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Authors: Patrice Wilton

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BOOK: Handle With Care
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“You sure did, slugger.” Shane grinned at Lauren. “See you in a couple of hours.”

She blew him a kiss. “Thanks for today. It was fun.”

Once Shane left, she bathed Josh and fed him dinner. When Julie arrived, she took her shower and got dressed for the evening. She wondered where Shane would take her for their first date. They could grab fast food for all she cared. Being with him was what mattered.

She liked him more than she should. For all his warnings, and all her misgivings, she wanted him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

H
e showed up in a navy blue suit, white shirt, and flashy tie, and looked so darn handsome, Lauren’s knees went weak. To keep herself from melting into a puddle at his feet, she backed up, holding onto the back of the couch for support.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, looking worried. “Are you okay?”

“I felt faint all of a sudden. Must be low blood sugar. I’m probably hungry after all that exercise today.”

He grinned. “Good, because I’m taking you someplace special tonight.”

“Can I ask where?”

“No, you can’t. But trust me, you’re dressed perfect.”

She had selected a soft yellow silk dress that gave a hint of cleavage, had a fitted waist, and flared below the hip. It was one of the few designer dresses she owned. Lauren rarely bought dressy clothes because she had no use for them, but she’d needed something for a friend’s wedding. The moment she’d seen the dress, she’d known she had to buy it.

Now she was glad she had.

After a quick good night to Julie and Josh, she followed Shane to his car. He drove a late model Toyota hybrid, which she was coming to learn was typical of him. He didn’t just want to save lives; he wanted to save the world.

They chatted during the drive along the Pacific coastline, until he pulled up in front of the historic Breakers at the Long Beach Hotel.

“The Sky Room?” she asked in surprise. The Sky Room was considered the most romantic dining room in Southern California.

Two valets appeared and opened both the driver’s and the passenger’s doors. She stepped out and Shane took her hand.

“Do you approve?” he asked, grinning.

“Most definitely.” She hugged his arm. “But I would be just as happy at McDonald’s with you.”

He laughed. “Next time, I’ll remember that.”

She gave him a warm smile. “I was here once, a few years ago. It was a twenty-fifth anniversary party for one of the doctors I work with.”

“Nice place to celebrate.” He linked her hand in the crook of his arm. “Since I’ve never been through the doors, you can lead the way.”

They rode the elevator to the top floor. It was eight o’clock on a Sunday night, and they had no trouble being seated. When Shane slipped something into the maître d’s hand, they were given a window table that overlooked the Pacific Ocean and the city skyline.

A wonderful quintet played easy listening music and pop tunes, and between the salad and their main course, she led him onto the dance floor. He guided her into his arms, and she fell into step, moving against him as if they’d been dance partners most of their lives.

They lingered over their dinner, enjoying their conversation and the view. Once they’d finished eating and the waiters had cleared they plates, they danced some more.

He whispered in her ear, “I thought I might take you somewhere else for dessert, unless you’d rather stay here.”

“I’m open for suggestions.” She tilted her head back and gazed into his eyes. “What did you have in mind?”

“Key lime pie at my place.”

“There’s an offer I can’t refuse.”

He gave her a serious look. “You can if you want to.”

“I don’t want to.”

He tugged her tight against him, and she felt his heart hammering along with her own.

“I hope I don’t disappoint you,” he murmured.

“You can’t. No matter what happens, I won’t be disappointed.”

“You say that, but what if?”

She could see the fear in his eyes, the tight set of his jaw, and hastened to reassure him. “I don’t care about what if.” She nuzzled his neck. “I just want to be alone with you.”

They retrieved his car and drove back to his apartment, with hardly a word spoken between them. Lauren knew a lot was at stake. If this turned into a disaster, their comfortable relationship would suffer, and he might not want to see Josh anymore.

She should put a stop to it, but it was already too late. Besides, every inch of her hungered for his touch, and she was pretty sure he felt the same. He needed her as much as she needed him.

Lauren understood his fear of being a failure in the bedroom, but she’d make sure he wasn’t. And if it didn’t happen, that was fine too. But he needed to get back on the horse, so to speak, and she was more than happy to accompany him.

She giggled and looked out the window.

“What are you laughing at?” he asked.

“I had a funny thought, not worth sharing.” She turned to him and stroked his cheek. “I had a wonderful time tonight, and I’m glad you invited me back to your place. I’d like to see where you live.”

“Well, it’s not really mine. I’m just minding it for a friend.” He told her about Brent, and how he had agreed to take over the rent until Brent returned from Afghanistan.

He seemed relaxed talking about his friend, so she asked questions and learned more in the next ten minutes than she had in the past two months. She heard in vivid detail about his months of being homeless, how he’d bottomed out in a bottle, and that Brent’s brother Jake had found him sleeping in a car and had turned his life around.

“I’d like to meet your friends one day.”

“I hope you can.”

He parked in the underground lot, and then they rode the elevator. Lauren fought back the butterflies in her stomach the whole way.

It would all work out. It had to.

She walked into the apartment, noticing that everything looked new and nice, as well as spotlessly clean, as though no one lived there. The furniture consisted of a black leather couch and recliner, set around a large square coffee table, facing an enormous plasma TV hanging on a wall. Bookshelves lined one wall, and some potted silk plants filled up the corners.

A wicker table with four chairs separated the living room from the kitchen, along with a granite counter with two bar stools.

It was a very nice bachelor pad, but lacked a woman’s touch—no carpets or window treatments or pictures to brighten the walls.

She walked around, nodding with approval. “Very nice,” she said, and then opened the balcony doors to step outside. A lovely sea breeze was blowing. She stood at the railing, enjoying the partial ocean view, trying to calm her nerves.

He touched her arm, and she turned to face him. “It’s such a beautiful night,” she said. “I’ve had a wonderful time.”

“It’s not over yet.”

She laughed. “Oh, I know that, but I wanted you to know how much I appreciated the dinner and dancing and … well, you being you.”

He put his hands against her back, and only a scant space separated their bodies. “I don’t want your appreciation.” He bent his head and kissed her lips. “I’m not sure what I want, but it’s a lot more than that.”

“I know it’s complicated between us, but does it matter?” She ran a finger over his mouth. “I do want you, Shane. Even for just the night. Let’s leave it at that.”

“That’s not enough for a woman like you.”

“We’re only getting to know each other. Two months isn’t long, and we have the rest of our lives to make decisions. Besides, I don’t want either of us to make promises we can’t keep.”

His eyes glowed darkly, and the intensity behind his gaze made her knees weak.

“Kiss me,” she whispered. “Really kiss me.”

He didn’t need any more encouragement than that. He cupped her face and captured her mouth in a searing kiss that left no doubt that he wanted her too.

She slid against him, her entire body seeking his warmth. Her hands were behind his head, holding him so she could drink her fill. Too much time had gone by without someone to kiss, someone to love, and every part of her hungered for that connection.

Her pulse raced, and she squirmed with impatience. It had never been one of her strong suits. As an ER doctor, she lived life in the fast lane, making quick decisions, rushing from one catastrophe to another. She had learned to talk fast, walk fast, eat fast, and now wanted to love fast.

She broke away from his mouth long enough to ask, “Bedroom or living room?”

“For what?” His mouth found her neck and stayed to graze, then moved on to her earlobes.

She shivered. “You know. Making love.”

“I thought we were.” His hand cupped her breast, and she moaned in pleasure.

“Oh yes, that feels good.” She moved her hips against his.

He didn’t take the hint. His hand moved away, and his mouth regained possession of hers. Deep, soulful kisses, while his tongue swept in and plundered her mouth.

Her muscles relaxed, and she felt weightless, as though she were floating in deep water. “Your kisses are intoxicating,” she murmured. “I want more.”

“You can have as many as you want.” He held her up or she would have slid down the rail. “Do you want to go inside?”

She nodded and took his hand. “I thought you’d never ask.”

He guided her to the couch, where she fell back against the armrest, her entire body limp and waiting for him.

Finding a narrow space next to her, he resumed the passionate kissing until the yearning inside overwhelmed her. She pushed his chest, making him sit up. “Do you, by any chance, have a bed?”

He laughed. “I knew you were bossy, but who’s running this show?”

“I am.” She pulled his tie free and started unbuttoning his shirt. “I want to see you, and feel you. Take your clothes off.”

“Not until you do.” He sat there, grinning at her, not doing anything to help.

Her fingers stopped their downward path, then resumed. “Don’t think for a moment that that’s going to stop me.”

She had his shirt open and his chest exposed. She sucked in a breath. “You are so beautiful.” She ran her hands up and down his chest, marveling at the feel of his soft skin and hard muscles, the strength and core of him. She kissed his chest, his stomach, noticing a few scars where obviously he’d been beaten. She kissed them tenderly, running her finger over them lightly.

She didn’t want to talk about his time in the desert. Not tonight. Another time, she’d ask him all that she needed to know.

Her hands inched lower to his crotch, and she found him hard and waiting. He groaned, and she smiled.

“Lauren … stop doing that or this will be a wasted night.”

She gave a wicked laugh. “No staying power, huh?”

“Give it a break. Hasn’t seen action in years.”

“Poor thing.” She quickly unzipped his fly. “He needs to come out to play.”

“Lauren.” His voice was strangled, his expression a mix of anxiety and desire. “Dammit. You know this isn’t easy for me.”

“Relax. Let me do all the work. Just sit back and enjoy.” She pushed him back down on the cushions and got off the couch to remove his shoes. She pulled his pants down his legs and folded them on the coffee table.

“Only one thing left to go,” she said with a playful smile.

“You need to get out of that dress.” His eyes were like hot coals as they raked over her. “I can’t be the only one naked around here.”

“Oh. All right.” She turned around so he could unzip her, then stood and let the dress fall.

“My God, Lauren. You look even better out of your clothes then you do in them.”

She laughed. “I could say the same for you.”

His gaze roamed over her slowly, and the heat in her body soared to a scorching temperature. Surprisingly enough, she was not embarrassed standing half-undressed in front of him. She was aroused, confident, enjoying her moment of power.

“Glad you like what you see.” She straddled him and began kissing him again. Her lace panties rubbed against his boxers, and underneath the silk she could feel him pulse, every hard male inch of him.

“I want you now.” She took hold of his cock and got rid of his boxers. Her mouth got him wet and ready, then she handed him a condom. “Look what I found in your pocket.”

He used his teeth to open it, and while he was busy with that she removed her panties, tossed off her bra, and slid on top.

“Just go with it,” she whispered.

And he did.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

S
hane had never met a lady like Lauren. He didn’t even mind her being so bossy. Not when she was torturing him so sweetly with her mouth, sliding her tongue along his shaft, teasing, tasting, coaxing him to the edge of ecstasy, then backing off in the nick of time.

He wondered where she learned such tricks.

When she tossed off her bra and panties, he’d expected her to move things to the bedroom, but she’d planted herself on top of him, as natural as if she’d been there before.

He’d slid inside of her, his erection as strong as it had ever been. He’d filled all her empty places, and she’d moaned with pleasure. That little moan, the shudder that ran through her body was almost more than he could bear. Burying his head in her gorgeous, full breasts, he’d ached with desire, want, need. Like a feast for a starving man, he couldn’t get enough. His mouth captured a nipple while his one good hand played with the other.

He still wore his prosthetic, and he was sure that Lauren had planned it that way. His stump didn’t mean a damn thing to her, but she didn’t want the night to be ruined with his thinking about it.

She arched her back, giving him better access to her breasts, and he took his time pleasing her, while she rocked gently over him, a soft smile on her pretty face.

Finally, he’d had enough and flipped her over, wanting to taste the core of her. She’d cried out his name but he didn’t let go. He let his tongue run over her sweet spot until she bucked and yelped, and then did it again. When she began to squirm he slid back inside, then gently slid out, giving her a little more with every thrust.

His heart raced, and both of them were gasping for air. Finally, with one last thrust he felt her shudder, and gave in to his own release, a release so strong it rolled over him in wave upon wave, and nothing had ever felt quite so sweet.

She lay panting beneath him. “You okay?” he asked, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

She smiled. “Uh-huh. And you?”

“Couldn’t be better.” He grinned too, feeling young, happy, and more than content. Having made love successfully made his heart swell with relief.

She shifted onto her side and stroked his cheek. “That was great, Shane. You are such an amazing man in so many ways.”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “I still need a lot of practice. We may have to do it again, and again.”

Her eyes twinkled. “What? Tonight? I don’t think so. I’m going to be sore all over tomorrow.”

“Was I too rough?” He kissed her shoulders, and her breasts. “I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

“No, but you did give me a nice razor burn.” She grinned. “In certain places.”

His hand stroked her inner thigh. “Here?”

“Uh-huh. Thighs, breasts, I feel like a chicken that just got pummeled.”

He laughed. “You have no romance in your soul.”

“I do too. But I want you to kiss them better.”

“Happy to.” He dropped gentle kisses between her thighs, along her tummy, and up to her breasts. “Is that better?”

“Yes.” She closed her eyes, and sighed with pleasure. “Much better.”

He kept kissing. Then he had an idea. “Hey, you want to go to bed?”

“I’d love to, but I really should get home and let Julie leave. If I’m not there in the morning, Josh will be upset.”

“I’ll be upset if you’re not here in the morning too.” He kissed her brow. “But maybe another time.”

She stood up, unashamed of her nudity. “I’d like that, Shane. But we need to take this slow, and not let Josh know how we feel.”

“Agreed.” He stood up too. “I’ll take a quick shower, then I’ll drive you home.”

Later, when he returned from dropping her home, he couldn’t wipe the grin off his face, knowing he’d performed better than expected. He’d been good, perhaps even great if her moans of pleasure and release meant anything. He’d have enjoyed a second go-round just to be sure, but he understood her need to get home.

The high he was on was slipping fast, and the memory of their love making now made him feel more alone than ever. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep, so he got out his books, intending to study. His concentration was shot, his brain fuzzy. Emotions ran rampant, both elated and frustrated, and he wanted things he couldn’t have.

Lauren took a bath before she went to bed, her body more relaxed than it had been for years. The sex was good, bordering on spectacular, and even now, lying alone in her bed, parts of her hummed with awareness.

A girl could get used to this. It would be easy to fall into a routine of slipping over to Shane’s for a few hours of R&R, keeping their relationship where it most likely should stay—a sexual one, not one of the heart. And yet, wasn’t it already? She cared about him deeply, and if it wasn’t love, it was heading in that direction.

She flipped over to her side, burying her face in the pillow. Though she was tired, her mind was too active to sleep.

He was an amazing man, sensitive, caring, and so humble. It would be all too easy to fall for him. Big time. She never did anything halfway—she was an all-or-nothing kind of girl. Her husband had been the second man she’d slept with, and the only one she’d deeply loved.

They’d met the second year of college, long before either of them entered med school. It was funny how they met—Jeremy had been dating her roommate for a few months, and she’d been hanging out with a guy who considered himself a poet. They all went to the local sports bar one night, grabbed some dinner and a few drinks, and Jeremy had been unable to take his eyes off her.

She’d made an attempt to ignore Jeremy and talk to her boyfriend, but had stolen looks at him too. It felt like a big magnet drawing them together, and they’d been unable to resist the force. Finally, her roomie seemed to notice and stormed out. The poet, Timothy, ran off after her, and Lauren had been alone with Jeremy.

They were inseparable after that. They moved into an apartment together their senior year, and had entered med school a year later. Three years after that they married, and Josh came along shortly after. It had been a love that was meant to be, and she’d never regretted it.

If only she’d waited until he got home instead of having that conversation in the car, maybe he’d be asleep beside her right now.

She could forgive herself most things, but not this. It was not just a drunk driver who had killed her husband, it was her damn mouth. She’d been rightly concerned about Josh, but she couldn’t let it go. Not for one day, or the hour-long ride home. She’d contributed to his death, and deprived Josh of his father, the only man she’d ever loved. She didn’t deserve happiness. She deserved what she got. A lifetime of loneliness.

BOOK: Handle With Care
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