Handle Me

by Kira Sinclair

  Holding the handle of the knife between his thumb and forefinger, he flipped it up into the air. Van gasped and jerked backward. Ty didn’t even flinch, but snatched the handle right out of the air.

  “Idiot.”

  He tossed her an impish grin and then dropped the knife into the sink.

  Van shifted to slip around him, irritation buzzing beneath her skin. He was such a show-off. And one of these days he was going to get himself hurt with stupid, pointless stunts like that. She dealt with people in the ER every day that were there because they thought they were bulletproof... Ty was just as wrong as every last one of them; reality just hadn’t caught up to him yet.

  Spun up in her mental tirade, Van moved at the same time Ty did. Somehow, she ended up pinned between his big, strong body and the island in the center of her kitchen.

  She gasped, the involuntary pull of air filling her lungs with the tangy, male scent of him. God, how could he smell so good after sleeping on the floor of her bathroom?

  Her hands gripped the edge of the island, which was the only thing keeping them from holding him.

  Not that it particularly mattered. Not when Ty’s hands rested on her hips, his grasp sure and possessive. His thighs, bracketed on either side of hers, pressed into her. His chest crowded her, naked and right. There. God, she wanted to run her fingertips over him. No, her tongue. To taste his skin and feel the warmth of him filling her again.

  Van’s heart fluttered and her belly flip-flopped. She closed her eyes, squeezing them tight in the hopes that the moment would just pass.

  But it didn’t.

  Instead, heat flared between them, spreading from his fingers to engulf her everywhere. Her whole body tingled.

  And she wanted him. Wanted to feel something. Everything. With him. More than she’d ever wanted anything in her life.

  Ty growled, a low, hungry sound that had her body throbbing.

  She didn’t see the kiss coming, not that it would have made a difference. It wasn’t calm and easy, hardly soft and coaxing. He didn’t try to win her over or convince her this was right.

  He just took.

  And poured passion right back into her.

  His tongue laved her lips, hard and insistent. How could she refuse? Opening to him, Van dropped her head back and gave him...everything.

  Tightening his grip on her hips, Ty boosted her into the air. For a few seconds she felt weightless, euphoric, until her rear landed on the cold granite countertop behind her.

  Her death grip dislodged, and her hands settled on his shoulders. His skin was so warm and perfect.

  “If you want me to stop you better say so now, Van.” His words brushed across her skin, his mouth a ghost of temptation at the curve of her throat.

  He was there with her, paused on the edge, waiting.

  And, God, she wanted what he was threatening her with. The emotion. The sensation. The feeling of being alive she’d missed out on for most of her life...except for that one night with him.

  Perched on the edge of her counter, Van fought the sensation of being off-kilter, his hands gripped hard around her hips the only thing preventing her from falling. But it was more, this sense of being poised either to fly or fall.

  The fall scared her, but the flight pulled her in, tempted her in a way she couldn’t say no to. Not anymore.

  Van didn’t answer him, not with words anyway. Instead, she let her fingertips skim over his skin. She traced the bold lines of the tattoos that covered his arms, shoulder and ribs. Several of them blended together, but she was too preoccupied with the man beneath the art to pay attention to what they were, what they meant. She’d ask later.

  Instead, she slipped her fingers into the waistband of his jeans and tugged him closer. The hard length of his sex settled against the throbbing heat between her thighs.

  Ty let out a trembling breath that ended on a groan. His hips surged against her, grinding into her. Electricity shot through Van’s blood, sending a cascade of sparks down her spine.

  What was it about this man that had her body responding in ways no one else had ever managed?

  He ripped her soft cotton shirt over her head, flinging it across the kitchen. There was a clatter of metal against her wooden floor. Kaia’s nails scrabbled against the floor as she scurried away from whatever had fallen.

  Van started to push him away so she could check on the dog, but the moist heat of his mouth closing around her aching breast stopped her.

  Fingers threading into his hair, she pressed him tighter against her. When had he taken her bra off? Not that it mattered. Not with the wicked edge of his tongue circling around and around, torturing her until she was breathless.

  He tugged at the zipper on her shorts, never letting up on the licking, sucking, nipping pleasure he was inflicting with his mouth.

  Lifting her up, Ty yanked her shorts and panties down her legs, letting them pool on the floor wherever they fell, then dropped to his knees between her spread thighs.

  “Savannah,” he breathed out. The way he said her name had a burst of something strong and hungry fighting through her.

  With a single word he managed to make her feel beautiful, powerful and sexy. Something her previous lovers hadn’t managed, and Ty wasn’t even trying.

  She needed her hands on him now.

  Leaning forward, she gripped his arms and tried to pull him back up to her. But he refused, shaking his head.

  Reaching for her, he spread the lips of her sex wide and practically dove inside. His tongue laved straight up her sex to torture her aching clit.

  Van let out a cry, her head dropping back even as her body began to tremble. He sucked at her, licked and teased. Thrust his tongue deep over and over again until her hips were pushing against him, seeking more.

  But it wasn’t enough.

  She could feel her body winding tighter and tighter, the need climbing higher and higher.

  Panting, she begged, “Ty, please. I need you. Now.”

  With a growl and a final swirling sweep of his tongue, Ty stood. He stared down at her, his stormy-blue eyes fierce and sharp with a desire she understood because the same stinging edge was threatening to break her if he didn’t give them both relief soon.

  “Please,” she said again.

  “Condom?”

  Why the hell hadn’t she tucked one into the pocket of her shorts? Because she’d been living in denial, pretending there was no way this was happening again.

  “Bedside table, top drawer. Hurry.”

  She didn’t have to tell him twice. Van listened to the slap of his feet against her hard floor. Even through the sound of her own labored breaths, she could hear the squeak of the drawer in her bedroom opening and closing.

  Maybe if he had been any other man, her brain might have taken those few precious moments and surfaced back to reality. Instead, the only thought running through her mind was, hurry, hurry, hurry.

  Her body hummed, not with a gentle buzz of anticipation, but with a crackling need that threatened to consume her if she didn’t find an outlet for it. Now.

  Somewhere between the hall and her bedroom, Ty had lost his jeans. Pretty as you please, the man walked back into her kitchen buck naked, with his impressive erection curving long and proud.

  She wanted her mouth on him. She wanted to feel the soft skin over hard steel wrapped tight in her palm as she drove him to make more of those deep growls and low hums.

  His gaze was trained on her, steady and predatory. Van fought the urge to squirm against his study as he stalked toward her. His body was gorgeous, all sinewy muscle covered in beautiful art.

  He hadn’t bothered shaving this morning so his cheeks were covered with stubble. A shiver snaked down her spine at the memory of it scraping against her skin. And that dimple in his ch
in...the stubble was darker there. She wanted to run her tongue through the sexy little dip.

  Pausing in front of her, his lips twisted up on one side. “Like what you see, Dr. Cantrell?”

  “Now you’re just fishing for compliments, soldier.”

  Grabbing the condom from his hand, Van tore into it and let the foil flutter down. She reached for him, pulling him closer and holding him steady so she could roll the latex over his hard shaft.

  Her own sex clenched at the first feel of him.

  Well, it wasn’t really her first feel of him. But it was her first without her brain clouded by alcohol. She remembered enough from that night four months ago, but this morning she had perfect clarity.

  Van let her hands slide up and down his cock several times. She couldn’t help herself. So, maybe she was a little greedy. At the moment, no part of her regretted it.

  Grasping her wrists, Ty ripped her hands away from him. She found her lips tipping down into a pout—something she never, ever did.

  Ty paid her back with a hard, punishing kiss that had her body melting. The strong band of his arm around her hips brought her right to the edge of the counter. Slippery fingers played at her entrance for several seconds.

  Van writhed in his arms. Whimpered. He nipped at her bottom lip, tugging it into his mouth and sucking as two fingers sank deep inside her.

  Her hips surged against him, wanting, seeking more.

  “Not enough,” she breathed out.

  Digging her heels into the backs of his thighs, Van reached between them and found him. She could feel the pulse of his heartbeat, fast and heavy, through the skin covering his erection. Felt the same relentless rhythm beating deep inside her own body.

  Spreading her thighs wide, she guided him where she wanted him and felt relief when the head of his cock nudged against her entrance.

  “Now, God, now.”

  With one quick thrust, Ty slid deep. The friction felt fabulous and perfect. Exactly what she needed, only it wasn’t enough. Not yet.

  “More.”

  “Greedy little thing,” he gritted out between clenched teeth. But gave her exactly what she wanted, pulling out and slowly thrusting back in again.

  Slow and steady at first, Ty gave her a cadence that drove her higher and higher. Pleasure flowed from him to her and back again, blazing hot and building more with each passing moment.

  Van’s own hips bucked against his, unable to stay still as she fought for each blinding moment they shared together. She needed it. Needed this. Needed him.

  Her entire body quivered, so close to an explosion she knew was going to leave her mindless, breathless, shattered. It scared her just as much as she fought for it.

  “Give it to me, Van. I’ve got you. I promise, princess.”

  His words, whispered so gently against her temple, were her undoing.

  The orgasm crashed over her like a twenty-foot wave, stealing all her oxygen and sucking her into the swirling tempest of sensation.

  All she knew was that she clung to him, the solid form of his body the only sure thing in the world at that moment.

  Her name was a muffled cry as he buried his face into the cloud of her messy hair. His own body shuddered even as his hips pistoned with several deep strokes before going still between her spread thighs.

  Their skin was damp and slick. Van’s lungs stuttered with every breath, almost like they’d forgotten how to function. She groaned a little when she shifted, the backs of her thighs rubbed raw against the stone countertop she still sat on.

  She could feel him, buried deep inside her. She was pinned in place by the heavy weight of his body.

  And that sent a curl of panic through her chest.

  Because it wasn’t just physical. She could have taken a palm and shoved him off her. Did, actually, taking in the sleepy, satisfied way Ty blinked at her through his narrowed gaze.

  She was suffocating. Needed space.

  Jumping off the counter, she scooped her shorts up off the floor, strode over to where her shirt and bra sat covered by a pile of perfectly chopped peppers and mushrooms.

  “I’m taking a shower.”

  Before he could react, Van shot into her bedroom, shut the door behind her and turned the lock for good measure.

  Dropping down into a crouch in the middle of the room, she clutched the pile of clothes to her chest and bowed her head.

  Shit.

  10

  VAN GROANED AND rolled over. It took her several seconds to realize what had pulled her from the restless sleep she’d finally fallen into.

  Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, the screen glowing bright in the dark.

  Calls this early were never good.

  Ty, her parents—if something had happened to them...

  Wide awake now, she snatched the phone up and answered in a rush. “Yes?”

  “Van, I’m so sorry to call this early.” All the fear and energy rushed out of her at the sound of her boss’s voice. Stifling another groan, Van flopped back onto the bed and squeezed her eyes shut.

  Clearly, no one she cared about had been in a horrible accident—and she wasn’t ready to contemplate why Ty had come first in the list of people to worry about—but that didn’t mean this call was going to be good. In fact, it was going to be very bad.

  “I know you’re supposed to be on vacation until the middle of next week—”

  “The first vacation time I’ve taken in two years.” Not counting the time she’d taken off for Ryan’s funeral, which definitely wasn’t a vacation.

  “I know. But a stomach virus has hit the hospital and I’m severely short-staffed. I could really use the help. Ten hours. That’s all I need. I promise.”

  This is what she got for staying home during her time off instead of slipping away to some mountain retreat. Quiet nights full of clear skies and stars so big they felt close enough to touch. Cool, crisp mountain air. Long hikes, just her and her thoughts. Van closed her eyes and could practically feel the sun warming her skin.

  “Van?”

  “What?”

  “Seriously. You know I wouldn’t call if I didn’t really need you.”

  With a sigh, she pushed up from the bed. Tina was a damn good chief of staff for the hospital. She’d been a friend and mentor long before she’d become her boss. And Tina was right; she knew how much Van had needed a break from the hospital, from her life, from all the pain and grief of the last few months. She wouldn’t have called if she had another option.

  “Fine. I’ll be there in an hour. But I don’t care what’s going on, when that clock hits six p.m. I’m out the door. You better start figuring out which sucker you’re going to call in for the evening shift.”

  Tina chuckled. “That sucker’s already lined up.”

  “Perfect.”

  Rolling out of bed, Van fell into her normal routine. Maybe it was a good thing she was going in. Several hours of high-pressured work would at least keep her brain from spinning back to amazing kitchen-counter sex.

  And how much she really wanted to do it again.

  Even if that would be the stupidest move she’d ever made.

  Or maybe the stupidest move she’d ever made was letting Ty Colson spend the night on her bathroom floor in the first place.

  Memories assaulted her, revving her body and making parts of it throb with banked need. Their first time together had left fuzzy impressions. Good ones that had tortured her in her dreams.

  But yesterday...without the numbing edge of alcohol every last detail of her romp with Ty was etched into her brain. God, the man approached sex just like everything else in his life—full throttle.

  Ty was reckless and always had been. She couldn’t handle reckless. Not and keep her sanity intact.

 
It was so tempting, though, like that college friend offering a smoldering joint in the middle of a party and promising you one hit won’t ruin your life. Maybe not, but the likelihood was one hit would never be enough.

  She already knew that adage was true of Ty. One night with him would never be enough. But she couldn’t have more.

  Couldn’t allow herself to have more.

  The problem was, she could see herself so easily falling for the man. Hell, she was already half in love with him and had been since she was a little girl. The guy was larger than life. People were drawn to his charm, brash personality and the sense of honor that he wore like a badge.

  But letting herself go there would only end in heartache. At the end of the day, Ty would leave. And not just leave, but go back to a place so dangerous people came home in body bags.

  She confronted death every day. Waged war against it, and thankfully won, more times than not. But she was realistic enough to understand that no doctor—not even the best-trained ones—could save everyone. Hell, her brother was the perfect example of that. Dead probably before his body hit the ground.

  In the ER, she swooped in, patched them up and sent them on to their next destination. She spent minutes with her patients, never enough time to really connect with them.

  Not that she particularly minded. In fact in her opinion, that disconnect made her better at her job. It allowed her to look past emotions to what would save a life. She didn’t agonize over her decisions; she rarely had the luxury of that kind of time. Not in those life-or-death moments.

  So what was it about Ty Colson that had her agonizing over everything?

  At least work would provide a distraction.

  In fact, walking into the chaos, it was clear she wouldn’t have time for much of anything except focusing on the patients in front of her. No phone calls or texts in a moment of weakness. No wondering what he was doing or whether he was thinking about her and what they’d done.

  Nope, just blood, crisis and the adrenaline that spiked during those moments.

  Stowing her stuff, she walked onto the floor and grabbed the chart for her first patient.

  Twelve hours later, she realized the plan had worked. She’d stayed long past her shift, unable to leave when the ER was slammed and understaffed. And hadn’t thought of Ty once. But her body ached, her eyes were gritty from her restless night before and her stomach grumbled since she hadn’t had time to eat.