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I turn my head and feel his fingers sift through my locks.
I look at him with hooded eyes. “I love it when you do that. Feels so good.”
“Is that right?”
He pulls his shirt over his head. Like always, it’s a struggle not to gawk at his bare chest. I watch his hips move as he kicks his shoes off…
I love the way he moves. I always have. By the time he’s got our beach bag slung over his bare shoulder, I’m smiling. He takes my hand and leads me out onto the porch…and down the sandy stairs, out toward a tiny wooden beach shack that is only ours.
We walk together, slowly first, and then with long, hungry strides. Kellan picks me up and twirls me, and the skirt around my bathing suit flips up.
I can’t stop laughing. He unlocks the door and I nip at his back.
He turns and sinks his teeth my neck. “Get in there…” He shoves me in front of him…but he won’t let me “get.” He scoops me up and lays me on the mattress. Parts my legs and crawls between them.
“For a woman who lives on the beach, I don’t think you’re quite wet enough, my Cleo baby… I can help.” He grins and tests me with his finger. Finds my sweet spot with his tongue. “My wife…”
I grip his shoulders. “Husband.”
“Always…”
THE END
Violent Things
(Chaos & Ruin Book 1)
**** Be advised, this is an unedited excerpt, and is subject to change. ****
Sloane
You can’t tell someone not to die just because it’s Christmas Eve. I should know. I’ve tried twice already and it hasn’t worked either time. St. Peter’s has been non-stop since I started my shift thirty-six hours ago, and it doesn’t look like things are going to quiet down any time soon.
Zeth is going to kill me. I was supposed to be home nearly twelve hours ago, but the gunshot wound, alcohol poisoning and the bar fight victims have kept on rolling in. Now, Mikey the intern and I are waiting on the tarmac outside the hospital for the second road traffic accident of the night and my body is humming. It’s close to midnight. I should be exhausted, but the adrenaline that’s helped me act fast and think quick on the trauma floor has me wired.
“You think it’ll stop snowing soon?” Mikey asks. “I’m supposed to drive out to Snoqualmie Pass after this. The roads are gonna be closed at this rate.”
“Hate to break it to you, buddy, but the roads are already closed.” I slap Mikey on the back, giving him my best consolatory look. I heard them read out the list of closures on the radio at the nurses’ station earlier in the night, waiting with baited breath to see if the access road up to my own house was still open. Thankfully it is. Unlucky for Mikey, though. He’s shit out of luck.
“Ahhh fuck, man. My whole family are up there already. I’m gonna be eating baked beans on toast for Christmas dinner to bemorrow. Alone.”
“Better get used to it. Being a doctor generally means you don’t get Christmas. Or Easter. Or Thanksgiving. Or your birthday. Basically we don’t get anything.”
“Perfect.” Mikey sulks while we wait, the big fat flakes of snow falling silently all around us. It’s like we’re trapped inside a snow globe; everything is so still. That is until I see the flashing lights of the ambulance rig tearing up the road toward us.
“Here we go. Incoming.” I glance over my shoulder just as Oliver Massey runs out of the building behind me, huge clouds of fog billowing on his breath. He’s pulling on a set of rubber gloves, squinting up the road, searching for the ambo.
“Sorry, the kid I was closing up crashed. Took a while to stabilize. What we got?”
“Two patients,” Mikey says. “Woman, early thirties, with potential spinal injury and severe blood loss. Also, one of the firefighters who responded to the call. He was sliding in through the passenger window of the car the other patient was trapped inside. The streetlight she hit fell down on top of the vehicle. He has a head injury, broken leg and possible internal bleed.
“Ah. Right, well I guess that explains the fire truck then,” Oliver says. Sure enough, there’s a fire truck bringing in the ambulance, full lights and sirens blaring out into the night. The two emergency service vehicles tear into the parking lot, the fire truck pulling up outside the unloading bay, while the ambo breaks right at the door.
Oliver and Mikey rush forward with a gurney while I hurry to talk to the female EMT who’s jumping down from the rig. “There should be another ambulance. Where’s our second patient?”
“On their way. The roads are crazy. We’re lucky we made it here in one piece.”
“Who have you got?”
