The Vixen and the Vet (15 page)

“I kept trying to sit up. I wanted to sit up. I wanted to sit up and help the amputee, but they just kept telling me, ‘No, no. Stay down. Stay down.’ And I tried to open my eye, but the lids weren’t … I just …”

“No more,” said Savannah, softly but firmly, pulling herself up to look into his face. She used the backs of her hands to dry her eyes, then looked at him, at the horror and hopelessness that had taken over his eyes. “Asher? Asher, look at me.”

His breathing was fast and shallow and a little ragged, like it would be if he woke up from a very bad dream. When he looked at her, his eyes were glistening and uncertain. “Are you leaving now?”

“Leaving?” she asked, shaking her head back and forth. “No, I’m not leaving you.”

He swallowed, looking bereft. “I told you it wasn’t pretty.”

“Asher,” she said, her heart breaking for everything this extraordinary man had endured. “I promise you I’m not leaving.”

She leaned forward, pressing her lips to his, tasting the saltiness of his tears, peppering tiny, gentle kisses against the uneven contours of lips that should have been smooth but weren’t anymore. And she loved them, just the way they were.

His hand slowly slid up her naked back to her neck, holding her head in place as he captured her lower lip between his. She threw her leg over his body to straddle him. He sat up, and his arm went around her, tightening her to his chest as her ankles locked around his back and he deepened the kiss, his tongue tasting hers, his hand kneading the skin of her hip as she sucked on his tongue.

She felt his erection against her inner thigh, rigid and throbbing, and her decision was quick and fast, and she knew—in her heart, in her soul, in an instant—that it was right.

“I want you,” she murmured into his neck.

“I want you too,” he answered, breathlessly, trembling in her arms. “Next time you come over, I—”

“Not next time,” she said, leaning back to look into his eyes. “Now.”

He furrowed his brows, his panting breaths hot on the skin of her lips.

“Is this you feeling sorry for me?”

“A pity screw? I should smack you for that, Asher.”

“Then what changed?” he asked, and she softened when she saw the confusion in his eyes.

“For one, I wasn’t your girlfriend when I got here.”

She licked his lips, and they parted for her, his tongue swirling around hers as she adjusted on his lap, pushing the folds of her sex directly up against the base of his erection, and swallowing his groan when her slick heat pressed into him.

“Also …”

“Also?” he asked numbly.

“I’m falling so hard for you, Asher, and …”

“And?”

“And you’re falling so hard for me.”

“I am,” he said. “I’ve never felt like this about anyone. Not in my whole life.”

“Neither have I,” she said, pushing her pelvis forward and watching as his breath hitched and he winced in pain and pleasure.
God, it was so sexy when his face looked like that
. She rolled her hips against him just to see him do it again.

“Savannah,” he warned.

“I didn’t want to have sex with you because I wasn’t sure where we stood, but now …”

“You are?”

“No. Not totally. But I know you care for me. And I don’t know … it’s enough.” She searched his eyes, still wrapped around his body. She couldn’t wait anymore. She didn’t want to wait anymore. “I’m on the pill. Are you clean?”

He looked into her eyes. “You know I am.”

“I had to ask,” said Savannah, and leaned forward to kiss him again.

She cradled his face between her hands and rocked forward against him. They kissed madly as she slid her hands down his cheeks to his neck and finally to his shoulders, where she flattened them, bracing herself. She raised her whole body up, then leaned back to catch his eyes.

“Help me,” she said softly, gazing at him with all the love that was growing in her heart for him.

His hand trailed down her back, then reached to line up his erection with her entrance.

“Are you sure?” he asked, ready to pull back if she said she wasn’t.

“I’m sure,” she said, and then slowly, achingly slowly, she lowered herself onto him.

***

He stayed completely still, holding his breath as her tight wetness sheathed him in agonizing perfection. He could feel every ridge of silky flesh inside her, every muscle that adjusted to his length and width. A euphoric rush drained the blood from his head as he
pulsed within her, his skin hot, then cold, then hot again as she lowered herself onto him. Not until the tip of his shaft touched her womb did he exhale.

“Asher?” she moaned.

“You feel so good. So good, baby. Sweet Savannah.”

He reached for her face, pulling her toward him to kiss her as she pushed down on his shoulders, raising herself, then lowering again. He shuddered, trying to remember to breathe as he grew impossibly thicker and harder inside her. She rocked against him, and he sucked on her tongue before she pushed down on his shoulders again, raising her body. But this time, as she slipped down, his pelvis thrust up and she gasped into his mouth.

He groaned as she braced herself again, pushing up again as she slid down, until they created a rhythm of their own. She leaned forward, and her teeth scraped against his neck, making him so incredibly hot, he felt the tightening, the way he wanted to get as deep as possible, so there was no telling where he started and she began.

“Savannah,” he said, palming her cheek to look into her face She moved up and down on him, meeting him stroke for stroke, her eyes closed and her neck bent back in ecstasy. “Come for me, baby. Come for me now.”

She bit her lip, panting and gasping as her palms gripped his shoulders and her fingernails curled into his upper back, drawing blood. “Asher, I … I… Ohhhhh!”

Her ankles tightened around his waist, and she threw her head back. He pressed his lips to her throat and felt the walls of her sex clench around him so intensely, he lost any control he thought he had, thrusting into her as deeply as possible one last time. He came harder than he ever had, bellowing her name as the world slipped away and no one—no, not anyone—existed except for him and the unbelievably beautiful, tender, brilliant girl in his arms.

Savannah, whom he loved.

Savannah, whom he would love forever, long after she was gone.

The first time you realize that you don’t want anyone else but him

Asher pulled up in front of her house just as the airport van arrived. He leaned over the bolster to pull Savannah’s face to his, then swept his tongue into her mouth, branding her, wanting her to remember every detail of their lovemaking all weekend long so that no other guys could possibly live up to the scorching intensity of their time together.

Damn it, but he hated letting her go.

She smiled at him shyly, then blushed and dropped her eyes. “I feel like everyone will know what we’ve been up to. I feel like it’s written all over my face.”

“Good.” He kissed her hard again. “I want them to know. Especially the dozen guys in the condo next door.”

“Oh, Asher. I’ve been in New York for years now. I wear black and curse too much. I’m not what any of the Danvers Country Club set is looking for. I’m not what they want.”

He looked at her face—her full pink lips, flushed cheeks, bright eyes, and shiny brown hair. “You’re what
every
man wants.”

“But I’m
your
girlfriend.”

And he had no choice. He had to kiss her again, only pulling back from her when they heard a sharp rapping on the glass beside her. Asher let his hand slide down her face and pushed the button on his door to open her window.

Scarlet Carmichael stood outside the window with her hands on her hips and a very sour expression on her face. “Really, Savannah?
Really
? The night before my bach you do a disappearing act?”

Asher leaned over the seat, looking up at Scarlet. “Sorry, Scarlet. It was my fault too.”

Scarlet pouted. “Nobody ever made Savannah Calhoun Carmichael do a thing she didn’t want to do, Asher Lee. Hush up.”

“Don’t you speak to him like that,” said Savannah, reaching for Asher’s hand.

“SA-VAN-NAH! The van is here! My attendants are inside drinkin’ Bellinis. We are leavin’ in
ten minutes
, and no one had any idea where on God’s green earth you were!”

“Well, I’m here now, I’m already packed, and I’ll be right in for a Bellini.” Savannah made a whisking movement at Scarlet’s face with her free hand. “Go on. Go on, now. I’m
sayin’ my good-byes.”

“Well, say them
… FASTER!” growled Scarlet, turning, well, scarlet. She stomped back into the house, her aqua-blue-and-white-striped sundress swishing angrily in her wake.

Savannah turned back to Asher. “I guess I have to go.”

“I’m sorry I got you in trouble.”
She shrugged, lifting his hand to her lips and kissing it softly. “It was worth it.”

He leaned forward, swapping his lips for his hand and gently kissing her with all the love in his heart. “Be good now,
ya hear?”

She nodded, giving him a sweet smile as she opened the door and walked through the white picket fence.

Asher’s heart ached as he watched the front door closed behind her. Then he turned his car around and pointed it east, toward Maryland.

***

Savannah sat in the far back corner of the van and rested her head against the window glass, ignoring her sister and her seven sorority sister-style friends from high school: Lynnie, Jenny, Goosey, Bonnie, Millie, Minnie, and Ginny. When Christy and Kelly joined them for the rehearsal dinner and wedding, the group would be complete.

They’d all bonded for two key reasons: one, they were all thin, beautiful, and very Southern, and two, they loved the way their names sounded all together, preferring to call
Scarlet by her actual first name, Katie. In fact, in high school, they’d once entered the talent show all together and sang the whole Britney Spears song “Oops! … I Did It Again” a cappella, using only their ten names for words.

When they first got in the van, Jenny said they should all call Savannah
Vanny.

“Y’all,
Vanny is a perfectly sweet sobriquet,” said Jenny, who’d once spent a week in Paris.

“It’s precious,” agreed Goosey, whose little-known real name was
Hortense. Her mother had called her “little goose” when she was a baby, and the nickname had stuck. Between Goosey and Hortense, Savannah was fairly certain she would have chosen Goosey too.

“All in favor of
Vanny?” asked Minnie distractedly, reapplying her lip gloss ten minutes into the car ride.

They all raised their manicured hands and said, “Yea,” in unison. Except Savannah.

“Nay. Not in favor,” she said. “And since I won’t answer to it, what’s the use, girls?”

Scarlet shot her a look, and Savannah shrugged. She would go to Myrtle Beach and make the best of it with Scarlet’s silly, well-meaning friends, but she drew the line at ridiculous nicknames.

“Well, Savannah
is
a lovely name,” said Ginny, who’d always been the peacemaker. “Like Magnolia.”

“Or Tulip. Like the honey,” said
Lynnie, the dim queen of non sequiturs.

Savannah’s head spun.
Tupelo
, like the honey. Not to mention, they were naming flora—for heaven’s sake, a tupelo was a tree—when Savannah was actually a city. She bit her tongue nearly hard enough to taste blood, then turned her attention, and forehead, to the cool glass of the window, stopping just short of banging her head against it.

And of course her thoughts turned to Asher.

How in the world would she write up the next installment of “Adam & Cassandra: An All-American Love Story
”
? Was she actually supposed to share some of what had taken place in Asher’s bedroom last night? She clenched her thighs tightly together as her memories heated her cheeks and her eyes glazed over with lust. She’d ended up with five orgasms, all told, and the one this morning, as Asher made love to her when the sun was coming up, was the most beautiful of all.

Waking up spooned together, with her face turned toward the sunlight streaming through the windows, she’d felt Asher push her hair aside and bury his face in her neck. She sighed, warm and languorous, her body aching both from use and from want as she felt his growing hardness against her lower back. Her breathing sped up, hitching as she realized how much she wanted him again, how right it felt to be filled by him, how this was her last chance until next week.

She bent her top leg in invitation, pressing back against him, and he ran his hand lightly from under her breast to her side, over her waist, down to her hip, which he grasped gently. He moved closer, and she felt the tip of his hardness linger at her entrance. She covered his hand with hers, to give him permission and let him know she was ready. He eased himself inside her, inch by inch, slowly, lovingly, taking his time and stretching her gently until he was fully sheathed within her.

Despite his care, she still gasped as he entered, clenching her eyes shut as his velvet heat swelled inside
of her. He reached around to caress her breasts, rolling a nipple tenderly between his thumb and finger as she kept her hand on top of his, and pressing kisses to the back of her neck.

“More,” she murmured, leaning her head back against his shoulder.

He pulled back gently, then slid back into her again, deeper this time.

“Savannah,” he groaned, his breath hot against her neck. “It's so good …”

“More,” she said again, raising his hand to her mouth. He slipped two fingers between her lips so she could suck on him, rolling her tongue around his fingers as his hips pulled back and rocked into her again.

Savannah’s hand skimmed down her sensitive breasts to her tummy, slipping between the slick folds of skin, and whimpering as her fingers rubbed the throbbing bud of her sex while he gradually increased the rhythm from behind.

He withdrew his slippery fingers from her mouth, reaching for her nipple and pinching until it was hard and aching. Savannah arched back against him, feeling the pressure and heat pooling in her belly, beneath her fingers, tightening around his erection, which continued to slide and throb within her.

“Asher, I’m so close,” she panted. “I’m so …”

He pulled out of her almost entirely, lingering at her entrance, clutching her against his chest, and whispered, “I’m falling in love with you, Savannah.” Then, he pushed back into her hard and fast and as deeply as possible. She cried out, her body exploding, the sweetness of his words making her breath catch. Her inner muscles clamped around his strong, hard length, holding him tightly, keeping him deep, as they found their release together—a climax so strong and so complete, it was like dying and being reborn in each other’s arms.

Savannah’s body trembled in her quiet corner of the van as she relived every perfect detail, her eyes dampening as she heard his words in her head again,
I’m falling in love with you, Savannah.

For as much as she’d dated several different men, some quite seriously, Savannah had never been comfortable with the “I love you” stage of those relationships. It always felt fabricated or forced, like something that was expected—something that was supposed to come next in the relationship and that she could check off once the words were said. It had never felt real. It had never felt sacred. Until now. Because she heard it in his voice and felt it in his touch and knew it from the look in his eyes when they caressed her face: this was the real deal. Asher Lee was falling in love with her.

And for the first time in her life, because it was, in fact, the first time the words actually meant anything, they scared her. This wasn’t checking off a box or saying words she didn’t mean in a “Sure, love ya too” sort of way. He was braver than she was because even though she couldn’t return the words this morning, she felt the same. She was falling in love with Asher too. The act of falling in love with someone was singular in her life, and wholly uncharted.

Her heart pounded relentlessly against her ribs.

Savannah didn’t like uncharted.

And yet, as she gazed out the window with watery eyes, she realized that she didn’t feel uncomfortable with Asher’s declaration. She realized that there was little in her life that meant more to her than making room for Asher. She wanted him to love her. She craved his body and
mind and heart. But she didn’t know how to have them and keep them when there were other things she wanted too.

She forced herself to think about the piece that still needed to be written at some point today and sent to Maddox. She blocked out the group of singing, chattering girls around her and listened to the words in her head:
I’m falling in love with you.
Her reporter’s mind insisted that, to nail the piece, she’d start with that line, then tastefully backtrack to how they got there. It was exactly what McNabb wanted. A honey of a love story. A crowd-pleaser. The “ooh, aah” moment that would make voyeuristic eyes mist with tears for the wounded vet who managed to find love in the arms of a reporter.

She frowned at her reflection in the glass as the green hills rushed by.

It wasn’t about anonymity; she could easily protect Asher’s privacy by changing their names. No, this was about a new problem that Savannah had never experienced. Their love affair might be great news, but it was also …
theirs
.

Asher had said those words to
her
. Only to her. Whispered them into her ear while their bodies were intimately connected, holding each other tenderly and reverently. They were sacred and powerful, and yes, they’d make a good story, but they belonged to her and Asher. They belonged to stolen moments during the most vibrant sunrise of her life. They belonged to her ears alone, not 100,000 more listening in.

And yet, even if she and Asher could figure out a way to meld their worlds, could she live a satisfying life in Danvers knowing she had thrown away her chance to restart her career? Would the safe glow of Asher’s love be enough as she left her dreams dead by the roadside?

“Vanna,” said Scarlet, throwing a small foiled packet and hitting her in the forehead. “You are far too serious for my bach weekend!”

Savannah picked up the condom from her lap and shook her head at her sister, who at some point had donned a plastic silver tiara that read “Bride-to-Be” in pink plastic rhinestones with a short white veil in the back. Three silver flasks were making the rounds, and Scarlet grabbed the nearest one and thrust it over the seats toward Savannah, then grabbed another and yelled, “Cheers!” with a big grin.

Savannah sighed. For once, Scarlet was right. Her thoughts were too heavy. She’d deal with them later.

“Cheers!” she cried, beaming at her sister and tilting back the flask of vodka and lemonade until it was empty.

***

“Well, Asher,” said Colonel McCaffrey, M.D., as he entered the consulting office and sat behind the desk across from Asher. “Let’s get down to it, eh? We can do the cast for your prosthesis
today, but you’ll have to come back in a week for the fitting, and then two weeks after that for final delivery. And when you come back for it, I advise you to stay on for a little while and really learn how to use it. I know you were hoping to get it all over with in two visits, but it just doesn’t work that way.”