“No, Matt, I don’t. Our past together has proved that. We had our chance together and it wasn’t enough for you, and this change of heart isn’t enough for me.” She hadn’t even known herself that was how she felt until the words were out of her mouth. She looked at him and understood that part of him was right, she would always be his, but she couldn’t trust him, and without trust they couldn’t move forward.
“Kate, when was the last time you trusted me?” He knew her too well. He also probably knew the honest response. That night when he’d asked her if she trusted him and then made love to her. She was going to be honest, even if he wasn’t.
“Our last night together at Brown.”
“When was the last time you believed I loved you?”
“The same.”
He didn’t say anything. He reached over and lifted her towards him as though she weighed nothing. He placed her astride him, and she had to place her hands on his shoulders to stop herself from colliding with him. He gently pushed her hair away from her face and pressed his lips to hers. It was them, as they had been.
His lips were soft, the only soft part of a hard man. He didn’t make any move to deepen this kiss, to open her to him. She felt him pull away and opened her eyes with surprise. He had tangled his hand in her hair and from her position on his hips she could feel the hard bulge pressing into the core of her. But he wasn’t moving any further and treacherously she wanted him to.
“Kate…” He quickly touched his lips to hers again before continuing. “Let me prove to you that I love you.” He swept her hair away from her neck and started pressing his lips against its length.
Did he love her? She didn’t know, just as she didn’t know if she could ever trust him enough to believe the words she had waited so long to hear.
“What if you can’t?” she whispered, her sense of reason managing to escape before it was completely lost to his touch.
He stopped and cupped the side of her face, returning his eyes to hers. “I will, Kate. This desire, this passion between us is there for a reason, and it’s not going away. I’m not going away.”
Of all the words he could have said, the promise not to leave was the most important thing for her to hear.
He wanted her. She believed that from his touch and the physical pull between them. He’d said he’d lied, but when? Had it been nine years ago or tonight? Did it matter? The only truth She knew was that she wanted him too and that feeling was not going away. Risks versus benefit, she thought to herself. She was pretty sure he couldn’t break her the way she had been broken before, but maybe being with him again would help heal the wounds that had been left between them. Or maybe it would simply cure her burning need to experience again what had been physically and emotionally so nearly perfect that night all those years ago.
She moved her hands from his shoulders and ran her fingers through his hair as she returned her lips to his. She tugged gently at his lower lip, a physical act of agreement, and he responded. The pressure from his lips increased and she felt her lips part as his tongue swept their thin line. She opened her mouth to him and savored the feeling of him exploring and tasting her, responding with equal fervor. He broke from her mouth and moved along her neck as his hands swept under her shirt along her bare back.
Moving forward, his thumbs brushed the sides of her breasts, and her need increased a hundred times over. She reached down to the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head and off her overheated body. Then she did the same to Matt, wanting to feel their bare skin touching. He kissed her again as their bodies pressed and she instinctively ground her throbbing core against him.
She sighed with relief when she felt the clasp of her bra unhook and the weight of her now heavy breasts drop. She pulled away slightly and Matt threaded the black lace bra off her body. She experienced satisfaction, watching and feeling him cup her breasts in his hands. His thumbs traced the outline of her nipples before rolling them gently between his fingers. It was torture, sweet, sweet torture. She moaned the word “More” and watched Matt smile a very familiar smile as he took the nipple into his mouth. His other hand never left the other breast and it was hard to cope with all the different sensations of pleasure running through her body. She needed something to focus on or she thought she might actually faint from the intensity of his touch.
She ran her hands down the hard, flat plane of his abdomen to the waistband of his jeans. She tugged open the belt, button and zipper, releasing him into her hand. He was so hard that he easily slipped through the fly opening in his underwear, allowing her to touch and caress his naked length. Her hand stroked his entire length, fantasizing about the moment when all of him would be inside her. Her thumb circled his tip, slick already with desire. She felt his hold on her breast and the intensity with which he was sucking her nipple increase as he groaned against her.
“Kate,” he moaned, as he released her breasts so that he could use his hands to gently remove hers from him. Gray eyes met blue as they stared at each other with looks of agreement about where this was headed.
She pulled herself up off his lap and led him down the hall towards her bedroom. She didn’t turn on a light but the uncovered window allowed in the city’s night-light glow, which reflected off their bodies. She finished what she had started and while standing in front of Matt, facing him, she removed the rest of her clothing. He stepped towards her and she removed his as well, until they were both naked.
His hands returned to her face and hair and he pressed his lips against hers again, like the calm before the storm. Kate gasped as he lifted her from her feet and deposited her on the bed. She felt a shiver course through her body and couldn’t tell if it was from the night air against her naked skin or from anticipation.
She didn’t stay cold for long. She watched Matt study her before he joined her, covering her body with his own. She savored the feel of the weight and the heat of him against her. She opened her hips as each leg wrapped around him until he was positioned perfectly, as much her doing as his.
He didn’t enter her. He stayed motionless below the waist, even though she was arching and pushing against him. He started kissing her again, her lips, her neck, her breasts and nipples. His body weight was held on one arm and as Kate writhed beneath him she unconsciously absorbed the beautiful architecture of the muscles in that arm and shoulder. His free hand caressed down her side towards the inside of her thigh. She had never wanted something so badly and she grabbed his hips in an attempt to pull him forward, but again he resisted.
She felt his lips and the stubble of his cheek return to her neck when he again moaned against her. “Kate, I’m trying really hard to take things slow this time and make love to you the way I should have, but you’re making it really, really hard.”
“Please, Matt,” she begged, still struggling towards his final possession. She could see the change in him. His resolution faded and the small upward turn of a smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.
He stroked her leg one last time from her bottom to the knee that was crooked around his back. His hands went to either side of her head as he pressed forward and she felt the tip of him at her entrance. The slight touch after the agony of waiting caused her to catch her breath and close her eyes with pleasure.
“Kate, open your eyes and look at me.”
She did so and the moment they made contact he pushed into her so deeply that she didn’t know where he ended and she began. He moved slowly at first, his eyes never leaving hers as he stroked within her. There was no pain this time, just pleasure and a sense of completeness that she didn’t want to examine. With every touch of him she couldn’t imagine being able to stand the exquisiteness of another touch, and then he pushed in again. She could feel her body working with his as her muscles tightened against him, and he responded by moving more deeply inside. She felt panicky as the surges of pleasure started to build and she couldn’t stop them, couldn’t stop the release that was coming so quickly. She teetered on the e
dge, trying to hold on, trying to prolong the intimacy and connection between them.
“Kate, trust me, let go.” His words, accompanied by almost complete withdrawal and a deep thrust, sealed her fate as she finally broke eye contact, closing her eyes and arching her back as she climaxed and tears of release streamed down her face. Her first aftershock was almost as powerful as her orgasm and was joined by a growl from Matt as he buried his head against her and cried out as she felt him spill into her.
She struggled to catch her breath, but equally calmly savored the weight of him collapsed against her. His lips brushed against her cheek, tasting the saltiness of her tears. She wasn’t sure how long they remained that way, contented and too spent to move.
The shrill of her pager startled them both. Matt pulled out and away from her and she felt instantly bereft. The second beep focused her attention on the little black box that was still clipped to her jeans, lying discarded on the bedroom floor. She moved off the bed and unclipped the device, pushing the solitary button and registering the number of the emergency department.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured. She found the portable phone and dialed the number, her back turned towards Matt.
“It’s Dr. Spence. I was paged to this number.”
“It’s Ryan Callum.” Dr. Callum was one of the senior emergency attending physicians, and if her alarm hadn’t been raised before, it was now.
“Kate, I’m calling about Chloe Darcy. During her shift tonight she was found unconscious in the doctors’ change room.” Any self-conscious feeling she had about standing naked answering a page faded in place of fear as her heart started pounding in her chest and the blood seemed to drain from her body.
“Oh, my God.” She slumped down onto the edge of the bed. “Where is Chloe now?” It was hard to contain her panic. This wasn’t a patient, this was her best friend.
“She’s in Section A of the emergency department. Kate, I’m calling because you are listed as her emergency contact on her health forms.”
“I’ll be right there.” Section A was not good. If Chloe had just fainted from exhaustion or low blood sugar she would be in a lower acuity part of the department. Section A was reserved for critical patients requiring continuous monitoring and one-on-one care.
She stood, turned and collided with Matt, her naked body flattening against him. He had pulled on his underwear and jeans, but his shirt was still in the living room. His arms reached around to steady her and then quickly released her. He handed her a robe, which she batted away, and then he left the bedroom as she searched for new clothing. In less than thirty seconds she was ready and in the living room, where Matt stood holding the front door of the apartment open.
“I’m driving you.” It was not a request, it was a statement, and she found herself grateful for his decisiveness as she was feeling more panicky than she could ever remember feeling.
She was gripped with fear as Matt sped towards the hospital. She couldn’t talk, her thoughts stuck on repeat in her head. Chloe was her best friend, her rock. Chloe had gotten her through Matt’s abandonment. Chloe had supported her through the breakup with Tate. But where had she herself been when Chloe had needed her? She had been self-destructing with Matt. Guilt coursed through her, thinking of the pleasure she had been experiencing while Chloe had been lying unconscious, waiting to be found.
Her friend had not been herself the other day. Kate had noticed that she had looked tired and pale, but Chloe had reassured her that it was just a virus. Kate had been so wrapped up in her own problems she hadn’t taken the time Chloe had needed, like a good friend, like a good doctor, should have. Her mind raced as she established the differential diagnosis for viral illness and syncope. For a healthy woman to be in a critical condition it either had to involve her cardiac, respiratory or neurological systems, or a combination of them. If it was her heart, that would mean myocarditis and inflammation of the heart, leading to abnormal rhythms or, worse, a cardiomyopathy or valve damage, leading to permanent disability. If it was respiratory, then it would be an aggressive coronavirus like the SARS outbreak a few years back that had led to the deaths of many health care workers. If it was neurological, then it would be meningitis, which could lead to permanent neurological impairment.
“Stop.” Matt’s voice broke through her thoughts. She turned and looked at him, though his eyes didn’t leave the road. “She’s going to be okay.”
“You can’t know that,” Kate replied in a scared whisper. She wanted in her heart to believe what Matt was saying, but rationally she knew that there was no way to predict sometimes what would happen. She had been in medicine long enough to understand that bad things happened to good people for no reason at all, and Chloe was the best person she knew.
Before they could talk more, Matt pulled into the emergency room loading dock. She took one glance at him, and heard him tell her to go as She jumped out of the car. She raced through the automatic doors and through the emergency department to Section A. She reached the large, wall-mounted computer screen that tracked patients, searching for Chloe’s identifier. She saw 30F listed under room four, thirty-year-old female—that would be Chloe. She controlled the desire to keeping running, and walked quickly to room four.
She wasn’t prepared for the sight that greeted her. The room was empty but not cleaned. Her eyes darted around as her mind pieced together the information her eyes were processing. The stretcher was gone, so that meant that Chloe was somewhere in the hospital, having been transported on said stretcher. The floor was smeared with blood, not a lot of blood but enough. The rapid transfuser was in the room, a sign that Chloe had required a blood transfusion. In the sink she saw several empty IV bags, more evidence of vascular collapse. The scene before her was compatible with only two scenarios. One was a severe viral infection, leading to hemolytic anemia and septic shock. The other was hypovolemic shock secondary to acute blood loss. Either way, Chloe was very, very sick.
She left the room and her eyes searched the unit for Ryan Callum, but she couldn’t see him. When she didn’t immediately see anyone who would be useful in helping her locate Chloe, she left the department with a list of three possible locations in mind. Radiology, Intensive Care Unit, or the operating room. Chloe had to be in one of those locations.
She went to the main floor radiology unit first. The one benefit of doing nothing but work for the past four and a half years was that everyone in the hospital recognized her, even out of scrubs, and was quick to provide her with the information she wanted. Chloe wasn’t in Radiology, neither was she in the intensive care unit. That left the operating room and Kate’s fear increased. She went to the OR change room, put on scrubs and covered her hair to allow herself access to all areas.
It was after hours, which meant that only a few of the operating theatres were still running. She walked the hall, looking for activity and lights. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Tate staring through the small rectangular window of an operating-room door.
He didn’t notice her. He just stared, transfixed, through the window.
“Tate,” she said quietly, as she placed a hand on his shoulder.
He didn’t turn to look at her, keeping his eyes glued on the window. “I think she’s stabilizing. They kicked me out of the room, so I can’t tell for sure. But they have stopped calling for blood and I can see the anesthesia monitors and her heart rate has come down to the one-twenties and her blood pressure is back up.”
“What happened?” Kate asked, desperately wanting to see for herself.
“I don’t know, they won’t tell me anything. The usual patient confidentiality, etc. I only got here about fifteen minutes ago. I was checking the operating-room board to see how many cases were lined up for tonight at the front desk when the porter from the blood bank came to drop off blood. I overheard him verifying Chloe’s name and blood-bank number with the unit clerk.”
“Who is in with her?”
“Gynecology,” he said, his resentment
coming through clearly.
“Oh.” Kate felt some understanding drift in. The department of obstetrics and gynecology was a separate surgical department from the department of general surgery. While both groups worked in the same operating rooms, the two disciplines kept to themselves with little understanding of the ins and outs of each other’s fields.
“Is it a hemorrhagic ovarian cyst?” Kate asked, still needing answers.
“I don’t know, Kate. Like I said, they won’t tell me anything.” She stopped asking questions.
It was right that they were guarding Chloe’s privacy, but at the same time it was intensely aggravating. Being in the health care field, she had become used to having access to people’s confidential information. Only this time she and Tate were not responsible for Chloe’s care, so they had no need to have access to that information other than for their personal interest, which did not entitle them to it.
She and Tate stood there for another twenty minutes before Kate had had enough. Let them throw her out, let them reprimand her even for her inappropriate behavior. She was already being sued. This, at least, would be worth the consequences.
Without words, she gently pushed Tate to the side and went through the operating-room door. She wasn’t ready for what she saw, despite it being an everyday scene. It felt completely different when the person on the operating table was someone you loved. Chloe was lying there, surrounded by the surgical team. There were two anesthetists at the head of the table, two scrub nurses, and what looked like three people from the gynecology team. She looked at the faces and recognized Erin Madden, the chief gynecology resident, whom she had met on several occasions over their years in training.
“Hi, Kate.” Erin acknowledged her presence, though her eyes didn’t deviate from Chloe’s abdomen, which was open on the operating room table.
Part of Kate wanted to get closer, but she wasn’t sure she was ready emotionally to see Chloe so exposed. She also didn’t want to push her luck and risk getting thrown out, as Tate had.
Resisting Her Ex's Touch Page 12
