[Love in New York 01.0] Lost and Found

by Elle Casey

  He pushes all the way in and then pulls out halfway before plunging once more. His speed slowly increases. I meet his thrusts with my own. My back muscles strain as I try to push myself against him, bring him deeper, closer to my center. We should probably go slow and savor the moment, but I can’t. I’m desperate to take this path with him, wherever it may lead.

  “You feel so damn good,” he says into my neck, his whole body straining to control his thrusts.

  “Oh my god, I’m so close,” I whisper, my voice sounding desperate. I am desperate. I’m stuck in a whirlwind of passion. I’ve forgotten where I am, what I planned to do, where I plan to be a minute, an hour, a week or month from now. I’m drowning in whatever it is he’s cooking and I just want to die from it.

  “I’m going to come, dammit,” he growls.

  “Me too! Me too! Don’t stop!” One of my hands breaks free from its binding and I grab onto his back, holding on for dear life.

  He yells when I scratch him. I didn’t do it on purpose, I’m just trying to survive at this point.

  Every thrust brings a grunt from deep in his gut now. I’m moaning, he’s yelling, probably the entire building is getting a free show, but I don’t care. I’m exploding from the inside and the fireworks are amazing. My tears turn to laughter. I probably sound a little unbalanced, but I don’t care. I’m living totally in the moment.

  He digs his arm under my shoulders and pulls me up to his chest as he spends his last bit of energy finding fruition. I feel cherished, desired, and then, fulfilled, as the feelings overcome my good sense and send me reeling. My heartbeat is pounding in my ears and I can hardly breathe. Nothing has ever felt so good in my entire life. I grab a handful of his hair and hang on for dear life.

  My body doesn’t stop pulsing for the longest time. His muscles go slack and he falls into me before I finish spasming all over. Together we press the mattress down and our sweat mingles. I can feel a puddle of it building on my stomach. Our bellies slide together as he moves on top of me.

  “Oh my god,” he groans.

  I can’t breathe enough to respond. Part of it is the post-orgasm shock and part of it is his nearly two hundred pounds of solid muscle.

  “Sorry. I’m crushing you.” He rolls off, pulling out at the same time.

  I reach over with my one free hand, trying to get him to come back to me. I only manage to pat his face a little before he takes my fingers and starts kissing them. I can’t stop smiling.

  “That was … amazing,” he says, still out of breath.

  “Yeah. Not bad,” I say, grinning like a fool, trying to pretend I’m not dying for air. My heart is racing out of control. I could train for marathons in this guy’s bed.

  Suddenly he’s in my face, only an inch away. “Oh, is that so? You saying you want to go again?”

  “As if you could.” I try to wipe the smile off my face, but it won’t work. I’m going to have cramps in my cheeks soon from all this happiness.

  He climbs back on top of me, bringing an already hardening friend with him. “Care to make a wager?” he asks, pushing into me a little. Our bodies slide against one another.

  Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m such a slut. I want to start all over again! I glance up at the headboard. “Take me out of this thing and maybe I can show you a thing or two.”

  His grin splits his face in two it’s so big. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

  He reaches up and unties me, and I waste no time showing him that two can play at this take-no-prisoners game.

  Chapter Seventy-Six

  EVERYTHING HAS CHANGED. WAKING UP naked with her in my arms after an entire night of earth-shattering, record-breaking sex has made me a different person. She’s different too. She’s smiling. She’s touching me, stroking my arm with her delicate fingers as the first rays of light penetrate my bedroom.

  Our bedroom.

  Just the idea of sharing my space gives me a thrill. And she’s happier than I remember her being just the day before. I like to think it’s my lovemaking that’s done this to her, the way I’ve touched her, the way I’ve made her feel. I could fly over the Towers without wings right now.

  “So,” I say, rolling over to switch off the alarm. It’s six in the morning. “Off to the market?”

  “Yep.” She stands, letting the sheet fall from her naked body. When I see the curve of her ass, I want to grab her by the wrist and yank her back in here with me.

  She’s out of my reach though as she bends over to grab my shirt and pull it on over her head. The bottom of it falls to mid-thigh. She looks just barely twenty, not the twenty-eight she claims to be.

  “You look great in my clothes.” I grin at her, my body heavy with the sexy feelings she causes to appear just by looking at me, her hair all mussed up and her makeup gone.

  “That’s good, because I think we’re going to have to share,” she says. “I have exactly two shirts and two skirts left to my name.”

  “We’ll fix that tomorrow. I’ll take you shopping.” I love the idea of spoiling her. She deserves that. I can’t understand how I’m the first guy to figure that out. Jealousy possesses me over the idea of another guy taking her out, doing things for her, treating her like a princess. That’s my job.

  “I can’t accept your charity.” She frowns at me.

  “It’s not charity. It’s a friend helping a friend.”

  Her hands play with the sides of my shirt at her legs. “That’s what we are? Friends?”

  I grab her hand and pull her to me. She falls to the bed on her stomach.

  “Friends with benefits. Roommates.”

  “Roommates who have sex,” she corrects, leaning closer to me.

  I can’t tell if she’s happy or sad about her characterization of us.

  “We are whatever you want us to be,” I say, hoping I’m not pushing her too far. Last night was so good, though, I’m willing to go just about anywhere she wants to go. We fit together like the last pieces of a puzzle. So perfect in every way, but only because we are so different.

  She kisses me quick on the nose and then pulls away, crawling backwards on her elbows. “I want to be whatever this is. This is good. But I have to go, now, so yeah.” She points to the door. “I’m off to the shower.”

  I shout out after her as she disappears from the room. “Want us to come to the market with you?”

  “No, you don’t need to! I’m good going alone!”

  I’m kind of glad she said that, because I have other plans that will be much easier to execute if I can have the afternoon to myself.

  Chapter Seventy-Seven

  I DIDN’T SELL MUCH IN the way of essential oils, but I can’t quite get myself to care very much about it. Belinda will understand. I’m in love! Or in serious like. God, I can’t believe I said the word love. I must be insane. Crazy. Definitely.

  He does make me crazy, that’s a fact. One minute I’m sure I can walk away and live my life like I did before and the next I’m picking out new carpet for his condo in my head. Is it the sex that did this to me or is it just him? I should probably have a lot more of it, so I can make an informed decision. It’s totally scientific.

  The cab drops me off at Belinda’s New Age Wonders and I unlock the door so I can put all the products just inside before leaving for my date with destiny — otherwise known as the moment I meet James’s sister for the first time and we break the news to her that I’ve moved in.

  She’s going to hate me, I know she is. What sister wouldn’t? This thing with James and me must look insane, like I’m some kind of gold digger or something. I hate that. I don’t want to be judged. I just want to be with James and find out if this is truly as real as it seems.

  I’m locking the store back up when I catch the reflection of someone in the glass door. He’s wearing a hoodie and his hand goes over his head in a flash, and then something very heavy hits me from behind.

  Pain flares in my skull, lights explode from inside my head, and then everyt
hing suddenly goes black.

  Chapter Seventy-Eight

  I CHECK MY WATCH FOR the tenth time in the last hour.

  “So, where’s this mystery guest?” my sister asks me, grinning behind her glass. She and Robinson exchange amused glances.

  “Did you scare her off already?” Robinson asks. He takes a swig of his beer and winks.

  “He’s not laughing at our jokes,” Jana says, talking to Robinson like I’m not in the room. “I think he really likes her.”

  “She should have been here by now.” I look at my watch again. A minute has passed since the last time I checked it. “The market closed down hours ago.”

  My cell phone rings. It’s the answering service that picks up calls that come into my office after hours.

  I press the green button. “Doctor Oliver.” I’m too distracted to be polite. The last thing I need right now is to deal with a patient emergency; I’m having enough of an emergency of my own.

  “Doctor Oliver, hi, it’s Amanda from the service … we’ve got a nurse from Bellevue on the phone … she says there’s someone who’s been brought in that might be one of your patients?”

  “Is she or isn’t she?” I’m truly annoyed now. Vanity is my business, but if this is a patient calling to complain that her swelling hasn’t gone down to zero just two days after a surgery, I’m going to knock some skulls. Nurses should know better than to bother me with that kind of nonsense.

  “They’re not sure. She had your business card in her purse, but they don’t seem to have her in their system there. They don’t think she was ever a patient at Bellevue. But they were thinking maybe you had her somewhere else? I don’t know. I thought I should call since it was an emergency.”

  “What kind of emergency?” My blood pressure has spiked. This can’t be what I think it is. It just can’t.

  “A mugging, I think is what they said. She’s been beat up pretty badly, according to the nurse. Is she allowed to say that? To give details? Usually they’re very hush-hush with us over the phone.”

  My heart lodges in my throat. “What’s her name?”

  “How’d you know it was a woman? Did I mention that? I must be losing my mind, because I don’t remember saying it. Anyway, the ID they found says she’s Leah Carmichael.”

  Okay. All right. No. I’m not going to scream. I’m not going to yell. I’m not even going to raise my voice. I can do this. I can remain calm while my world crumbles around me.

  “You still have them on the line?” I rake my fingers through my hair and then grab a fistful of it, pulling until the pain is unbearable. It helps keep me grounded in reality.

  Jana and Robinson see the look on my face and move in closer. All the joking around stops.

  “Sure do,” Amanda says.

  “Connect me, please.”

  Waiting for Bellevue to come on the line is torture. Time feels like it’s standing still. I never fully appreciated that expression until now. Come on, Time, move, you bastard!

  “What’s going on?” Jana asks, resting her hand on my arm.

  I can barely get the words out. “Leah’s been hurt.” I look around the condo and realize there’s nothing keeping me here now that Jana’s back from her girls’ weekend. Cassie is in good hands, and I have somewhere I definitely need to be that’s not here.

  “I have to go.” I stride over to the foyer and grab my wallet and keys off the table.

  “You want me to ride along?” Robinson yells out behind me.

  “No, stay with Jana. I’ll call you when I know something.”

  “Doctor Oliver?” the voice says on the other end of the line.

  “Yes, this is him.”

  “Hi, it’s Anna in the ER. We have a Leah …”

  “Yes, she’s mine. She’s my patient. I’m on my way.”

  “Okee dokee.”

  “Is she … how is she?” I hold my breath waiting for the elevator and her response.

  “Well, she’s pretty banged up. They’re worried about internal injuries, so she’s going in for a CT right now.”

  “I’ll be there in less than thirty.”

  “See you when you get here.”

  I disconnect and leap into the waiting elevator. Racing out of my building, I break stride only when I reach the curb where a cab is pulling up to take me to the hospital. My chest is tight and my mind is racing as we move out into traffic.

  What if she doesn’t make it? What if she … Jesus. I never told her exactly how I felt when she left this morning. What if I never get the chance? Why did I wait?

  I’m not much for praying, but I’m not going to take any chances. I close my eyes and mumble the words.

  “God, please don’t take her from me. Not yet. Please, not yet. I need to tell her. I need to tell her that I love her and I can’t live without her.”

  Chapter Seventy-Nine

  IT SMELLS IN HERE. NOT at all like Belinda’s shop. What is that odor anyway? It reminds me of … of … Mel? Does it remind me of Mel? Why do I smell like Mel? Oh, God, is my foot going to fall off?

  I open my eyes, or rather, I try to open my eyes. One of them is kind of stuck closed, so I just open the one I can. I find myself looking at a ceiling tile with hundreds of tiny holes in it. This isn’t James’s apartment. What am I doing sleeping in an office building?

  My one eyeball roams around.

  Oh.

  This isn’t an office. It’s a hospital.

  And there are people in it.

  And my head hurts. And my arm too.

  Holy crap. Is it broken?

  I recognize three of the four people in the room. They’re all staring at me.

  “She’s awake,” says a woman holding Cassie. My brain tells me she has to be James’s sister. They have the same coloring and their noses are similar.

  A movement out of the corner of my one good eye catches my attention. James is there, his eyes red and swollen.

  “Hey,” I whisper. It’s the best I can do. Not only am I in pain, but seeing him there makes me suddenly feel like curling into a ball and crying. I want him to wrap his arms around me and make all this bad stuff go away.

  “Hey,” he whispers back, taking my fingers in his.

  “I think I broke something,” I say.

  Everyone in the room laughs.

  “You have a fractured ulna, a contusion above your right eye, and hemorrhaging in your spleen that necessitated its extraction.”

  My eyeball rolls up into my head and I sigh. “Whatever that meant.”

  Everyone laughs again. I’m thinking when I get out of here maybe I can find a job as a comedian. Ha, ha, I’m so funny when I’m dying.

  James’s sister walks over closer to the bed. I turn my head to see her better. “Hi there. I’m Jana, James’s sister.”

  I blink to acknowledge her. I’m suddenly pretty tired. Keeping one eye open is exhausting business.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” she says. “Sorry it had to be under these circumstances.” Her eyes go a little watery and Robinson steps up next to her, draping his arm over her shoulders.

  “When you’re on your feet again, we’ll have drinks together,” he says.

  “Yeah, I guess I missed out on that, didn’t I?” My words slur together, try as I might to enunciate. Great impression I’m making here. So proud. Crazy drunk victim me.

  James speaks up. “If you’re feeling up to it, there’s a police officer outside who wants to talk to you again.”

  “Again?” I’m confused.

  “Yes. You spoke to them when you first arrived. Before your surgery. Do you remember?”

  “Surgery?” None of this is making sense. My head is spinning. Why is James looking so sad? Why was he crying? “Am I going to die?”

  His voice comes out rough as he squeezes my fingers hard. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

  That’s the last thing I remember hearing before the room goes black again.

  Chapter Eighty

  I PU
SH OPEN THE DOOR to the man’s room, inhaling the scent of topical antibiotic and post-surgical interventions common with people who have limbs removed. I remind myself once more before going all the way inside that I can’t push this guy too hard; he’s already been through a lot. But if he has information about Leah and maybe whoever it is who attacked her, I want to know about it. It seems like a long shot, but she was here visiting him, and she told me she has no family. I don’t like all the mystery, so while Leah sleeps, I’m going to put some of it to rest.

  “Who’re you?” asks the man from the hospital bed. He needs a shave. Thick gray beard stubble covers every inch of his face from just below his cheekbones to the bottom of his neck.

  “My name is Doctor … James Oliver. I’m a physician, but I’m not treating you.” I stop a couple feet from his bedside.

  “What are you doing here then if you’re not treating me?”

  “I came to tell you that a friend of yours is in the hospital. Thought you might like to pay her a visit.”

  “A friend? Who?” The grizzled man frowns at me.

  “Leah Carmichael.” I wait to see his reaction, and he doesn’t disappoint.

  “Leah? What’s wrong with Leah?” He sits up straighter in bed, wincing at the pain it causes him.

  “She was attacked. Outside her place of employment.”

  The man throws his covers back and swings his one good leg over. The other is wrapped in gauze and missing the foot.

  I step forward to slow him down. The nurse at the station told me why he’s here. “Sir, you can’t get out of bed just yet.”

  “Like hell I can’t.” He’s putting his one remaining foot down on the ground.

  “I’ll get you a wheelchair. Stay put or I’ll call a nurse and they’ll strap you down.”

  He pauses, narrowing his gaze at me. “You’re a real ball buster, aren’t you?”

  “Only when necessary.”

  He gestures to me with a careless wave. “Who’s Leah to you? I don’t remember her mentioning a … a boyfriend or a husband.”