by Gina Kincade
Damn it, if he wasn’t half in love with her already. When he’d thought back to the other night when he’d been partially out of his mind with worry because he hadn’t heard from her after texting her for hours then when she’d finally responded and said she’d been in the ER… He’d had his keys in hand and had taken the stairs two at a time to get to his truck and be with her. The worst possible images had wrought his mind and spun out of frenzied control. Then he’d seen her message about being at work and he’d never been so fucking relieved in his life. Of course, he’d felt like a dumb asshole for going off the deep end, but Kate didn’t need to know about that. All he knew was that he’d had an overwhelming sense to protect her and keep her from harm.
He stroked her hand, playing with her fingers. Oddly strong, yet delicate fingers that he remembered roaming his body freely. His cock instantly sprang to attention. This was their third date and he’d yet to have the opportunity to be inside her again. Unfortunately, because of their opposite day/night work schedules, all he’d had to keep his bed warm was the photo she’d sent him in that lacy excuse for a bra. Lavender was now his new favorite color.
“Grant?” Kate asked, worry etching her features and filling her voice.
“No. I am okay. Really,” he said and smiled. Adjusting himself discreetly to relieve some of the pressure building in his trousers, he took a sip of his whisky. “Why don’t you tell me how your shift was last night?”
As Kate regaled him with tales of the ER, he watched her, memorizing every detail. The candor in her voice, how her expressions changed from serious to amused to mock horror in a matter of seconds as she described the different patients coming and going and their interactions with the medical staff. How her dark brown eyes shone with humor, the curve of her jaw, the small freckle on the top of her left breast close to where her cleavage came together. He knew from the picture she’d sent that it would be another demi bra pushing that particular freckle into his line of sight from under her dark green sequined baby doll blouse. And all he could think about was how he was going to lick his way down, starting with special attention on that one, frustrating lonely freckle.
Ya, he was so screwed.
“Wait,” he said catching a phrase that struck absolute horror within him. “What?”
“A bunch of my friends and I are going base-jumping from the Burro Creek Bridge off of Highway 93 next month. Want to come with us?”
“No fucking way,” he said a bit too loudly then lowered his voice. “Kate. You can’t be serious. That’s too God damn dangerous.”
A frown marred her perfect features. She set her wine glass down and leaned forward. “Of course I’m serious. Base-jumping is a very serious sport. I can assure you that all safety precautions are taken. The people I’m going with are professionals, Grant. Not amateurs. And I need not remind you that I don’t need your permission to go. Just because we slept together one time, doesn’t mean you control me.” Her tone was angry, her dark brown eyes hard. “My parents tried to control me for years, attempting to mold me into what they wanted me to be. I don’t do controlling. Not for you, not for anyone.”
Grant tried to contain the panic rising within his chest. The thought of her jumping off a bridge a few hundred feet off the ground tethered to nothing but a fucking string terrified him, but he had to get a grip on his rising horror. He didn’t want to risk losing her over his irrational fears.
He took a long, slow swallow of his whiskey and allowed the amber liquid to burn his throat and soothe his frayed nerves. There had to be a way to convince her not to go, but he decided now wasn’t the time to fight that particular battle. “You’re right, of course. I’m sorry. I’m just a bit freaked out by what could happen. And I care about you too much to lose you.”
Kate’s features softened. “Ah, Grant. You can’t obsess over the negative aspects of what might never happen. You should come,” she encouraged with a smile. “It might help you get over some of your fears about your parent’s death.”
“No way in hell would you ever catch me jumping off anything,” he said emphatically.
Kate laughed. “Well, it isn’t for everyone,” she agreed.
He placed his hand on her knee just under the hem of her short black skirt. “There are other things I’d like to do with you,” he said, voice low and husky. He traced small circles on her inner thigh. “To you.”
She sucked in a sharp breath and her knees opened a bit wider, allowing him greater access. Her eyes darkened in challenge. “Oh?”
“We can stay for dessert, or.” His hand slid higher, fingering the edge of lace that barred him from what he really wanted to taste.
Their waiter walked by and Kate grabbed his arm, halting him. “Check, please.”
“Sure thing, miss,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”
Grant laughed. He waited until their server was out of earshot. “Eager? Good, because I’m tired to jerking off to that photo you sent me the other night.”
Kate’s eyes widened, then a slow, pleased smile spread her pouty mouth. “Well, as long as we are confessing our dirty little secrets,” she said palming his stiff bulge in his pants. “My vibrator has been working overtime, and it’s a very pale substitute,” she said, giving his crotch a light, erotic squeeze.
The car ride home was fraught with sexual tension pooling right to his groin. His teeth clenched and gut tight, it was all he could do to not lose his shit while Kate’s fingernails grazed his inner thigh to his cock and back again until he was so hard he thought his zipper would bust through the seams. It didn’t matter that there was a layer of clothing between her touch and the bulge that strained for her heated impatient caresses.
But Grant needed more. He needed to know how he affected her. Was she as hot for him as he was for her? His glance latched on the show of skin between her knees and the hem of her skirt that had ridden up when he’d helped her into his lifted pickup truck. Fingers itching to stroke her, but unable to safely reach between her legs over the console without causing them to crash on the 202 Loop headed back to their condos, he gripped the steering wheel tighter.
“Hike up your skirt, baby, and touch yourself,” he ordered, his control in tatters, but he wanted to see—no, he amended, needed to see.
“Grant?” she asked.
“Now,” he demanded. “I want to know if that tight little pussy of yours is wet and ready for me. Show me, Kate, how much you need me too.”
A wicked smile curved those full plump lips as she leaned back in the seat, dragged her skirt around her hips, pulled her panties down around her ankles, and dipped her fingers inside her pussy. A soft moan escaped her parted mouth as she stroked herself.
“Tell me what you need,” he growled, breathing ragged. He positioned the rearview mirror in order to see her slow, sure strokes, wishing his cock was between those creamy thighs right this minute.
With her free hand she freed his erection. Gripping his shaft, she pumped root to tip while dipping one finger inside her slick heat, thrusting inside herself in unison with her hand on his cock. “This, she said on a breathy groan.” Her breath hitched. “I need this soooo bad it hurts. Drive faster,” she pleaded.
“Baby, I’m already ahead of you,” he said with a strained chuckle. “I get pulled over, you’re going to have a lot of explaining to do.”
Kate slipped two fingers inside and her thumb circled her clit, moving with measured strokes. Her wanton exploration of her own pussy turned Grant on like no one before this woman came into his life. In the tilted rearview mirror, she watched him watching her. There was no shame, no shyness, just a wicked gleam as if she knew exactly how she affected him. All too soon, her strokes became more frenzied. Her hips bucked off the seat all the while she continued to squeeze and tug on his hard length.
“Christ, Kate,” he said, voice thick with need. “You’re going to make me cream my slacks.”
Just then, he felt her body stiffen as she came, crying out his name in th
e process. Spent, her shoulders slumped back on the leather seat, thighs still spread wide and her pussy glistening with her sweet juices.
“What do you need?” she asked between gasps.
Grant shook his head, unable to speak. He remembered how she’d tasted. Fuck, the memory of sampling all she had to offer had popped into his head at the most inopportune times all fucking week. It had taken every inch of will power to concentrate on his clients when they’d been telling him about their triumphs and setbacks during their hour-long sessions. All he wanted to do was bury his head between her thighs and lick her cream until she screamed his name over and over. To him there was no better reward.
As if reading his mind, Kate dipped her finger between her wet folds and placed it to his lips. Greedily, he lapped it up, nipping her finger in the process.
“Now let’s see what we can do to make you a bit more comfortable,” she said.
With one hand she fisted his length, their skin gliding over each other. His cock wept with sweet relief at her touch, knowing that soon there’d be a respite from its pained state of arousal. Her fingers moved quickly, instinctively testing, watching him intently to see what he liked.
And oh, man. I like very, very much.
A delicious pressure built and his balls tightened. “Jesus, Kate.” He growled. “I’m so fucking close. Don’t stop.”
Bending closer, she lapped at the head of his penis with her tongue. “Kate,” he warned, ready to blow. His grip tightened on the steering wheel whitening his knuckles. In answer, she took his entire cock deep into her mouth and sucked hard. “Ah, fuck yes!” He pistoned up fucking her mouth, greedily accepting all she had to offer and taking more.
Roaring his release, his body stiffened, his cock spilled his seed into Kate’s welcoming mouth. She sucked him dry as tiny shivers and aftershocks continued to rock his body straight to his very soul. That’s when he knew his world was irrevocably changed forever. This woman had completely turned his world upside down in a few short weeks. He slid the truck into his garage and threw the gearshift into park. The question was, what did he intend to do about it?
Chapter Eleven
As the weeks progressed, Grant fell in love with Kate a little more every day. With her by his side and in his bed it was easy to go out and face the world. That nagging little voice in his head was all but nonexistent. Her outgoing personality and inquisitive nature were the key to his sanity. And the sex. Grant exhaled a low whistle while he stared out his office window at downtown Phoenix skyscrapers. The sex was fucking incredible. So far, there hadn’t been anything off limits.
The only problem in his perfect little domain was the fact Kate still planned on taking that fucking base-jumping trip down to Burro Creek Canyon. He swore loudly and began to pace his office. His next appointment wasn’t due for another fifteen minutes. How the hell was he going to keep her from going? Every time he broached the subject, an argument ensued followed by the most incredible makeup sex. Sometimes he thought he’d just tie her to his bed and keep her there for her own good, but then reality set in and he knew that wasn’t a real solution, as much as the idea appealed to him.
Kate would argue he was trying to control her, but Grant didn’t see things that way. All he was doing was trying to keep her safe. Couldn’t she see that if anything happened to her… He squeezed his eyes shut, unable to finish the thought. She was too important to him, to his recovery, to keeping his life on track. Why couldn’t she see that?
A knock sounded on his door before it opened. “You’re 11:30 appointment is here, Dr. Anderson,” his secretary, Doris said.
“Send him in,” Grant said, rounding his desk. He sighed, determined that tonight he would make Kate see reason.
******
Kate loved movie nights with Grant. In her opinion, there was nothing better than broadening someone’s horizons when it came to cinematic classics—namely sci-fi and action adventure flicks. Tonight, she’d hit him with the new Captain America flick. When he’d told her the other day he hadn’t seen it, she’d been aghast asking him if he’d lived under a rock. His answer a noncommittal shrug and it was only then she’d remembered his agoraphobia. Shame had filled her. The poor guy had missed out on so much because of his condition.
After a night of blissfully naughty sex, he’d confided in her that she was a key component to him being able to reach his goals with his own therapy. That being with her made it easy for him to venture out into the world and had even gone so far to say that if she hadn’t come into his life, he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t have relapsed, moving back into his grandmother’s house. That was when she’d found out that he hadn’t sold the property yet, preferring to hold on to the old place like a security blanket.
Outwardly she’d been pleased to be such an integral part of his progress, but secretly worried that he placed too much value on her role in his life and wasn’t giving himself enough credit for reaching his goals. He was a grown man, able to stand on his own two feet and conquer the world. Why couldn’t he see the value in himself the way she did?
She sighed heavily and grabbed the small stepladder that she used to reach the top shelf in her pantry where she kept the extra large bowl she used for the popcorn. A loud burst of thunder clapped overhead. Kate jumped, lost her balance, screamed, and fell. Her head slammed into the tiled floor and blackness consumed her consciousness.
Chapter Twelve
Grant heard Kate scream as he was about to knock on her front door. Panic seized him and he pounded. “Kate? Kate, it’s Grant. Let me in.”
Silence greeted him. Swearing, he grasped the door handle and turned the knob. Locked. Shit!
With his shoulder, he rammed the door, adrenaline fueling his strength and making him numb to the pain. After what seemed like an eternity, the door flew open on its hinges, propelling him through the threshold on unsteady legs. Righting himself, he shouted Kate’s name over and over looking for her frantically.
She has to be all right. She just has to be.
On his way toward the bedroom his glance happened upon a single flip flop lying haphazardly on the tiled floor of the kitchen. Changing directions, he veered off and rounded the kitchen counter and that’s where he saw Kate’s unconscious body in a crumpled heap on the floor in a pool of blood. A small stepladder lay overturned on its side near her body.
“Kate!”
For a moment, all Grant could do was stand there, staring, paralyzed with fear. He was transported back into time to that fateful day that had changed his life forever. All the old memories of the fatal crash that had claimed the life of his mother and father crowded in on his mind. The smell of gasoline, the excruciating pain of his own injuries wracking his small body, his mother’s moans before she’d lost consciousness… Worst of all, the empty, blank stares of his parent’s lifeless bodies.
His body trembled. This is all your fault, the voice sneered in his head. You couldn’t keep her safe, either. She’s dead. Just like your parents.
“No,” he whispered. “That’s not true.” Grant shook his head hard. “It’s not true,” he repeated, louder this time.
He rushed to her side and gently probed her body for injuries. There was a large knot and laceration on the back of her head. She must’ve struck her head on the granite countertop when she’d fallen. Yanking out his cell from the back pocket of his jeans, he dialed 911. With his free hand he grasped a kitchen towel from where it hung on the refrigerator door and held direct pressure on the gash to stem the flow of bleeding.
“911 Operator. What’s your emergency?” the calm female voice said.
“My girlfriend fell off a step ladder, hit her head, and is unconscious and bleeding. You need to send an ambulance immediately,” Grant said, striving for a calm he didn’t feel.
“Your girlfriend fell and hit her head, sir?” the woman repeated. “And she’d unconscious and bleeding?”
“Yes,” Grant snapped. “That’s what I just said. You need to send help
right away.”
“What is your location?”
“4800 N. Woodmere Fairway, number three, Scottsdale. Please hurry,” he said, barely holding on to his sanity. He’d propped Kate’s limp body onto his chest to elevate her head to decrease intracranial pressure in case she had internal bleeding.
“An ambulance is on the way, sir. Please remain on the line,” the dispatcher said.
Grant placed his phone on speaker and set it on the tiled floor. “Kate,” he said. “Baby, please open those beautiful brown eyes. Say something. Anything, please,” he begged, but she remained silent.
After what seemed like several lifetimes, the paramedics arrived. “Oh, thank Christ, you’re here,” Grant said.
A young man in his early twenties came through the open doorway of the apartment, followed by a young woman about the same age. They both were dressed in sky-blue sleeveless shirts, dark navy blue pants, and black utility boots. The male knelt beside them on the floor. There was a Southwest Ambulance emblem on the matching navy baseball cap he wore. He slid a trauma pack off his shoulder.
“Hi, sir. My name is Joe and this is my partner Jill.” He gestured to his partner who lowered a stretcher to the floor. “What happened here?”
Grant relayed what he knew, which wasn’t much he thought sourly, and watched the medics work. After a cursory examination, they gently placed Kate’s body onto their gurney, secured the seatbelts, then applied a heart monitor lead to her chest and took a blood pressure. Jill wrapped Kate’s head in some sort of gauze bandage while her partner checked a blood sugar level.
“How long has she been out?” Joe asked.
Grant scrubbed his chin and thought. “I don’t know. Maybe twenty minutes?”
“Is she allergic to anything? Taking any medications?” Jill asked, typing furiously on a portable tablet.
