Something About Joe (18 page)

Allison
twined her fingers through his hair as he suckled her breast,
flicking it and teasing it with his tongue. She felt herself
opening and melting for him and she tilted her hips toward
him.

He groaned
at her sensuous movement and lifted his mouth from her breast to
kiss her again. His kiss was fierce, demanding, and Allison kissed
him back with equal hunger. His heart pounded against her
breast.

He pulled
her tighter, lifting her and cupping her bottom in his strong
hands. The excitement levels that had been growing with every kiss
became almost unbearable. His hands slid down to the top of her
garter belt. She gasped at the sensation of Joe’s hands on her
heated skin. His fingers were excitingly rough from the calluses
worn by the steel strings of his guitar.

She could feel his arousal pressing
insistently against her and knew he wanted her as much as she
wanted him.

She’d told
him that night at her house it was too soon to make love. That
seemed an age ago. Now it seemed like Joe had been a part of her
life forever.

She wanted
him and she loved him.
She
loved him.
The thought was a
revelation.

J
oe was beyond thinking about the
consequences of making love to Allison. He just wanted her—and he
wanted her now. He’d want her tomorrow, too. This woman was
special.

He lifted
her back along the beach, deep into the shelter of the
tree shadows. Then he laid her down on the sand
so she was lying on her back, his leather jacket cushioning her
from the hardness of the ground. She made no protest when he undid
the single hook that fastened her dress and untied the tie so the
silky fabric slid away from her, falling on either side, revealing
the full length of her body to his hungry eyes.

Her breasts
swelled over her bra, the nipples hard and erect; her curvy hips
covered by only her garter belt and the briefest triangle of white
lace. He groaned at the sight of her creamy thighs, bare where the
silky stocking ended. Garters. The stairways to heaven.

It was agony not to take her right now. But
he wanted to take his time, give her as much pleasure as he could,
bring her to a fever pitch of excitement. She’d been so reluctant
to make love, she needed gentle handling.

He unfastened the front clasp of her bra and
her magnificent breasts sprang free. He fondled them, kneading the
hard nipples between his fingers until she moaned.

He bent to kiss her again but, to his
surprise, Allison impatiently unbuttoned his jacket and roughly
pushed it off his shoulders, then unbuttoned his shirt so his chest
was bared.

She rubbed
his nipples and caressed his chest and he growled as her hands slid
down his belly to unbuckle his belt. How could she expect him to
hold himself back when she incited him like that?

He pulled
down her lace panties and she lifted her hips to make it easier for
him. Her triangle of hair was a tangle of palest blond curls and he
gently pulled and played with it before sliding down to explore the
secrets of her womanhood.

Allison’s
breathing was ragged, her face flushed, her eyes dark with desire.
She shuddered and trembled and bucked her pelvis urgently toward
his fingers. Joe realized with a shock she was on the edge of
coming. Forget being patient and gentle. Allison was as hot for him
as he was for her.

She reached
for his zipper and yanked it down, the rasping of it loud in the
silence of the night. With fingers that trembled with urgency, she
tugged off his pants and his boxer shorts.

With hands only slightly more steady, Joe
reached for the protection from his jacket pocket.

D
esire had become a fever and
Allison opened her thighs, her hips undulating in a rhythm as old
as time, urging Joe to take her. She could feel him nudging her
entrance with his warm, hard erection and anticipation of what was
to come almost made her faint. He thrust into her warmth, invading
her, filling her. She gasped her pleasure and gripped him in
welcome. He was hard and strong and his rhythm answered her
desperate need of him.

Without
losing a stroke, Joe hooked her feet up behind his neck so he
leaned over her. “I want to watch your face,” he murmured, as he
thrust into her, caressing her with his fingers at the same time so
she became almost delirious with excitement. She didn’t know where
her body ended and his began.

His mouth was twisted with desire and his
eyes dark with passion and she found the look of sensual
concentration on his face unbearably sexy.

She moved
her hips to meet his rhythm, faster and faster until the pleasure
became so fierce she exploded into orgasm. She called out his name
over and over. This was passion like she had never dreamed
possible.

But there
was no respite from the pleasure, no rest, no lull. He reared above
her like a dark deity, pumping his life force into her, his head
flung back as he growled his ultimate pleasure. The sight and
sensations of his release, and the knowledge she had given him this
ecstasy, excited her unbearably and set her off into another
shuddering spasm of delight.

Their limbs
still entwined Joe turned her to him and lay next to her on the
sand, his breath as ragged as hers. She could feel his heart
pounding against her breast, smell the marvelous salty smell of
him. She felt exhilarated, high, as well as exhausted and deeply,
fulfillingly satisfied. She laughed with the sheer joy of
it.

“What was that for?” Joe asked, tenderly
stroking damp tendrils of hair back from her face.

Allison laughed again, overwhelmed by
happiness. “What we did was just so wonderful. You’re so
wonderful.”

She kissed
him. She’d wanted him so much for what seemed like so long,
fantasized over him and here he was, this perfect male—her lover.
But he wasn’t just a sexy, mind-blowingly handsome body. This was
Joe, the man she loved. She turned this new realization over in her
mind. Should she tell him she loved him? She ached to share her
feelings with him. To tell him how much he meant to her. How much
she hoped—

Her cell
phone rang, its strident tones rending the silence of the
night.

For a
disbelieving second she just stared at Joe, unable to comprehend
the interruption. Then she sat up and fumbled for her purse,
carelessly discarded on the sand nearby.

She answered it. It was Katie, her voice
pitched high with worry.

“
Allison,
Mitchell’s got a very high fever. He’s not
responding to paracetamol and I’m worried.” It took Allison
a second to remember that acetaminophen or Tylenol was known as
paracetamol in Australia. Whatever, this was bad news.

“I’ll be home as soon as I can. Call the
hospital, ask them for advice.”

Allison
turned to Joe. “It’s Mitchell—he’s sick. I need to get home.
Now.”

With clumsy
fingers, Allison pulled her clothes back into order, cursing as she
hunted in the sand for her panties, frantic with worry, twisted
with guilt.

Thank heaven
for the speed of the Harley—within fifteen minutes they were
drawing up in front of her house.

Allison
tugged off her helmet and thrust it at Joe. She ran to her front
door and pounded on it, too anxious to waste time fumbling for her
key. Katie answered the door immediately, as if she’d been pacing
near the door waiting for her.

The girl
looked distraught, her face pale. “Thank heaven you’re here.
Mitchell’s getting worse,” she gabbled. “He was fine earlier in the
evening. Just the little cough he’s been unable to shake off. But
now—”

By this time Allison was running up the
stairs, Joe following her, Katie breathlessly telling her what had
happened as she climbed the stairs after them. “The hospital told
me to give him paracetamol, and to sponge him down but it’s made no
difference. I was just about to phone them again.”

Allison
rushed to the cot, to find Mitchell lying there in just his diaper.
His little face was burning scarlet, his hair all damp and standing
up in spikes. He was whimpering deliriously. Suddenly his little
body went completely rigid and arched, his eyes rolled into the
back of his head and he convulsed into a fit, his limbs flailing
out of control.

“Mitchell!” Allison cried, her voice shrill
with terror, reaching for him. “What’s wrong?”

CHAPTER NINE

“
L
et me help,” said Joe, pushing
his way past Katie to get to Mitchell’s cot. “I think he’s had a
febrile convulsion. We’ve got to get him to the ER.”

Allison was
holding Mitchell to her. “Come on, sweetie,” she crooned, her voice
breaking.

Joe put his
hand on Mitchell’s forehead—it was burning.

“
Don’t wrap
him in anything—
keep him cool,” Joe
ordered. “Katie, you said you’d sponged him down, we need to do it
again.” Katie ran toward the bathroom.

The anguish
on Allison’s face tore at Joe’s heart. “Joe, how do you know what
this is?”

“
Lissa had
febrile convulsions when she was a baby. And I studied it in first
aid. The fit is caused by the child’s temperature soaring so
quickly his body can’t cope, and kind of goes into
overdrive.”

Katie handed
him a cool, damp washcloth and gently he smoothed it over
Mitchell’s fever-racked body. Mitchell didn’t protest. “That’s it,
little guy, we’re just cooling you down,” Joe murmured.

The baby’s
limpness and vacant gaze was more alarming than the actual fit.
Joe’s eyes met Allison’s—hers wide with a terror he knew was
reflected in his own.

He was
anxious to reassure her—and himself. He spoke rapidly but as calmly
as he could. “A febrile convulsion isn’t usually dangerous. Lissa
was fine after hers—no side effects at all. But he should be in
hospital if he has another fit.”

“
Let’s go.
Hurry,
” Allison cried.

Katie
stuffed a few diapers and some pajamas into a bag and followed them
out of the room, snatching up both her purse and Allison’s as she
went, and slamming the door behind them.

In Allison’s
car, Joe drove as fast as he legally could the short distance to
the hospital. Allison
and Katie sat in
the back seat with Mitchell, who fell asleep.

Joe slid into the parking bay in front of
Accident and Emergency. Mitchell awoke and started crying as
Allison got out of the car with him in her arms. His cry was
reassuringly loud. “Don’t run with him,” Joe cautioned Allison.
“You might drop him and then we’ll have a real problem.”

She managed a watery smile and her eyes were
warm with unspoken thanks.

Joe followed
her into the hospital. Thank heaven he’d been there with her
tonight. He couldn’t bear the thought of her having to cope on her
own. She’d struggled too long without any help.

The waiting
room was half full of people. But the triage nurse in charge of
assessing patient priorities saw them immediately. She took
Mitchell’s temperature and then asked for some details from
Allison.

As Allison
shakily gave details of Mitchell’s date of birth and health record,
Joe realized how much he didn’t know about this little
family.

And how much
more he wanted to know.

The nurse smiled reassuringly at Allison.
“Mrs. Bradley, we have one of the best pediatric emergency units in
Sydney here. Mitchell is in good hands. You can take him in
straight away.”

She turned
to Joe. “Mr. Bradley, you can take your wife and son through
there,” she said, pointing to a double door to the right of her
desk.

“I’m not Mr. Bradley.” Joe blurted out the
words without realizing the possible consequences.

“Oh,” she said. “You’re not Mitchell’s
father?”

Was she going to try and stop him? He wasn’t
family. He had no rights to be with Allison and Mitchell. But they
needed him. There was no way he was going to pace the waiting
room.

“He’s a good friend,” explained Allison,
“and so is Katie.”

The sister looked them over. “Fine. Go on in
then.”

The
pediatrician saw them immediately. She took Mitchell’s temperature
again. Thankfully, it had gone down a few points since Katie had
taken it at home. The doctor lay Mitchell on a hospital cot and
examined him thoroughly as she listened to Allison, Joe and Katie
explain what had happened. When the doctor had finished her
examination, Allison stood by the cot, stroking Mitchell’s cheek
until he fell asleep again.

“
It sounds
like a febrile convulsion, all right,” the doctor said, in a
reassuringly matter-of-fact tone. “It’s frightening, but not
uncommon in children of this age.”

Joe was
relieved his diagnosis had been right. Allison shot him a grateful
glance.

The doctor looked at Katie, “You did the
right thing giving him the paracetamol,” she said. “Bringing his
temperature down as quickly as possible is most important. It’s on
its way down which is a good sign.”

She turned
to Allison.
“I want to keep Mitchell
under observation for a few hours. We’ll give him antibiotics for
the chest infection that’s brought the fever on. I think he’ll be
fine now, but we can’t let him go home until his temperature is
normal.”