by Cate Ashwood
“You got too many clothes on,” I managed, tugging at his shirt, trying to get it up over his head. He’d been in my room all of two goddamn minutes, and if he wasn’t fucking me inside the next two, I thought I might actually die.
He pushed himself up, tearing his shirt off, then unbuttoning his pants and undoing his zipper. They gaped open and I could see the ridge of his erection through the soft fabric of his boxer briefs. It made my dick throb. I was so fucking desperate for him. I reached out, but he was quicker than me, wrapping his hands around my legs, shoving my knees back and kneeling between my thighs.
His tongue was at my hole before I could blink, and I cried out, my voice already hoarse and we’d barely gotten started. My cock leaked against my stomach, and I fisted my hands in the sheets to keep them from yanking his hair. Gage’s mouth was hotter than sin when he was kissing me, but when that attention was focused on my ass… I had to force air into my lungs to keep from passing out.
“Please,” I begged.
He pulled back to look at me. His eyes dark and intense, they locked with mine as he slid two fingers into his mouth and then, without a second of hesitation, into me. A moan tore from my throat as I arched into the intrusion, wanting him deeper. He stroked inside me, his fingers rubbing against my most tender spot as he reached forward with his other hand to grip my erection. He pumped me roughly, tearing a string of moans and incoherent babble from somewhere deep inside me.
I let my head fall to the side, let my eyes fall closed. If I looked at him any longer, if I watched the way his gaze narrowed in on me, watched the motion of his hand stroking up and down, I was going to come. He pulled his hands away and my eyes shot open.
“Don’t move,” he said, and images of the first time we’d been together came flooding back. I knew what was coming next. I remembered the things he’d done to my body, the way he’d completely owned me from the inside out. I bit my lip to keep from begging and waited with the least patience I’d ever possessed as he slipped the condom on and lubed himself up.
My body clenched in anticipation, my muscles strung tighter than a bow.
His pants were pushed down over his hips, and I felt the scrape of fabric against my ass as he pushed all the way inside me until his hips rested against me. He dropped to his elbows over me, his forehead against mine as he began to move.
There was nothing tentative or slow about it. He fucked me hard. I bucked my hips, meeting him thrust for thrust.
“Harder,” I gasped, my fingers digging into his ribs as I held on. The sounds of flesh colliding mixed with our ragged breaths and labored panting. The entire world rushed away, and Gage and I were the center of the whole goddamn universe. All there was, was him and me and the way my body responded to everything he did. Each change in angle, rhythm, power, I met him stroke for stroke, like I’d been born for this.
Nothing had ever felt this good. No one had ever made me this completely fucking mindless with pleasure, and when Gage fisted my cock, all it took was three seconds to make me come. I fell apart, and slick heat spilled between us, coating my stomach and his chest. His hips drove forward, and he buried himself in me as far as he could go as he followed me over the edge.
We were both breathing hard, the few minutes of exertion sapping our energy completely.
After a moment, he kissed me softly, the sudden display of tenderness almost too much as he pulled out and collapsed onto the bed next to me.
I stared at the ceiling, my arm flung above my head, trying to catch my breath and wondering what the hell happened now. This was uncharted territory, uneven ground, and I wasn’t sure what the hell was going to happen next.
Minutes passed, and I expected Gage to get up, pull his shirt back on, and walk out, but instead, he wriggled out of his pants, tossed the condom in the garbage, and crawled under the covers.
“You’re staying?” I asked, my mouth moving before my brain could intervene.
He turned his head to look at me, his sweat-soaked hair plastered to his forehead. “You want me to go?”
“No, I… I didn’t think… No. You can stay.”
He nodded once, like that was the answer he’d been waiting for, then pulled me into his arms.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The clock was ticking closer and closer to 5:00 a.m. and I needed to get going, but Christ, I did not want to move. The prospect of leaving this hotel room, dreary as it was, leaving Holden, didn’t sit well with me.
The night before I’d thought about pretending he’d left after all. I thought about going home—in fact, I’d gotten about halfway there before I turned around and drove back into town. I hadn’t planned on fucking him again. I hadn’t planned on seeing him at all, but when I’d been standing there outside his hotel room door, pounding on the wood like I’d break it down if he didn’t let me in, all reason had fled.
I shouldn’t still want him, but I did. I shouldn’t have pursued him, but I did.
Against all logic, I’d become completely addicted to him. In the span of less than a week, everything had changed. My initial impression of him had been tainted by his name. Looking past that, I could see who he was. And I liked that guy. A lot. If circumstances were different, maybe there could be something there worth exploring, but ultimately, it didn’t matter. Ultimately, he was getting on that plane and I’d never see him again.
The thought of it made me feel slightly uncomfortable, but I shrugged it off. There was no point in examining my feelings too closely. Tomorrow they wouldn’t matter. For now he was here, and the sex was some of the hottest I’d had. His body was amazing. The things he did to me made my brain explode. I couldn’t get enough of him, and for the next twenty-four hours, I planned to get as much as I could.
I pulled him closer, nuzzling against him and pressing a kiss to the side of his neck. He fit against me so well, like he was supposed to be there. “I gotta go soon,” I said reluctantly.
“Already? The sun won’t be up for hours.”
“I gotta work.”
He turned in my arms and kissed me.
“I’m off at six tonight. Meet me for dinner after?”
“Really?” He sounded surprised.
“Yeah. I’m gonna feed you so you’ll have enough energy to make it through everything I have planned for you later.”
“You’re serious.”
“Mm-hmm.” I hummed against his bare shoulder and felt him shift closer. “You’re leaving tomorrow, but there’s no reason why we shouldn’t spend tonight together. If you want to anyway.”
“Well, yeah, but I didn’t think…”
“It’s just sex, Holden.”
“I know that.”
But he sounded a little indignant, and I felt like a dick for pointing that out. It wasn’t like either of us could have developed stronger feelings than the overwhelming lust I experienced whenever I was around him. Given more time, maybe, but the expiration date on Holden’s stay in Sawyer’s Ferry killed any chance of that.
Which was fine. I’d never been into the sex-without-strings thing, but now that I was dipping my toes in that particular pool, I had to admit I’d been missing out for way too long.
I moved, pulling him under me and kissing him again. God, he felt good, and he was making it hard to summon the willpower to get out of bed. I broke the kiss and rolled off him with a displeased grunt and stood, making sure the blankets covered him as I did. It was fucking cold in that room, and I was glad he wouldn’t be spending another night here.
“I’ll be by just after six to get you. Pack your stuff. You won’t be back.”
I hadn’t put my truck in park yet when my pager sounded. Once glance at the 911 message on the screen had me slogging through the unplowed parking lot faster than usual. I beelined for the emergency room, pulling my outer gear off as I did.
“Ambulances are ten minutes out,” Dawn shouted as I rounded the corner, her voice carrying over the usual din of the ER, a pitch of panic in her voice.
Guess I didn’t have time to change into new scrubs.
“Ambulances? Multiple?”
She nodded, looking more shaken than I’d ever seen her. “Part of the roof collapsed on the arena during this morning’s hockey practice. Six casualties.”
“Kids?” My mind went to the worst possible scenario.
“No. The kids were all in the changeroom. Sounds like it was just the parents in the stands. So far everyone is alive, but paramedics are reporting varied vitals in the field.”
That arena had been in need of a new roof since long before I’d arrived in Alaska. The building had been the old high school gym and was converted when the high school had been bulldozed to make room for a care home. But that had probably been more than a decade ago, and with the amount of snow that had fallen in the previous twenty-four hours, it was a wonder the entire thing hadn’t caved in.
“Have you already contacted ARH?”
“They’re on standby.”
“Good. Update them as soon as we have more information. We may need multiple medevacs.” I hoped to God the choppers were able to take off and land, despite the winds. Things had died down a little, but there were still occasional heavy gusts. They could withstand heavier winds than the tiny aircraft taking off out of our airport, but if Holden was grounded, there was a slight chance they would be too.
I glanced around the room, taking stock of the number of staff on shift. We’d need more. “Logan in the building?”
“I paged him when I paged you.”
“Good. And Dr. Alston?”
“Her too, but I haven’t heard anything yet. She and Dr. Baker are both off today… so I dunno if they’ll see—”
“Logan will. He never takes his pager off. Pretty sure he showers with the damn thing.”
“Good. He’ll be here, then.”
I wondered if she was trying to reassure herself as much as me. I thanked her and moved to the trauma bay, hoping to God it was well equipped enough to save everyone.
I doubted the hospital had ever received a mass casualty like this before. We did see our share of traumas every so often, but six at once would be a challenge.
Five minutes had passed, and as the clock ticked down, the more intense the air in the emergency room became. All the nurses on staff in the ER were now standing by, dressed in gowns and gloved up.
And then all hell broke loose.
Both our ambulances pulled up at once, Shaun and Leslie jumping out of the back. I could see the drivers of both vehicles—one was the man who owned the hardware store, and the other was one of the moms who coached soccer over at the elementary school.
“Where are your partners?” I asked as I helped Leslie offload the stretcher.
“Had to stay back at the arena. Everyone’s in rough shape, and we can only transport one at a time, so Deb and Shane volunteered to drive so they could stay in the field to treat the patients left behind.”
“Shit. Right. Okay, Dawn, let’s get these patients transferred to beds immediately so these guys can clear.”
On the count of three, we lifted the patients off the paramedics’ cots and onto our beds, and Jesus Christ. There was so much blood, so much damage. I hadn’t seen anything this bad since the time someone drove their SUV through the front of a souvenir shop in Times Square and mowed down fifteen tourists in one go.
I knew I couldn’t manage both patients on my own, and there were four more coming.
“Where the hell is Logan?” I shouted, holding pressure on a wound that was hemorrhaging harder by the minute.
“He’s not answering his pages,” Dawn said, her voice ragged with stress.
“Well, page him again! What’s the ETA on medevac?”
“They’re on hold. Winds are too strong for them to land. Gotta wait for it to die down.”
“Shit. Okay. We’re on our own.” I snapped into trauma mode and began barking orders like a drill sergeant. Dawn, Nadia, and Craig did their best to keep up with my demands, and we’d almost gotten the situation under control when the ambulances pulled up once more.
This time, when Shaun pulled the stretcher from the back, I watched as Dawn’s face went white.
“Tell me that’s not Diana,” I said, staring down at the unconscious body of Dr. Alston. Her abdomen was distended, and she was pale and diaphoretic. “Goddammit.”
Limited equipment. One OR. One surgeon. Six patients. Without a third surgeon, even if Logan got here, the statistics staring me in the face were dismal. The nurses and medics were doing what they could to sustain life, but without a surgical team, the outlook was grim.
“Dawn. Remember Dr. Prescott from the other day?”
“The med seeker?”
“Yeah, that guy.” I didn’t have time to set her straight, and shit, I didn’t have his number, either… We were gonna have to do this the old-school way. “He’s staying at the inn. Send someone to go get him. Someone without medical training. Room two. Go!”
She dashed away without asking another question, and for a moment, I felt a glimmer of hope. It wasn’t an ideal solution, but it was the only one I had.
I packed and bandaged the patients as best I could, and somewhere between the tourniquets and trauma dressings, two other doctors arrived. Gary and John were both family practice docs, but at that point, I was willing to let them into the OR if I had to.
The third wave of patients arrived, and even with all the help we had, the ER had officially erupted into chaos. People were panicked, and the families of the victims had started to show up, needing answers about the condition of their loved ones. Craig was trying to hold them back, to keep them contained in the waiting area, but there were patients parked in the hallways and blood everywhere.
“This is bad. This is really bad,” Nadia kept repeating over and over.
“Nadia, you’ve gotta pull it together. We triage and treat in order of severity. Trauma basics 101.”
She swallowed hard but nodded. She was going to need a day off when this was done.
It took less than ten minutes for Holden to arrive, rushing in through the ambulance bay doors, two steps behind our security guard. I felt a swell of relief at the sight of him, though he looked like he had just woken up and was ready to hurl.
“Holden, we’ve got six patients and not a lot of time. I need you to gown up and scrub in. There’s one OR. They’re prepping Diana there now. She has a lacerated spleen, and I’m not sure if that’s the extent. The imaging equipment we have here isn’t the best, so you might have to troubleshoot once you’re in there.”
“Can’t you do it?” Holden asked, looking at me like I was completely insane.
“No. There are too many patients for me to manage on my own. I’m going to have to stay here and turn the trauma bay into OR two. Go. Now!”
“I can’t,” Holden said, his eyes wide as he shook his head. “I’m not licensed here. And I’m not a trauma surgeon.”
“But you’ve done a splenic repair before. You’ve passed your boards, and you’re a licensed surgeon in New York, right?” I wanted to climb across the table and shake him.
“Yeah, but, I can’t operate here. My license is for New York.”
“If you don’t, someone is going to die. So choose. Who do I help?”
He stared at me, his eyes going even wider.
“Well?” I demanded.
“Show me where you need me.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
This wasn’t like any OR I’d ever operated in. The building and everything in it was older than I was used to. The equipment was functional but didn’t have all the bells and whistles of the stuff we had at the Westbridge clinic.
Luckily, a scalpel is a scalpel anywhere you go.
“Ten blade, please.”
The nurse handed it to me and I held the familiar weight of it in my hand.
It had been too long since I’d repaired a splenic laceration. I stood, staring down at the abdomen in front of me. The only sound in the OR
was the beeping of the machine and the sound of the patient’s ventilations. All eyes were on me, this unknown surgeon who had no business being in this OR. I could feel the apprehension, but also the hope. I was the only one who could save her. My half second of doubt dissolved away as I stared down at the person on the table in front of me.
I took one fortifying breath, then cut.
The amount of blood that poured from the abdomen was staggering. “We’re gonna need two more units now, and let the blood bank know we’re likely going to call down for more.”
I retracted the incision over the operative field. The bleeding was profuse. I soaked as much as I could with lap pads and suction to get a better look.
“Grade three?” one of the nurses asked hopefully.
“Four. Sutures wouldn’t hold and even if they did, there’s too much devascularization. I’ll have to do a complete splenectomy to get control of the hemorrhage.”
It wasn’t the ideal fix, especially considering it might leave the patient with a somewhat impaired immune response, but diminished immunity was better than being dead. It was the only way to stop the bleeding, and she’d already lost so much. Between her and the five other patients, we’d pretty much cleared out the hospital’s blood supply. I had no idea how the other five were faring, and I couldn’t think about that now, not with the amount of work ahead of me.
“Dr. Prescott,” said the nurse to my left, “pressure’s still dropping.”
I picked up the pace, my fingertips moving without conscious thought as I divided the splenic attachments, separated it from the pancreas, and removed it. Once the last of the vessels were ligated, I set down my instruments. It had all happened so quickly, and as I closed, the patient’s pressures leveled out. I exhaled, relief pouring off me as I knotted the last of the sutures and the operating room doors slid open.
Logan stepped in holding a mask over his face. “You’re done?” he asked with surprise.