Immortally Ever After

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Immortally Ever After Page 4

by Angie Fox


  “Shh…” he whispered against my lips. His voice moved over me like a touch, and just like that, I had the insane desire to lick the sweet spot below his left ear.

  He dragged me close and his mouth descended on mine. His kiss was hot and urgent, born from pent-up longing and regret. I kissed him back with everything I had as I clutched at his shoulders, ran my hands over his broad back, whispered my fingers through his short, thick hair.

  His body tangled with mine, hard and insistent as he drew me tight. We clung to each other, kissing, touching, worshipping each other the only way we could.

  I remembered the taste of him, the gentle stroke of his blunt, battle-hardened fingers. It was like coming home.

  He kissed my neck, his teeth grazing my skin, igniting sparks of sheer lust. His hands traveled up my sides and caught under my breasts. I gasped as his thumb grazed a nipple.

  I lifted my arms like a child as he stripped me of my tank top. I wasn’t wearing a bra and I watched his eyes darken with desire as he took in my bare breasts. God, I loved that look. Only Galen looked at me that way.

  “I almost forgot how beautiful you are,” he murmured to himself. If I didn’t know better, I’d think it was pure wonder coloring his voice as he bent to take my nipple into his mouth.

  He laid me down on the bed, but I barely felt the mattress beneath me as Galen feasted on my breasts. I wrapped my legs around his hips. I needed him closer, I needed more.

  His blue eyes caught mine and I watched him lave a nipple as his other hand found the tie of my scrub pants. He tugged it open, skimming his fingers under my panties to where I wanted him most.

  “Holy hell, Galen.”

  It was too much, and at the same time, I needed more—craved it like air.

  “Tell me what you want,” he said, finding my slick center.

  God, I was on fire. I ran my hands along his chest, flicked a nipple, and watched him gasp. Heard him groan as I tasted it.

  I writhed my hips against him, but damn the man, he didn’t move.

  No more teasing. No more talk. I needed him. Now. Hot and naked and inside me.

  He watched me like he wanted to devour me whole. “Say it, Petra.” He teased my opening with his fingers. Fucking-a—he was still fully dressed.

  I shoved myself up on my shaking elbows. “Get naked. Now.”

  He stood in one fluid movement. Jesus, he was incredible. “Why?” he asked, satisfaction warring with desire as he yanked off his shirt and dropped it on the floor. He shook out his shoulders. “What are you going to do to me?”

  I had no words.

  Eyes on me, he tugged open the top button on his fatigue pants, like he was ready to tear it off. “Tell me,” he ordered, as he ripped open the next button. His hand moved lower still, baring those gorgeous abs, that thin line of black hair that traveled straight to his cock.

  My throat went dry.

  I could see the outline of his cock, raging hard against his fatigues.

  One more button.

  He stopped, the muscles in his neck corded, his body straining to hold back. Waiting.

  Trembling, I slipped my thumbs under my panties and slipped them off, along with my scrub pants. I let my knees fall open, baring myself to him.

  He let out a low groan in the back of his throat and for a second I thought he was going to snap. Then again, this was Galen. The man knew no limits.

  I licked my lips. I wanted to tell him to fuck me, to shove himself inside me and ride me, make me come. But I wanted more. Shyness crept up on me as I said the words. “Make love to me, Galen.”

  His eyes widened and the sheer tenderness on his face took my breath away. And then he was on me, the delicious weight of him on top of me as he shoved off the fatigue pants and fit himself against the core of me.

  He braced himself over me, grinning like a madman.

  “What?” I asked, finding it was contagious.

  “I love you.”

  Warmth flooded me. How I needed those words. How I wanted him.

  I brushed my lips against his once, twice.

  He shifted and I felt the tip of him against me. “Always,” he said, driving home.

  I wrapped my legs around him, holding him close as he began to move. Sweet heaven. There was nothing more perfect than the feel of this man inside me, over me, his hot hard length owning me. No one but Galen made me feel this way—so whole, so honest, so scorchingly alive.

  I kissed him, straining to meet his thrusts. His hands were everywhere. So were mine, stroking, touching, loving.

  “Galen.” I gasped against his mouth, kissing the edges, kissing his chin. “Don’t stop.” Ever. I didn’t … “I don’t want this to end.”

  He nuzzled my neck, stroking my thigh. “It doesn’t have to.”

  He hooked a hand under my knee and drew me wider as he pushed himself achingly and beautifully deep.

  “Stay with me.” His lips ground against my ear.

  Always.

  He pushed harder. Any second, I was going to shatter.

  “More.” I reached behind him and cupped his heavy sack.

  “Gods!” He thrust hard, tumbling us both over the edge.

  I came undone, the pleasure of it rocketing through me. I clung to him, like I’d never let go. Feeling everything this man was and could be to me. I didn’t want it to end.

  The next instant, I was alone, naked in the desert. The cool night air swept over my body like an icy touch. I raced to my feet, cold shock flooding me. Goose bumps raced up my damp skin as I moved to cover myself.

  Galen was gone.

  * * *

  I woke with a start, blind in the night, before the light from the single lantern slowly came into focus. I felt as trapped and alone as I had in the desert. Or maybe it was still the dream. I sat up slowly, feeling Marc shift on the cot behind me.

  He was awake. He caressed my hip, as if it were a question.

  “I have to go,” I said into the darkness.

  * * *

  Marc didn’t protest as I slipped out of the tent. It was too early to show up at Rodger’s with my things, but still, I had to get away. I showered and changed into a fresh pair of scrubs.

  Dawn was breaking as I detoured on the way back from the showers and went to go check on our patients. With any luck, Galen had gotten some rest last night as well—although I hoped to God his dreams weren’t as vivid as mine.

  Jeffe remained outside the intensive care entrance, looking as fierce as he could while wearing my hot-pink I’m Not Really a Waitress nail polish.

  When I eased my way inside, Holly sat at the small ICU desk.

  She stood, eyes wide, when she saw me. “Why didn’t you tell me Galen was back?”

  “Shh!” She’d probably meant to whisper, but it came out like more of a shriek. The ICU was smack-dab between Recovery and the OR, and noise traveled. “He got in last night,” I said, voice low, eyes flicking to the doors that led to the other rooms. “Marc and I treated him.”

  She moved to my side. “I can’t believe nobody told me.”

  “I know. It’s a first, right?”

  “So what happened with Marc?” she asked, reaching for my hand. “Oh.” Her eyes widened as her fingers tightened around mine. “Did you give it back?” She cringed. “Is this because of Galen?”

  I snatched my hand back. “No. And no.”

  She eyed me. “You can’t leave me in the dark on this.”

  “Watch me.” I reached for her trademark candy jar and came up with air.

  She dug into her pocket and handed me a Laffy Taffy. “Defensive much? I just want to help.”

  I got that. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “Jeffe found me last night, said it was a matter of life or death that I switch shifts.”

  In this case, he wasn’t exaggerating. “Thank God for small favors,” I said, unwrapping the candy, “and gambling debts.”

  “I would have done it
anyway.” Holly leaned in closer, as if the plywood walls had ears. “Shirley could have been a little more creative with the names. I mean really—John and Jane Doe?”

  I bit into the tart cherry-flavored taffy. “By the time the paperwork is processed, they’ll be gone.”

  “What’s going on in there, anyway?”

  Nothing I wanted to explain. I stuffed the wrapper into my pocket. “I can’t believe you and Shirley are in on this now.”

  Galen needed to take that woman and get her out of here.

  Holly moved to the other side of the desk and retrieved the charts. “She’s been asleep most of the time,” Holly said, her eyes flicking to the door. “He’s a handful.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know,” I said, accepting the charts and girding my loins.

  With any luck, we’d have them out of here soon.

  Unless Galen had other plans. When that happened, the man was a brick wall.

  I paused for a second outside the door, charts tucked under my arm, as I centered myself and assembled a mask of careful neutrality. I’d mastered the look in my years as a medical professional. Too bad Galen could see through it in about two seconds flat. No doubt he’d been listening to everything Holly and I had said. At least she’d resisted the temptation to ask me how I felt about seeing him again.

  I pushed the door open, half expecting to see him standing next to his bed, like in my dream. For once, I was glad to see him flat on his back in a hospital bed. He sat slowly, his pecs flexing as he pushed himself up. Naturally, he wasn’t wearing his gown. In fact, I was willing to bet he was buck naked under that sheet.

  Don’t think about it.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked, going for inane chitchat as I placed the charts on a rolling cart and unwound the stethoscope from around my neck.

  He watched me, as if he knew what I was thinking. “I’m better now.”

  My gaze flicked back to his chest and I remembered how I’d tasted it in my dream.

  Stop.

  This was lunacy. I shouldn’t want Galen. I was stronger than that.

  I did my best to remain clinical and I might have even pulled it off. There was no point in lingering as I checked the bandages on his shoulders, his side, and on his hip. Yep. Naked.

  I took his vitals. No need to focus on the way his touch rocketed through me.

  He’d obviously seen some action even before he’d received his most recent wounds. There was a fresh pink scar across one shoulder blade, another slice on his arm.

  I itched to touch it, to make it better.

  It wasn’t my problem anymore.

  I wished he’d never come to camp, with her. I didn’t do this emotional shit and I sure as hell wasn’t the type who could seesaw back and forth. I’d seen enough drama and loss to last me a dozen lifetimes. I’d lived it every day for eight years and I didn’t need a fucked-up personal life as well. I’d done my level best to forget about Galen and I couldn’t wait to get back to it.

  So why had I come here early? Alone?

  Because I was an idiot, that’s why. Galen made me do stupid things like think too much and talk too much and care.

  His eyes caught mine. He touched my arm and I stilled as the heat of it wound through to the very core of me. It was such a familiar feeling, and I hated that I craved it. “Thank you for saving her.”

  I shook my head and pulled away, resisting the urge to rub at the spot. “Thank Marc. I almost killed her.”

  I made the notations in his chart and then moved to her. I didn’t want to wake her up, so I read over the night notes for a minute. I could feel his presence soaking the air behind me.

  He cleared his throat roughly. “I’m glad you were here,” he said to my back.

  I squeezed my eyes closed, then forced myself back to what really mattered, or what I could at least control.

  Holly’s blue scrawls were harder than usual to follow. I started over.

  On one hand, I was glad that he could call on me during desperate times. But the other part of me screamed at how unfair it was that he thought he could cut me out of his life and then just slam back into camp like nothing had happened. Back into my dreams.

  He’d endangered us all.

  And he had no right to look at me the way he was right now, like nothing had changed. Like he’d never left.

  He tilted his head, a faint smile playing over his lips. “You look good, Petra.”

  I fought off a wave of longing. I didn’t want to have this conversation, like we were old friends who happened to run into each other.

  “I’m not doing this,” I said tightly.

  He’d been more than my lover. He’d been everything to me. He was my life. And he’d walked away when I’d needed him most. He’d willingly cut me out, blocked off all communication. Pretended I didn’t exist.

  He’d messed with my head so badly, I couldn’t even commit to a man who loved me and did want to be with me.

  And so I focused on the situation instead of the man.

  “Why did you bring her here?”

  For a split second, he looked vulnerable. The muscles in his jaw flexed. “I needed to keep her secret—and alive.” He gave me a level look. “This is important.”

  “But I’m not important enough to tell me what’s going on.”

  He gritted his jaw. “It’s classified.”

  I tucked the charts under my arm. “I’m out of here.”

  The words rushed out of him. “I don’t want to put you in any more danger than I have.”

  That stopped me. “Too late.”

  He sat up straighter, winced. “What happened to you?”

  I returned his look with a hard stare of my own. “You don’t get to ask me those kinds of questions anymore.”

  He watched me, as if he could see into me by sheer force of will. “I heard you moved on,” he said, his voice tight. His mouth twisted at my surprise. He crossed his arms over the wide planes of his chest. “You know how hard it is to keep a secret around here.”

  Heat rushed through my veins. “Marc isn’t a secret.” I wasn’t about to tell him how everything had gone wrong. I needed to leave, to run, to let this be over. I notched my chin up. “Marc asked me to marry him.”

  “Good.” He swallowed hard, staring straight ahead.

  My face warmed. I couldn’t believe I’d said that. But I wasn’t about to open any doors with Galen. “You told me not to wait for you.”

  He simply nodded.

  It was over between us. It had been since Galen ended it all those months ago.

  “I still love you,” Galen said quietly, as I pushed out the door.

  I kept walking.

  chapter five

  I tossed the charts onto Holly’s desk and headed outside. Blood pounded in my veins and my head felt like it was going to float away.

  He had no right to pull me into his emotional shit.

  Before I met him, my love life was blissfully simple. I had none. Now it was a goddamn fucking soap opera, and a shitty one too.

  I stalked across the crowded courtyard and made a beeline for my tent. God, I hoped Marc wasn’t there. Still, if I was going to break down, I sure as hell wasn’t going to do it out here.

  He still loves me. What the fuck was I supposed to do with that?

  Sure, he might want me, but he certainly couldn’t be with me. He couldn’t love me, hold me, laugh with me. So, basically, his love was a false promise, a tease.

  I dug my hands into my pockets and squinted against the morning glare. I didn’t feel cared for, I felt played.

  Shouts sounded a split second before a group of maintenance workers nearly ran me over from behind. “Watch it!” I stumbled forward. Could anybody give me a break this morning?

  I’d just braced a hand on the supply depot when a gaggle of clerks picked that moment to come pouring out like it was on fire.

  “This is it. This is it.” One of them grimaced, giving a hard shake to my shoulder as she
passed.

  Oh, geez. My stomach gave a twirl. I’d already had enough excitement to last me the rest of the war.

  “Cool it,” I protested as a petite yet forceful secretary trod on my foot.

  “Sorry!” she called, joining the throng of people heading south.

  A burly sergeant rushed past, the one I’d treated after he’d started a locust plague a few months back. “You.” I grabbed him by the sleeve. “What’s happening?”

  His meaty face and bald forehead shone with sweat. “The war has started again.”

  I dropped my grip.

  “They say it’s worse this time.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to take it all in. “How could it be worse?” This was war. We specialized in blood, death, and destruction. We had a monopoly on misery.

  I joined the crowd, some of us running now.

  We’d had peace for such a short, precious time. It wasn’t fair. It broke my heart to think it could be over so fast.

  We jogged past the maintenance and supply tents, kicking up the red dust on the paths. The grit worked its way into my eyes and up my nose. I rubbed my face on my sleeve.

  The crowd bottlenecked about fifty yards down, at the mess tent. It stretched long and flat under the limbo suns. To the right of it, a maze of personnel tents unfolded into the distance.

  “Come on.” I halted at the back of the jostling line. At least everyone was in as much of a hurry as I was.

  A collective gasp rose from inside the tent and a few people on the outside started pushing and shouting.

  “Just what I’ve always wanted to see,” grumbled a voice behind me. “A riot.”

  I turned to find Captain Thaïs. He was my least favorite doctor in camp and not just because he was a demigod asshole. Thaïs had almost killed me a few months ago. He’d made an insane attempt to incinerate the enemy and hadn’t minded in the least if he got me too.

  He had no conscience, no soul, which meant the gods had carted him off to jail for about five minutes, before pardoning him.

  I didn’t even want to share the same air. Thank God the mechanics had taken things into their own hands. Lazio had unbolted the mess hall doors from their hinges and tossed them aside.

  Worked for me.

 

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