the first taste, and I already have a powerful addiction I have no plans of giving up.
“I’ve got a present for you, Nurse Dupuis,” I say, leaning over the counter and wishing those scrubs she’s wearing would show me a little more of what I’m already missing like crazy since we spent the night together.
“Oh yeah?” she asks, raising an eyebrow and letting that little dimple show just for me.
Dean leans around me, pulling the stretcher behind him. “Thirty-year-old female, Becky Garber. No prior medical history, no medications. Chief complaint is that she hasn’t had a bowel movement in three days.”
Elise rolls her eyes. “And you called 9-1-1 for that, ma’am?” she asks, somehow managing to keep her voice professional and aggravated at the same time. Damn, I can’t get enough of this girl.
“I’ve tried everything,” Becky whines. “I’ve tried those tablets. I put the powder in my water. I’ve tried the bran flakes. I’ve tried it all.” She throws her hands up and grimaces. “Nothing.”
“Are you in pain, ma’am?” Elise asks, pulling over a clipboard and marking it.
“Of course I’m in pain!” the patient yells defensively, her chin quivering like she’s furious that we’d dare insinuate she isn’t.
“How would you rate it on a scale of one to ten? Ten being the worst pain you’ve ever been in in your life?” Elise asks calmly.
Becky nibbles on her lip and presses her eyebrows low over her eyes. “Maybe a two?”
“A two? Okay,” Elise gets up from behind the desk and shakes her head. “We’ll go to room five, guys. 9-1-1 for a two…” She winks at me, but I laugh outright at her joke.
“Three days! That’s an emergency!” Becky insists with a huff.
“Thanks for the gift,” Elise whispers, nudging me with her shoulder as she passes, that tight little ass twitching with each step.
“Hey, just doing my job, thwarting the process of natural selection,” I say back through my laughter, low enough for her ears only.
“Alright, Ms. Garber, we’re going to get you checked out,” Elise says with a sigh, then narrows her eyes at me and hisses, “Thanks again for this treat, Caleb.”
“I promise, tonight’s treat will more than make up for it,” I murmur
Dean looks between Elise and me with a shit-eating grin on his face. “When you two are done, we have a call,” he says.
“As much as I like to see you, Caleb, think about taking the next one to Oschner’s, will ya? Their nurses prefer the easy whiners and we usually take the blood and guts,” she says, blowing me a kiss as she walks back.
I take a few seconds to appreciate the view, ridiculously proud Elise Dupuis is mine.
Our next run is an unknown medical call on the north side of Rampart and Iberville, an area notorious for being a generally unsafe shithole. I don’t have the balls to walk around out here in the broad daylight, so rolling up here in the middle of the night would never have been my first choice by a long shot.
“Look,” I say to Dean when we pull up on scene and see that there are already three cop cars in the drive. “Stay close by me, okay?”
Dean nods and we grab our gear and start toward the door.
As if on cue, Charlie Dupuis comes strolling out with his trademark arrogant swagger. “Of course it’s you,” he sneers. “I shoulda known.”
“Where’s the patient?” Dean asks, and I love how the kid doesn’t back down an inch. Dean’s all business, focused on the job he has to do. Charlie Dupuis and his badge don’t intimidate him in the least.
“It’s an overdose.” Charlie hooks his thumbs in his belt and glares at me like I’m somehow personally responsible. “Messy scene in there.”
Naturally.
Dean goes pale. While it’s excellent that pushy cops don’t mess with his head, it would be even better if Dead was as cool around blood and guts. Especially since that’s a pretty substantial part of this job.
“We got this,” I say, grabbing his forearm and yanking him to the door. Before we go in, I say, low and quiet, “In and out. We’ll grab the patient and go. Look at me, we’re fine.”
“First day?” Charlie smirks at Dean.
“Where’s the patient?” I ask, ignoring his comment.
“Back bedroom, but he’s DOA, just need you guys here to call it.” Charlie says with a casual shrug. He lights a cigarette and kicks at the ground. Stalling.
“Something else?” I ask, because my gut tells me Charlie Dupuis is good at putting on a show when he needs to. But there’s something about this set up that doesn’t make sense. Something he’s not coming out and saying. And I need to know what the hell it is.
For my safety and Dean’s, I don’t need to walk into some situation Charlie manipulated.
He squints at his cigarette, then takes another long drag. When he looks up, I can see how hard he’s working to keep casual.
“He’s got a couple of fr
iends back there, too. We’re taking one into custody, but the other…” He looks right at me and raises his eyebrows like he doesn’t want any discussion. “We’re not going to transport him, but he needs to be checked out.”
I don’t know Charlie well, and frankly, I don’t really want to. That said it’s clear he wants to say more, but can’t—or won’t. We stare each other down for a few seconds, but I know a stubborn asshole when I see one, so I decide to stop playing his game and go see what’s up for myself. I give the stretcher a tug and lead Dean into the house.
The place is a dimly lit dump. Most of the windows are busted out and have cardboard over them secured with duct tape. The screen door has a gaping hole and, even though the police are on scene, there’s still music thumping through the house and dogs barking. The house reeks of old trash, dogs and their shit, and pot.
I have a hard time pulling the stretcher down the narrow hallway, so I tell Dean to leave it. We enter the back bedroom, and it’s clear Charlie was right. The patient is already dead and probably has been for some time.
“Hey guys, thanks for joining the party. I’m Officer Jacob Lyons, and this here is...” He holds out the patient’s id for dramatic effect. “Jerry Petrie.”
“What’d he take?” I ask, leaning down to check for a pulse I know isn’t there.
“No telling,” the cop says. “Place is covered in paraphernalia. Pill bottles. Pipes. Crack.”
“Classy,” I mutter. I press my stethoscope to his silent chest, and then look at my watch. “He’s gone. I’ll call it, eleven-o-two.”
“Thanks.” The officer nods at me and calls for the coroner into his walkie-talkie. “The second patient is in the next room.”
“What’s his deal? Take something?” I ask, curious what they’re all skirting around.
“I’m sure they’ve all taken something.” Lyons shrugs and glances down at the corpse on the mattress with blank eyes. I bet he’s seen his fill of shithole crime scenes even though he barely looks like he’s out of his twenties. “This asshole should be brought in with the other guy out front, but Dupuis says he needs to be taken to the hospital. There ain’t shit wrong with him that a night in a jail cell won’t help sort out, but Dupuis made the call.”
Golden Hour (Crescent City) Page 16
