by Rhian Cahill
“Status?” he barked as he surveyed the scene.
“Airway clear, that’s as far as I got before we landed. He’s been out less than a minute.”
“Clamp the umbilical.” He held out two clamps.
Mazey did as asked and realized there was a second team of medical staff waiting on the other side of the chopper to take the baby’s mother as soon as they separated the two.
No sooner did she have the clamps in place than the masked, scrub wearer snipped through the only thing keeping the baby alive right now and whisked him away to place him in a transport incubator. The team around him converged, quickly getting to work on the newborn.
Arms gripped her waist and lifted. The second her weight lifted from the gurney, it and their other patient were yanked from the chopper. She heard Levi giving a report as he followed the team frantically working on the woman, heard someone yell for a particular doctor, saw the trail of blood dripping from beneath the woman’s lifeless body as they whisked her toward the building entrance.
Her knees buckled.
“Easy,” Rylan murmured in her ear. “I’ve got you.”
“I need—”
“Take a second to catch your breath.”
She nodded. Her mind racing with what she’d done, what she could have done differently.
“Don’t think about it. You did what you could.”
How did he know what she was thinking?
“We need to get back to base, but we’ve got time to clean up. Check—”
“No. As soon as Levi gets back, we can head out.” She didn’t need to follow either patient. She’d relayed what she could, and this wasn’t her hospital, she’d only get in the way if she went inside.
“Are you sure?”
Mazey needed to be. She wasn’t. But she needed to be. With a sharp jerk of her head, she stepped from Rylan’s grasp. “Let’s get ready to take off.”
They didn’t talk anymore, and when Levi came back, they loaded in, and Rylan and Devon lifted the chopper in their usual smooth fashion.
Mazey knew she was shutting everything out—shutting down—when Rylan stood beside her in the open chopper door, the base buildings behind him, Devon and Levi nowhere in sight.
She didn’t remember any of the flight back. Couldn’t say how long it had taken them.
“Levi said bye,” Rylan said, his gaze searching hers.
Glancing around, she couldn’t see either man anywhere. “I should . . .”
“You should go inside and get out of those clothes, take a shower.”
He was right. She knew that.
“C’mon.”
“No. We need to clean the chopper.”
“I can do that.”
“It’s part of the job, Ry, no matter what happens out there.” She needed him to let her do her job. If she didn’t, she’d break, and she wasn’t ready for that to happen yet.
There must have been something in her eyes, her voice, because he nodded then said, “I’ll help restock when we’re done.”
Restocking supplies wasn’t in the pilot’s job description, but she would take his help this time. She didn’t want to be alone right now. Busy hands, busy mind.
Rylan kept up a steady chatter while they cleaned up. He talked about the area, what he’d discovered in the last six months since moving to Sunnyville. He talked about where he’d been in the world with the army, asked her if she’d ever traveled, and where she’d go if she could go anywhere she wanted.
Neither of them mentioned the woman and child they’d left at Golden Valley.
And for a while, Mazey didn’t think about them. Not a stray thought until she heard the thud thud thud of the other chopper coming in.
“Bex is back,” Rylan said unnecessarily.
“Hmm . . .”
They stopped and watched their colleagues land and disembark. Bex waved and said something to Jack and Tate before heading in their direction.
Mazey knew it wasn’t going to be good before Bex opened her mouth. “They lost the mother.”
She wasn’t aware of her legs giving out until she hit the tarmac with her knees. “And the baby?”
“Holding in there, last I heard.”
Words failed her, so she tipped her head in acknowledgment.
“Thanks, Bex.” Rylan put his hand on Mazey’s shoulder and squeezed. “We appreciate the update.”
“No problem.” There was some kind of silent communication between Rylan and Bex before she added, “We’ll finish up the chopper for you.”
“Yeah, that would be good.” Rylan reached down and gripped Mazey’s elbow, lifting her to her feet. “See you inside.”
“We can’t—”
“Walk, Mazey.”
The command brooked no argument. Her legs felt numb, and each step she took seemed to drag. If it wasn’t for Rylan’s hand, for his steady push toward the admin building, Mazey didn’t think she would have made it.
And when he steered her straight to the bathroom, she was grateful. Grateful someone else was in control. Devon stepped out of the communications room, and when she saw the look he gave her, the sympathy and concern when he shook his head, she knew.
Knew despite their efforts, they’d lost them both.
Rylan groaned and pushed her through the bathroom door.
She didn’t protest Rylan’s domineering manner. Not when he maneuvered her into a shower cubicle and turned on the water.
She didn’t protest when he stripped her down to her underwear and moved her beneath the warm spray either.
She definitely didn’t protest when he stripped out of his flight suit, stepped into the shower, and wrapped her in his arms, pulling her close and holding her tight.
Surrounded by heat—the water, Rylan’s body—the numbness started to fade, and Mazey began to shake, her entire body vibrating. There was no controlling it, no stopping it. No hiding from the pain of a tragedy she wasn’t skilled enough to prevent. No hiding from the failure and grief.
As the water rained down and Rylan held her tight, she gave in with an agonized cry and broke.
16
Rylan held Mazey tightly against him beneath the shower spray as she broke apart in his arms.
He’d turned it on for two reasons. To get her clean and to mask her tears. He’d seen the second coming. Plenty of times during his years in the army, he’d seen that look. The one that told him the adrenaline rush was over and the void that it left behind would soon implode. Like many combat veterans, she struck him as the type who wouldn’t want anyone to know her weaknesses.
And this breakdown over the death of a woman and child she didn’t know, Mazey would consider weak.
If he’d learned anything about her since they’d begun working together, it was she had shields around every part of her. Her mind, her quirks, her emotions, the tender heart that pushed her into a profession that helped others. Everything that made her who she was kept hidden away from all but those she chose to allow close.
He had no clue when he’d become one of those people she let in, or even if he was. This shattering break in her walls could all be a circumstance. She had needed to let go, and he’d given her no choice but to do it in front of him.
He’d all but forced her into this small space with him. He could have guided her to the bathroom and walked away. Except he hadn’t—couldn’t, if he was honest.
He’d needed to be the one she leaned on. To know she trusted him with this vulnerable part of her. Needed to be the one she turned to when she couldn’t do it on her own anymore.
To be the one who made sure she was okay.
He’d fallen past the point of just finding her attractive, of wanting her friendship. He’d tripped into that space where he could fall in love.
After Renee, he had vowed to be careful, to think through any possible shift in his feelings when it came to the opposite sex. Yet he’d blindly, or maybe not so blindly, stumbled onto a path he hadn’t seen.
He hadn’t seen Mazey coming. She’d literally slammed into him. On the sidewalk in downtown Sunnyville.
Neither of them was ready for what swirled around in his head, around his heart. He knew that. Knew without her telling him she’d been hurt at some point, so he’d have to tread carefully.
The last thing he wanted to do was cause the woman in his arms more pain.
Or himself, for that matter.
Renee and Jake had stripped him to the core when their affair had been revealed. With distance and time, Rylan knew they hadn’t scarred his heart as much as he’d initially believed. They had bruised it, punched it and his ego enough for him to pull back and not even think about the possibility of being with someone else, someone new, for a long time.
Until Mazey Novak crashed into his life.
And if he wanted to see where this connection—this chemistry—between them could go, he needed to take it slow. Regardless of his inclination to push forward, he’d have to wait, have to let her lead. Let her take control and follow her signals. He might be able to herd her a little, maybe nudge her in the right direction. However, if he wanted their relationship to develop further, to be real, genuine, he would have to take his cues from her.
Rylan only hoped he was able to read her correctly. She appeared to be a master at hiding behind those walls of hers, and while she’d let him in a little here and there, he was a long way from having free access to all things Mazey.
He wanted a wife, a family, and for the first time since he’d had that dream cruelly ripped away, he could see it in his future again, with the woman crying in his arms as though her heart was being ripped out of her chest.
Long minutes of holding Mazey close only solidified his thoughts. He didn’t care how long it took him—he’d get behind her shields. He’d find a way to get beneath her skin as she’d gotten under his.
Over time the sobs racking her body eased, the shaking slowed, and the arms she’d tucked between them slipped out and wrapped around his back, her hands splaying over his shoulder blades holding him close. Not that he planned on going anywhere. Not with her pressed against him.
He tried to ignore the wet skin plastered to his, the softness and the curves, except he was a man and the part of him that proclaimed his maleness was doing it loud and proud now.
He’d spent weeks with a semi whenever he was around Mazey. Hell, all it took was a stray thought, and his dick stood up. There was no way he’d be unaffected by a naked and wet Mazey in his arms.
“Ry.” Her plea was spoken against his chest, her lips brushing a nipple. “I need . . .”
“Shh . . . It’s okay.” He tightened his hold. “I’ve got you.”
Her hands slipped up his back and curled around his shoulders. “Please.”
He didn’t know what she wanted, what she needed, he just knew he’d give it to her if he could. “Anything, Maz. Tell me.”
She pushed up on her toes as her hands slid to the back of his head and pulled him down. The next second, her mouth was on his, her tongue thrusting inside to tangle with his.
He should have pulled back. Should have thought about what they were doing, why they were doing it, but her mouth was on his, and he’d ached for this very thing for weeks.
And she needed this. Needed him.
Palming her ass, he lifted her off her feet and fit their bodies together in all the best places. All her softness pressed to his hardness, and the thin barrier of their underwear did nothing to block the heat generated between them. Her pussy cradled his length, warm and wet, and he couldn’t resist the need boiling inside him.
One of her hands left his head and burrowed between them, skilled fingers finding their way under his pants to stroke his pulsing dick.
He growled into her mouth, nipped at her bottom lip with a sharp snap. “More. Harder,” he demanded with a rock of his hips that had his cock sliding through her grip.
“Yes,” she hissed, her fingers squeezing tighter on the downstroke, twisting on the upstroke.
Turning, he pressed her to the shower wall and freed his hands to explore. He started with her legs, the smooth stretch of muscle from her ass to her knees, then back again. Around her hips, up her torso to the sides of her breasts, his thumbs grazed lightly over the silky flesh escaping the cups of her bra.
She arched against him, her mouth breaking free of his, and gasped, “Yes.”
Rylan couldn’t say which one of them made the next move, the one that rid them of the last of their clothing, but as each item fell away and dropped to the floor with a wet splat, he didn’t care. Didn’t think beyond the pleasure sliding through his veins, twisting the coil of heat low in his groin tighter.
And when her back bowed, her pelvis angling in a way that his cockhead slipped between her hot, slick folds, he was powerless to control the needs of his body.
In a hard, brutal shove, he drove his cock deep inside her pussy. Covering her mouth with his, he swallowed her jagged cry of pleasure, his guttural groan of relief.
His breath stalled for a moment, a split second of time where his mind cleared, and he could think beyond the carnal urges driving his actions long enough for him to believe in that small fraction of a moment that he’d finally found home. He was finally where he was supposed to be.
And then everything snapped back into place—sight, sound, sensation, and a savage need to claim—to mark this woman as his.
He’d never felt anything like it. Never needed to rut in a way that could hurt. Would hurt if he didn’t drive deep enough, hard enough, fast enough.
He continued to swallow her cries, every sweet sexy sound she made as he drilled her into the wall. He pounded her body with his over and over. Searching for a pleasure he could no longer live without, Rylan told her with words spoken into her mouth what he wanted, how he wanted her above all others.
Heat of the moment talk that was written in his bones. Talk he hoped would score her with the truth he somehow knew.
She was meant to be his.
Now.
Forever.
17
Pleasure bombarded her from every angle. He surrounded her, took her over, pushed her to reach for something so sublime she couldn’t catch her breath. Couldn’t think past the sensations splitting her in two.
She’d needed him to touch her, to make her feel alive, vital, in a way death had stripped her of. It was as primal and basic as that.
Nothing mattered more at that moment than feeling.
She had wanted him to take away the numbness, she hadn’t expected him to obliterate it, to blast that emptiness into a million teeny tiny shards of razor-edged euphoria.
Her whole being rioted with furious desire, with a need so deep and foreign Mazey wasn’t sure she’d survive it.
She didn’t care.
Couldn’t.
With a savagery that left her awed, Rylan took her on a carnal ride she had no idea existed.
Sex had never been like this. Greedy, lush, forceful.
Glorious.
Beat after beat, he drove her toward a peak so high there was no oxygen, no light, no wall against her back. Only Rylan’s body pressing on hers, in hers. Only the man whispering into her mouth words that melted her insides as easily as his driving cock melted the resistance in her pussy.
She was slick and pliant, giving where he was taking, and when she reached the top, when the light and oxygen she fought to find seemed impossible to grab, she blew apart in a soul-destroying wave of rapturous delight.
He swallowed her cry, gave her his, and as the light and air came back, Mazey wondered how she’d ever be the same again. How she’d find sanity in the aftermath of pleasure so powerful it was soul altering.
Breathing in sync with Rylan’s, she waited for the regret—the guilt. He’d tried to help her, and she’d taken advantage of that, of him.
Oh, she was sure he’d enjoyed himself, the truth of that had been evident. Except there was no denying she’d instigated their encoun
ter.
She’d been the one to kiss him, to touch him, to plead with him to touch her. He’d gotten on board soon enough but with her making that first move . . .
She doubted they would have ended up tangled the way they currently were, if not for her. Definitely her fault.
And now she had to apologize for taking advantage of his caring nature and somehow get them back to before they’d had sex.
Except she still hadn’t found solid ground after last weekend’s intimate encounter, adding this one, she had to admit she was sending signals she shouldn’t.
There was no way she was ready for another relationship.
Despite their explosive breakup, thoughts of Stuart occurred at regular intervals, like shockwaves, they rippled through her life.
Not that she still loved her ex, far from it. In hindsight, she wasn’t sure she’d ever really loved him, but he continued to have a hold over her in a way she knew she needed to move past before she could think about getting involved with another man. Even one as nice and genuine—as caring—as Rylan seemed.
It was up to her to explain where she stood. She couldn’t expect him to understand, not with the way she’d attacked him moments ago. The question was how to do it without letting him think she hadn’t enjoyed herself, hadn’t wanted him to fuck her. She was saved from saying anything when Rylan’s cock slipped from her body, and he lowered her to the floor.
“We should get cleaned up before the water goes cold,” he murmured as he spun her under the spray.
Lukewarm, the shower flowed over her. He handed her a bar of soap and stood back to let her take care of herself. The distance cooled her temp quicker than the cool water rushing over her heated skin. It was what she wanted, and yet the move made her melancholy for the closeness they’d had a minute ago.
They remained quiet. Each of them trapped in a bubble of their own making. This wasn’t the way what they had just experienced should end.
Their coming together had been glorious, a revelation in want and satisfaction the likes of which Mazey didn’t regret for a second. Ry needed to know that. Needed to know that she was grateful he’d been willing to comfort her.