by Decker, Ally
Then she clenched her muscles around him and he groaned even louder than her. He started moving, the rhythm of his hips slower at first, then faster. She came with a gasp and he fucked her through it, her moans pushing him on, blending in with the blood pulsing in his ears until he followed her orgasm with his own.
CHAPTER TEN
Naomi lay there, spent and staring at the ceiling, as the currents of pleasure ran through her again and again. Elliot—ever the gentleman—managed to avoid crushing her with his weight, falling right next to her instead and she could feel his chest expanding, pressing lightly against her in a nice counter rhythm to her own fast breathing.
At some point, he must've dealt with the condom, but Naomi didn't notice, closing her eyes and opening them slowly, then closing them again. Her mind was blissfully blank, her body humming with pleasure and the best kind of ache.
Letting him stay was not a conscious decision, she just didn't let him leave the bed before sleep overtook her.
***
When she woke up, the first thing she noticed was the heat. She tended to get cold during the night, bundling under covers and an additional blanket and still waking up slightly chilly, but now—now it was perfect.
It took her another second to register the source of that heat. Elliot, pressed against her back, was more than a nice reminder of what happened, especially since she could feel his erection against her ass cheeks. She tightened her inner muscles and smiled at the echo of the pleasure. It had been too long since she'd had sex at all, not to mention as great as this one. Her toys helped her some, but they didn't give her this.
Then, slowly, carefully, Naomi turned to look at the man in her bed. She held her breath when Elliot frowned, but then he slept on, relaxing again. She stared at his face for the longest time, watching, observing, and cataloging everything so she could later put it on paper. When she had her fill of that, she glanced lower—the collarbones, the defined muscles, the tattoo.
The tattoo she'd put on him.
Naomi had never felt possessive about one of her tattoos, let alone a person wearing one, but now, in the confines of her bed and the safety of her own head, she could admit that was what she felt curling in her stomach now. It was more than just pride of seeing her work on someone else's skin, more than just the feeling of a job well done. It was about seeing her work on Elliot's skin. That made all the difference.
She moved her hand before she could talk herself out of it and brushed the tips of her fingers over the outline of the heart. It looked beautiful on Elliot's pale skin and she wanted to press her whole hand over it, to feel his actual heartbeat beneath the tattoo.
Elliot did it for her. Without opening his eyes, he reached up and covered her hand with his.
"Morning," he said, voice rough from sleep, before clearing his throat and opening his eyes.
Damn. She was in trouble. His warm gaze and soft smile made her heart beat faster, much faster than the steady rhythm she could feel beneath her palm.
Although it seemed to speed up as well just now. Or maybe it was her wishful thinking?
"Morning," she whispered.
They looked at each other for the longest time and Naomi waited for a freak-out to come—she didn't usually let a guy sleep over after a second date, if at all—but it didn't. She felt well-rested, well-fucked, and excited. That was it.
"My shower is pretty big," she told him, a smile tugging at her lips when his gaze went from soft to hot in less than a second. "We could try sharing."
"Excellent." He sat up and pulled her hand to his lips to kiss her knuckles. "Come on, then."
"A little impatient, are you?" she teased, getting out of bed. "I didn't know you're such an enthusiast of a good hygiene."
"I'm a doctor, after all." He smirked, following her up, and her train of thoughts was derailed by the sight of him, naked, in the early morning light. Damn, damn, damn.
She cleared her throat. "Okay, Doc. Let's get clean, then."
Elliot pulled her close against his body. "Is getting dirty afterward included in this offer?"
"After, during, both are good."
He grinned, showing teeth, as he slipped his hands lower to grab her ass and pull her up. "Both it is, then."
She tangled her legs around his hips, marveling at the ease he lifted her with. Before this was over, he needed to fuck her against a wall, just like this.
But Naomi didn't want to think about them being done with each other, so she nuzzled into his prickly neck. "Come on, then," she urged him. "To the shower."
***
For that weekend, and for the next few weeks, Elliot was the only part of her life that was going well. Ed's search hadn't brought any results so far, and neither did her contacts in New York. This city was simply too full of both established and aspiring tattoo artists. She'd known she'd lucked out when she'd gotten Lion's Den gig simply because of the fact that Ed had recognized a tattoo in her portfolio that he'd fallen in love with a few years back. As it turned out, she'd inked one of his friends when said friend had been on tour in California. The guy hadn't remembered her name or the tattoo parlor, so Ed couldn't track her down. Not until she'd showed up at his parlor herself.
But this kind of stories were one in a million and she'd already used up her luck. So if Ed wasn't going to find a solution soon…
Naomi didn't want to think about possibly leaving New York in the near future, but she also couldn't let herself not prepare for it at all. Her rational brain needed to always win, because she knew that leading with emotions only landed people in more trouble. So she contacted all the places she worked at or took a gig at in the last few years. The most promising so far was the parlor in San Diego, but Naomi's parents were currently living there and she didn't think being so close was a good idea for any of them. Unless, of course, they were going to move again, but her mother hadn't called with any news, so maybe that whole thing was shelved for the time being.
The fact that she hadn't told Elliot about any of this kept her up at night whenever they didn't have plans together. She felt bad, of course she did, but… What would she say, exactly? "I don't know if I'm going to be around past April, so don't make any plans"? "Don't get too attached"? That sounded presumptuous, for one. And for the other, well. Naomi was fairly certain Elliot wouldn't want to continue this, whatever it was, if he'd known there was a clock running on it, and she was selfish enough to admit that she didn't want things to end yet. If all they had was three months, she wanted whole three months.
She tried to take her own advice and not get too attached, but that worked with varying degrees of success. She did pretty good with keeping them to the present, staying clear of all the discussions about the future. Elliot seemed to avoid talking about family history and potential minefields thereof, a sentiment which she shared wholeheartedly. But her plan of avoiding sleepovers and similar couple-y things kept getting thwarted. There were only so many excuses she could came up with, not to mention she'd hated the flash of disappointment on Elliot's face whenever she did so.
And now there was this invitation she didn't know how to get out of.
Naomi wouldn't be surprised if Elliot had caught on to what she was doing, since he'd started with a general question about her plans for the week. Only when she'd said she was busy during the week, but had a weekend off, did he follow that up with the fundraiser party news.
"Listen, I know it's probably not your idea of a good time," he added quickly. "It's not mine, either, to be honest, but it's the one party I can't miss. My brother would drag me there by force if he had to, and my parents would arrange for a getaway car, probably." He gave her that twisted, self-deprecating smile he tended to wear whenever talking about his family, and Naomi's defenses wobbled and started to crumble. "It would be much more tolerable with you there. Who knows, maybe we'd even have fun, but if not, there are always late night French fries to fix things up."
She gave him props for making a valiant effort to turn this into a joke
, but she couldn't help noticing that the longer she didn't say anything, the dimmer his smile became.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit. She could do this. She'd met most of his family already, anyway.
"For a boring formal dinner, I demand late night burgers," she told him. If her teasing came out a little forced, he didn't say anything.
He kissed her instead. "Thank you," he whispered against her lips. Then, "You can have your burgers."
She ignored the tension clenching around her stomach and played along.
"My, my, heart doctor allowing late night burgers? Who would've thought?"
He huffed and shook his head. "Don't get used to it."
Don't get used to it.
She hid her head in his chest to cover her reaction.
Damn it, this is going to end badly.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Elliot tightened his grip on the chart as he looked towards Mr. Jackson's room.
"I'm sorry, man." Chin clasped him on the shoulder. "We tried, but we just couldn't get him back."
And Elliot knew the odds, knew that there was always a chance of this happening, but damn it, he hated when everything went right only to crash later on. The surgery had been smooth, the post-op stats as good as they could be.
Then today, a few weeks later, Mr. Jackson was brought to the ER with a major cardiac episode and was pronounced dead twenty minutes after that.
He saw the patient's wife talking with Dr. Mayer, the attending on call, so he turned around and headed for the elevator. He'd been paged right after coming out of the surgery and he'd gotten here as soon as he could, but there was nothing he could've done. There was nothing he could tell Mrs. Jackson either.
He got into the—thankfully empty—elevator and leaned against the side wall, closing his eyes. He pushed back the memory of Mr. Jackson's kids and grandkids sitting around his bed whenever Elliot came over to check on him.
Stop it, he told himself. No good ever comes out of it.
When the elevator paused at the cardiothoracic surgery floor, he squared his shoulders and walked out, going straight into the post-op. The patient was stable and still under, so Elliot left him in the nurses' care and moved to the staff room to write down his report.
Six more hours until the end of the shift.
If only he didn't have that damn fundraiser dinner to go to, maybe he'd be able to look forward to a nice evening with Naomi. But he hadn't needed Aiden's reminders to know that this was the one night he absolutely couldn't miss. Showing up at Linda Theratti's parties had been drilled into him ever since he could remember. She'd been his mother's close friend and a shark among New York's wealthiest, which was not an easy accomplishment. At least she was using it for a good cause, Elliot supposed.
And, this time, he wouldn't be suffering through the night alone. Naomi was going to be there, which instantly made it much more bearable. Sure, he would trade it for a quiet night home with her in an instant, but if he'd had to go to a black tie event, at least he would be in good company.
And Naomi should be a good buffer between him and his family, too. They all—Elliot included, he admitted that—tended to behave better around other people, but since he rarely invited anyone to family events, he was usually the odd one out. Having Naomi in his corner tonight made him feel much better about the evening already.
Okay, slightly better.
Still, he would take that. He just needed to survive the rest of this shift.
***
Chin found him in the staff room a few hours later when he was fighting with one of the cufflinks.
"You've got the nurses all excited, what did you— Oh, damn. I see their point. You clean up nice."
Elliot rolled his eyes. "I don't have time to get home, so I took a shower here. I tried to go by unnoticed, but I obviously didn't manage that."
"Did someone catch you naked?" Chin was obviously fighting not to laugh.
"What? No! I was in my undershirt, I just didn't want to take my shirt to the bathroom." Elliot tugged too hard on the cuff of his shirt. "Damn it."
"Here, let me." Chin stepped in and quickly put the cufflink in place. "There."
Elliot thanked him before grabbing his tie from the chair. He could feel his friend's eyes on him, but maybe if he pretended—
"This has been a shitty day," Chin said, and Elliot's shoulders tensed even more. So much for pretending.
"It has. But the shift's over. Now I just need to survive this party."
"At least you'll be drinking champagne for a good cause?"
Elliot snorted, staring at the mirror as he fixed his tie. "Yeah." Then he caught Chin's reflection and grimaced. "Sorry, I just…"
Chin waved his hand as he headed for the door. "Forget it, man, no big. Save the cheer for the schmoozing, we already know what a grump you are."
There was that. Still, he didn't like to take it out on his friends, so he promised himself to buy Chin a beer next time they were out.
Elliot checked out the clock for the hundredth time. Naomi and he agreed to meet here to go to the fundraiser together, and right now there was nothing left for him but wait. He was as ready as he was ever going to be, so he busied himself with one of the medical journals he had saved on his ever-growing list of things to read. He wasn't sure how well he was going to remember anything he read, but he pushed through two articles before his cell phone buzzed with the text message.
Naomi was here.
He grabbed his things and rushed out, nodding goodbyes at the nurses at the station. They gave him big, bright smiles that helped to elevate some of that foul mood he was in. He didn't want to take it out on Naomi, that was for sure. She was already doing him a big favor, going with him to the party.
As he got to the lobby, he paused at the sight of her. She had taken off her coat and stood near the wall and out of the way, in a black dress and heels that showed off her legs in a way that brought Elliot ideas definitely not suited for a public space. Especially his work place.
"You look beautiful," he told her in greeting, pressing a quick kiss to her lips.
She gave him a smile he could tell was a little tense, but he didn't blame her. He was tense, too.
"Thanks. You look great, as well."
"Shall we?" He gestured reluctantly towards the exit.
As they got outside, Elliot put his arm around her waist and kissed the side of her head. "Thanks again for doing this with me."
She leaned into the embrace. "Let's just try to have a good time. Maybe it won't be so bad."
***
It was bad. Not the disastrous kind of bad, but his-family-being-forced-to-spend-time-together kind.
At Rebecca's wedding, the Dolinski siblings were sitting not only with Aiden and Tori's dates, but also with complete strangers. It definitely helped to keep polite conversations going. But now, the whole family sat together, including their parents, and there was no one but Naomi, Paula, and Chuck to distract them from themselves. The proper, empty pleasantness could choke a man.
With Aiden's warning before the wedding still fresh in his mind, Elliot tried his best to play his designated role when they were at the table, but when others started talking about legal cases they were working on, he had no qualms about focusing on Naomi almost exclusively. They talked about how her day went and about her clients. He side-stepped the questions about his day with a grimace and a shake of his head, and she accepted that, nodding and launching into a story about Ed and Fiona's fight of the day. From all Naomi's stories, he felt like he knew all of Lion's Den crew well and agreed with her that these two should do something about their mutual interest as soon as possible. He'd known from experience that waiting too long could potentially lead to a blow-out and waiting thirteen years for another chance.
Although, he had to admit, he definitely liked that he'd gotten that second chance, thirteen years or not.
Then, during the dessert, Tori nudged him with her elbow from her seat on his other side.
&n
bsp; "How about you, huh? Saved any lives today?"
He shouldn't have said it. He knew it as soon as the words were coming out of his mouth, but Tori accidentally pressed on a wound that was still bleeding and he didn't think.
"Lost one, actually."
And he intended that just for her, he didn't say it loudly, but luck was just not anywhere with him tonight and the words fell into a pause in other conversations.
His throat closed for a moment as everyone at the table looked at him. Then, when he saw Aiden opening his mouth, Elliot regained the ability to speak and quickly tried to cover his slip.
"But I also read an article you all may find interesting, on the continuous legal questions on the living organ and tissue donors—" As he recapped the article, he could see the faces around him relax. His parents even seemed interested in the topic, and Paula was the first one to address one of his points. From that, the conversation grew and though some of the things they were tossing around flew right over his head, he could sit back in his chair. Crisis averted.
He turned his fork around, nodding in the right places and internally cursing himself—Maybe Aiden was right, maybe I really am just posing to cause trouble—when Naomi slipped her hand to rest it on his thigh, palm turned up, inviting.
Elliot grabbed it like a drowning man and held on.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Whatever Naomi had imagined about this dinner—uncomfortable small talk, food portions that were too small to feed a preadolescent child, and people looking down on her for her job or for wearing a dress she'd bought in a chain store on sale three years back—it had nothing on what had actually occurred.
Sure, the conversation was uncomfortable at times when she was forced to interact with anyone other than Elliot, but she would take five more hours of those chit-chats over whatever it was that happened when Elliot admitted he'd lost one of his patients. She could admit that she didn't know how to react at first, too, but there was something about the way Dolinskis froze that rubbed her the wrong way. It felt like the world had stopped because they got to hear something painful, something that wasn't put in the fancy legal terms or wasn't a part of another "remember when" or "did you hear" courtroom story.