Playing Doctor (Bandit Creek Books) (5 page)

He rolled his hips letting the head of his cock tease her even more. “You want this?”

“Yes, I want it all.”

He centered himself and began pushing his cock inside her. “Yes, ma’am.” He pulled out a little and stroked back in farther and farther, until she was sure she could feel him in her throat.

“Oh God.”

“Easy baby, almost there.” He stroked out then back in, in, in. He paused, his pelvis pressed tight to hers. “Fuck,” he groaned. He stroked out and in again. “Jesus, you feel like a vice around me”

Abby shook, on the brink of orgasm. “Listen up soldier. I need you to fuck me good and hard. Got that? Don’t you hold a thing back.”

Another slow stroke. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You can’t hurt me,” she told him. “Right here, right now, I’m yours.”

Her words broke through his restraint. He began to piston inside her, one hand supporting most of his weight, the other holding her hip in place so he could power into her without shoving her backwards on the bed.

His cock hit every pressure point every time and within moments she threw her head back as her orgasm rolled over her.

She came back to herself to hear Smitty muttering, “Slow and easy. Not yet, Not yet.”

“Not yet, what?”

“Want to make you come again.” With that, he began to power into her again, stronger and faster than before.

The pressure built quickly and only moments later she came so hard she screamed out.

Smitty jerked against her and groaned as he hung his head and shook. He sunk down onto her, his arms coming around her to hold her close.

She clutched at him and buried her face in his shoulder.

“Wow,” he whispered in her ear.

“Wow, wow,” she said, then giggled.

He laughed too. “Is it all right if I sleep here with you?”

“Yes, please.”

He flashed a grin and pulled away and out. “I’ll be right back then.” He rolled the condom off his cock and left the room for the bathroom next door.

“When did you put the condom on?”

“While you were staring at my handsome face.”

She thought about it for a moment. “Nope. I stared at your monster cock the whole time you were take those incredibly sexy plaid boxers off. Couldn’t take my eyes off him.”

He strode back into the bedroom with a cloth in his hand. He knelt on the mattress and cleaned her then he tossed the cloth on the floor and crawled up the bed to lie next to her.

“I’ve got special ninja skills.”

“Ha, I plan on keeping a sharp eye on you next time.”

“See, that’s the question I want to ask.”

“What question?”

“When can we do this again?”

She sent him a saucy smile. “That depends on how fast you reload, soldier.”

He stroked a hand down her face and gazed at her as if she were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. “It won’t be long.”

She’d seen that expression before, but never on Smitty’s face and never directed at her. She’d seen it on the faces of the men she’d returned home with as they met their wives and girlfriends. It was the expression a man wore when he felt something powerful for woman.

She was so not the right woman for Smitty.

She wasn’t the right woman for anyone, and probably would never be.

Chapter Six

S
mitty woke her only once during the night to make love with a furious passion that surprised her with its speed and ferocity. They made love again in the shower, both needy after teasing each other with soap and shampoo.

She let him drive her to work without chucking any dynamite into
Lost
Lake
for the first time in weeks. She saw patients until about 11:30 when she planned an early lunch with the Sheriff at the diner down the street from the clinic.

He arrived as she was hanging up her lab coat and tipped his hat to her. “Morning Abby.”

“Morning.”

“You feeling okay?”

“Yep, no lasting effects from yesterday’s shooting.”

“Good. Shall we?” he asked, his gaze lingering on her receptionist and the one or two patients who hadn’t left yet. “Where’s Smitty?”

“He had to make a call and fax something, so he went down to the drug store to use their machine. He’ll catch up to us when he’s finished.”

The Sheriff nodded and she followed him out and down the street. He didn’t say anything else until after they’d sat down and been served their coffees, but even then she had to pry it out of him.

“So,” she began. “Tell me about the bullet that damn near took my head off my shoulders.”

“.50 caliber, match-grade round.”

“It’s not something a hunter would use, is it?”

“No. It’s something a police or military sniper would use.”

“A sniper?”

“Yep.”

“Did you find where he was when he took the shot?”

“No, we’re trying to find the spot based on trajectory, but it’s hard to find since he could have been as far away as 2000 yards. That’s a lot of ground to cover.”

She shook her head. “Why would anyone want to shoot me? I’m broke and I’ve been out of the country for more than three years until a few weeks ago.”

He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Did something happen in
Afghanistan
? Did you make any enemies?”

She shook her head, but he kept asking.

“Did someone make a pass at you that you had to rebuff?”

“Rebuff? You sound like Watson from the Sherlock Holmes books. I had to explain things a little harshly for one guy to understand I wasn’t interested, but he died from an IED six months later. No one else got close enough to me to be a bother.”

‘What do you mean no one else got close enough to you?”

“A couple of months in, Smitty and a few other guys like him were assigned to our unit. We were a mobile medical unit that set up shop where ever and when ever any specific missions were being run.”

“He’s really not a paramedic or something like that?”

“No. Don’t get me wrong, he has advanced first aid training, all of the men like him do, but his job was to keep us medical types safe.”

“So, what is he?”

“I’m not supposed to say.”

The Sheriff rolled his eyes. “Abby.”

“Excuse me? You hired him to babysit me and you don’t know this already?”

“I thought he was in your unit.”

“He was.”

When she didn’t add anything else, he sighed and said, “I thought he was medical support or something. For Christ’s sake, just tell me.”

“Fine. He started out as a Marine, but ended up in the Special Forces.”

The Sheriff’s jaw dropped. “Holy shit.”

“You want to find out if it was a military sniper shooting at me? Ask Smitty to help you, because he is one.”

“Your unit was being protected by a bunch of Special Forces guys?” He sucked back a huge mouthful of coffee. “What the fuck were you doing that you needed that kind of protection?”

“I already told you.”

“That can’t be all.”

“We were sent into some high risk areas. Highly trained trauma docs, nurses and PMs don’t come cheap or thick on the ground. We were considered high grade assets and protected accordingly.”

The Sheriff stared a hole in the table for several more seconds then looked at her. “Are you sure, absolutely sure you can trust your Smitty?”

“Yes.”

The Sheriff nodded then said, “Because when I called up the who-ha in charge of you medical people, Smitty was the only name the bastard would give me.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“No?” He seemed stymied by her acceptance. “Want to tell me why?”

“Because Smitty and I were the only two out of my unit to survive.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me.” She didn’t add anything else, because she really didn’t want to think about it.

“If you think that’s going to satisfy me, think again missy.”

“Sheriff, you’re a difficult man.”

“Story of my life. Talk Abby.”

“Fine.” Maybe this would do her some good. She took a breath and dove in. “We were in a helicopter on our way to somewhere I’m not supposed to remember when we got hit with some anti-aircraft rounds. The chopper went down hard. I came to still strapped into my seat, but the chopper was a mess.” She could see it all as if it were happening all over again. “There were people and parts everywhere. I could smell smoke, blood and burning fuel. Someone was screaming.” For a moment her throat locked and she fought with herself to suck in some air. It took two long seconds for her to figure out how to breathe again so she could continue.

“It was the screaming that got me moving. I got out of my harness and started checking bodies to find the live ones. Most of them were dead. I found my way to the guy who was screaming. He’d lost most of his left leg.” She shrugged. “It just wasn’t there. I used my belt as a tourniquet to stop the bleeding, but it was really bad. I searched for medical supplies in the wreckage. I figured if I could get an IV into him, push some fluids, keep him from going into shock, maybe, just maybe I could save him. I was a few feet away from him when I heard the voices and the shots. A couple of insurgents had arrived and shot my patient. I was hidden from view by a panel, but there was a dead Marine at my feet. He was new, it was his first mission with us. He was staring at me, right at me, and his mouth was open like he was about to say something important.” She shook herself. She had to finish, had to get through the whole horrible sequence of events. “I took his weapon and killed the insurgents.”

She stopped talking. She stopped everything and waited for the Sheriff to castigate her for her actions, for breaking her oath.

He never said a word.

So, she kept going. “Anyway, I was puking my guts up when Smitty found me. He’d been on the other side of the chopper and had been thrown clear. He was beat-up and bruised, but he had his weapon in his hands and he was ready to use it. We tried to call out on the radio, but it was busted. A few minutes later more insurgents arrived and the two of us were forced to defend our pitiful wrecked helicopter and our dead. He kept watch while I searched for more survivors, and I even found a couple, but an hour passed, then two and they both died. Night was falling when a rescue helicopter found us and got us out of there.”

“How long ago was this?”

“About a month before I came home.”

“A month?” The Sheriff’s mouth hung open. “That’s it?”

“Yeah.” She’d done it. She’d told someone, and Smitty was right she felt lighter somehow, like a weight that had previously sat in the middle of her gut had disappeared.

“No wonder you’re blowing stuff up.”

“Does this mean I can play with dynamite again?”

“No.”

“Well damn Sheriff, you’re no fun at all.”

“Abby, maybe you should be staying with your folks. They’ve plenty of space, and I really think you need to be around people who care for you.”

“Are you saying no one gives a shit about me here in town?”

“No, but family is family.”

“And the fact that my parents live on a ranch thirty minutes from anything has no bearing on your suggestion.”

“Not a one,” he said without blinking.

“No thanks, I’d go stir crazy at their place in about an hour.”

“It might come up in conversation. Your dad and I have coffee at least once a week.”

Now he was playing dirty. “Sheriff, I never did like threats much. I like ‘em even less now. I’d rather go back to
Afghanistan
than go home.”

He stared at her with the biggest frown she’d ever seen on his face as he demanded in an aggrieved tone, “Why?”

“Because if I learned one thing while over there it’s that life is for living, not hiding. Not running away.”

“Honey, you’re running now.”

“Then I’ll stop.” She pushed away from the table and stood.

“Where are you going? We haven’t even had lunch yet.”

“I’m going to find the asshole who took a shot at me and find out what the hell is going on.”

“No you’re not.” Smitty approached their table with a tiger’s stride, so casual you knew he was dangerous. “Sit down, doc and have some lunch.”

“Great, the two of you are going to gang up on me, aren’t you?”

“If you’re thinking of doing what I think I just heard, yes.” He took a seat and pointedly looked at hers until she sat in it.

The waitress took their order, soup and sandwiches all around. The two men eyed each other like a couple of boxers before a fight.

“Stop glaring at each other,” Abby said. “Smitty, I told the Sheriff about the chopper crash. The Sheriff told me the bullet that nearly killed me was a .50 caliber match-grade round.”