Vet's Desire (29 page)

But even more,
when the taxi slid to a halt in front of his house, she couldn’t
stop the myriad of emotions that assaulted her. He’d brought her to
his home.

She got out of
the taxi while Tim paid the driver, and then stood there as the
taxi drove off, leaving her and Tim alone in the quiet street.

Tim crooked a
finger at her and damned if that autocratic gesture didn’t make a
tingle go right down her spine. Silently she walked across the
small expanse of road and up onto the footpath, coming to a halt
directly in front of him.

His eyes held
heat, so much heat, and she swallowed even as her own heart raced
in anticipation.

Lowering his
head, he kissed her, moving from a brief kiss to something much
harder, much darker, and when he lifted his head, breaking their
kiss, she couldn’t help but whimper and try to follow him.

Framing her
cheek with his hand, he rubbed his thumb across her bottom lip in a
gentle caress that was a stark contradiction for the heat in his
eyes. He moved backwards and blindly she followed, her gaze caught
in his. In this way, the tension racheting up between them, he
lured her to the steps to his house.

Sliding an arm
around her waist suddenly, he turned and unlocked the door, opening
it and crowding her into his home using his body, closing the door
behind them and clicking the lock into place.

Cindy started
to turn around, only to have her whole world swept out from under
her.

Plucking her
purse from her hand, Tim tossed it aside, grabbing her without any
finesse, simply dragging her up against him. He took her mouth,
kissing her so deeply it left her gasping for air, and kissing her
so ruthlessly it left her clinging dizzily to him, her hands
wrapped in his shirt.

Dipping his
head, he kissed her throat, his lips seeking, searching, sucking at
the tender skin, hot kisses that threatened to be so much more.

Hungry. Tim was
hungry, she glimpsed it in his eyes when he lifted his head
briefly, his gaze scorching her with the unbridled ardour that
glittered within the brown depths. Hungry for her.

Her blood
seared through her veins, pooling low as his mouth, his wicked,
magical mouth, took hers again, his tongue sweeping in, plundering
deep.

His hands moved
over her, seeming to be everywhere at once, undoing the clip
holding her hair back, unzipping the back of her dress, pulling and
tugging quickly, easily, expertly, until she was naked before
him.

Through his
slacks she felt the hard length of his shaft pressed against her
abdomen and she cupped him.

It inflamed him
more, his cheeks dark with passion, eyes glittering with fierce
desire.

“Cindy.” Her
name was a hot, damp brush against her lips as he took her mouth
again and again, sipping and kissing, taking so much from her and
leaving her aching for more.

She wasn’t in
control and she knew it. Right now the man who had stripped her so
expertly, who had aroused her body so skilfully, he ruled them
both. Every time she tried to caress him back, he blocked her,
taking her hands, holding her, kissing her senseless until she
didn’t know whether she was coming or going, until all she was
aware of was soul-searing carnal heat.

Heat burned
through her to pool in her loins, sparked down her back, tingled in
every area of her body.

She didn’t know
when or how, but suddenly Tim’s bare skin was against hers, his
lean strength surrounding her, strong hands guiding her, sweeping
over her body to claim her.

One minute she
was standing, the next she was on the floor, her knees bent as he
came over her, his muscular thighs nudging her softer ones apart.
Biceps flexed as he supported his upper body, lowering himself so
that their lips hovered just inches apart.

“Cindy.” His
eyes burned down into hers.

“Tim..” She
sighed, arching up, hearing him hiss as their bodies touched.

One hard thrust
and he was buried deep in her body, his shaft driving through her
intimate, feminine muscles that clutched at him.

She cried out,
but when he stilled, she grabbed his shoulders, begging, “Don’t
stop. Oh God, don’t stop!”

The words
unleashed his control and his hips fell into a hard, relentless
rhythm as he thrust into her over and over, drawing back fast and
driving forward with a rapacious seeking of both mastery and
pleasure-giving.

The climax
started to build fast, the heat in his eyes, the grated “You’re
mine, Cindy,” only causing the internal fire inside her to flare
higher, hotter, brighter, until she shattered, splintering apart
even as he continued to thrust, pushing her higher, further, hotter
and hotter, shattering her again before she heard her name cried
out hoarsely, felt him stiffen, and then she didn’t know anything
more as the prurience of the moment simply spun her out into
Eros.

When she
finally opened her eyes, it was to find Tim lying on his side
propped up on his elbow with his head resting on his hand, watching
her quietly.

She opened her
mouth but was unable to say anything at first. On her second try,
she managed, “Wow.”

His other hand
flexed lightly on the gentle swell of her belly, but she didn’t
feel a shred of self consciousness as she gazed up at him, because
God help her if he still didn’t look hungry.

Half expecting
some witty comment, she was surprised when he said softly, “Welcome
home.”

“Home?”

With a small
smile, he glanced around him. “Well, this is only the hallway, but
yeah.” His gaze returned to her. “Welcome to the whole of my
home.”

Pushing herself
up on her elbows, she saw his eyes darken as his gaze dropped to
her generous breasts that swayed with her movement. “Really?”

His gaze
snapped back up to her face. “Yes.”

“But you never
bring women here.”

“I brought
you.”

And he’d taken
her hard, fast, and bloody awesomely on the hallway floor. She
couldn’t stop the quiver of pleasure that tingled through her belly
at just the memory.

His hand on her
belly flexed again and she wondered if he felt the quiver.

“This is my
sanctuary, my home.” Leaning down, he stopped only when his lips
hovered a bare inch from her own. “You’re the first and only woman
I’ve brought here. This is my home. You are welcome here any time
and for any reason.”

The statement
was almost as shattering as the climax he’d given her.

Staring into
his eyes, so close she could see the paler flecks in the brown
irises, she whispered, “Really?”

“Yes.”

Happiness
slipped through her, the joy of knowing that he really cared, that
she meant so much to him that he’d opened his home to her.

Reaching up,
she laid her hand against his cheek. “You won’t be sorry.”

“I know.”

She wondered
how he could even know that, but then he was kissing her again and
all thought vanished beneath the tide of desire that once again
carried them both away.

Creeping into
the house several hours later after the tail lights of the taxi
disappeared down the driveway, Cindy still couldn’t stop smiling.
Tim had dragged her into his big bed and made love to her a third
time, and had protested when she’d finally dragged herself back out
to return home.

Reminding him
that Alex was doing her a favour by baby-sitting Al so she could go
out with Tim in the first place, she managed to placate him. Due to
the drinks they’d had at the club Tim couldn’t drive, but he
insisted on calling the taxi and seeing her into it, stopping her
at the doorway to kiss her, then again at the taxi, taking her
breath away and leaving her tingling in all the right places - at
the very wrong time.

“Just wanting
to make sure you’re suffering like me.” He grinned and stepped
back.

“Heartless,”
she retorted, and blew him a kiss as the taxi pulled away.

Now she was at
home and still tingling. The night at the movies had turned into so
much more than she could have ever imagined.

Alex stuck his
head around the corner of the lounge archway and knowingly cocked a
brow as he took in her dishevelled appearance. “I take it the night
went well.”

She could only
giggle and say, “Um…yeah.”

He rolled his
eyes. “Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”

~*~

The dog was in
renal and kidney failure. There was nothing that could be done and
Tim had the awful job of telling the owner.

Old Mr Bertram
stood there with tears in his eyes. “Nothing?”

“I’m sorry.”
Tim ran his hand down the old dog’s flank as it lay on the table
between them. “He’s had a good, long life, but I’m afraid his old
body has gone as far as it can go.”

A tear ran down
Mr Bertram’s weathered cheek as he reached out and patted the old
dog’s head. “He’s been a faithful friend all these years.”

And even worse,
Tim knew the dog had been the old man’s closest companion since his
wife’s death a couple of years ago. It made what he had to say,
though truthful, all the harder. “And a faithful friend deserves to
pass away in peace, without anymore suffering.”

Mr Bertram
looked at the drip going into the dog’s leg, the outline of the
ribs that were starting to show through the skin, the weary way the
dog lifted his head only slightly before laying it back down and
closing his eyes.

“Yes,” he said.
“Yes.”

Tim watched as
the old man continued to stroke the dog’s head, feeling the lump in
his own throat as the tears trickled down and Mr Bertram sniffed
repeatedly before taking out a handkerchief and blowing his
nose.

He hated these
times, hated when owners had to make the decision to part with
their loved furry family members. It was a sad part of his job, but
a necessary one, too. He understood how hard it was, and so he said
quietly, “I’ll wait out the back, give you some time alone with
Blackie. When you’re ready, let us know.”

Mr Bertram
nodded and Tim left the room, shutting the door behind him. Going
out into the back room, he drew up the solution that would stop the
old dog’s heart, and then he waited, leaning back against the
bench, watching the clock tick away the last few minutes of the
dog’s life.

Lara touched
his arm, empathy in her eyes. “You all right, Tim?”

“Fine.”

“You want
Margie or Bill to do this? I know how close to Blackie you
are.”

“Even more
reason for me to do it.” He smiled a little. “Thanks, Lara. I’ll be
fine.”

“I’ll come in
with you.”

“Thanks, I’ll
need you.” Yes, he’d need Lara for both holding the dog’s leg and
bringing the vein up, and to comfort Mr Bertram.

Ten minutes
passed before another vet nurse poked her head around the door to
say softly, “He’s ready.”

It wasn’t long
before Tim was carrying the old dog’s body, wrapped in a soft
blanket, out to the car. Mr Bertram slipped behind the wheel, his
eyes dry but red-rimmed.

Tim leaned down
and looked into the window. “Are you sure you’ll be okay? I can
drive you home.”

“No, I’ll be
fine.” Mr Bertram cleared his throat. “My son is on his way to the
house. He’s going to help me bury Blackie.” His eyes teared up and
he looked forward out of the windshield, taking several seconds to
blink rapidly and clear his throat while Tim waited patiently.
“Thanks, Doc. I know you did everything.” His smile was a little
wobbly when he turned his head to look out at Tim. “You were always
good to Blackie and me. Always.”

“I wish I could
have done more.” Tim patted the old man’s arm. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know.” Mr
Bertram cleared his throat again and straightened his thin
shoulders. “Ah well, he’ll be with my Mary now, won’t he? Playing
and jumping around.”

Tim squeezed
his arm gently. “They’ll both be waiting for you.”

“Yes.” Mr
Bertram started the engine and his smile was a little more genuine.
“Yes, they will be.”

Tim waited
until the car had disappeared into the traffic before he went back
inside the clinic. Going into the vet’s office, he found a steaming
mug of coffee waiting for him. God bless Lara.

Sitting down,
he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Losing a patient was
always hard, but losing patients he’d treated for years was harder.
He knew them so well, knew their habits and particular quirks that
made them so individual. It didn’t matter if they were animals and
birds and mammals instead of people, they each had a spirit, a
soul, were individual living beings. He loved them all.

And with every
animal he knew personally that died, he grieved. Not as much as the
owner, true, but he still grieved a little. And his nurses knew
enough to give him some space to regroup before he started consults
again.

The day didn’t
get any better. A battered-looking old cat with one eye was brought
in, found, said the rough-looking woman with the raspy voice, in
her garden. No one knew who it belonged to and she certainly didn’t
want the wretched thing around her place.

After checking
it out, the cat was found to be a sterilised male, in reasonable
health, approximately thirteen or fourteen years old and very
affectionate, with a yowl that could shatter ear drums within fifty
feet. Lara took it out the back to place in a cage while they
advertised him, and hopefully the owner would come looking. A scan
had shown no microchip, which made it all the harder.

Tim grinned as
the door swung shut behind the vet nurse. The old cat’s yowling
could be clearly heard, along with the kennel maid’s “Good
grief!”

The next
consult was for a bird with a malignant tumour, again nothing that
could be done, and another euthanasia. The owner was a little teary
but remained calm.