Jill Shalvis - Instant Gratification

Yeah. No way around it, he felt like a jerk for that. “Emma-”

“No, don’t.” There was a light breeze ruffling her hair and she shoved it out of her face. “You care about him. It’s good. It’s good that I know your loyalties are with him. It makes you trustworthy.”

He stared at her, not liking where this was going either. “But not trustworthy for you?”

“Honestly? I don’t know.”

Damn, if that one didn’t hit home. “You know what I think? That you’re using this as an excuse to run scared from whatever the hell it is we’re doing.”

“First of all, we’re not doing anything. We’re both geographically unavailable, remember? And second, you really think I’d use my father’s health as an excuse?”

“I think you’d do anything to get out of here. Away from the emotional roller coaster this place has presented. Compared to us, New York must feel like a dead zone. No personal emotions required.”

“Don’t,” she said tightly. “Don’t get me started. I came here for him. God, don’t you understand that? He needed me and I came.”

“And in return, you don’t need him at all? Is that what you’re saying?”

She let out a frustrated breath and then turned to walk again. “I’m a lot of things, Stone. Anal, obsessive, obnoxiously competitive…”

“Obstinate…”

Her lips quirked. “That, too.” She stopped and let out a breath. Closed her eyes. “You’re right. I’m looking for an excuse to blame you when the truth is, I’m so grateful that you were there that day that I don’t even care why you didn’t tell me. I’m picking a fight because…because I’m a coward.”

“What are you afraid of?”

“Leaving you.”

He let out a breath and stepped closer. “So don’t go.”

“I have to. I am leaving, Stone. I am. I want us both to know that.”

Feeling like he’d swallowed sand paper, he nodded. “I know it, and I want you to know that I didn’t tell you because it was his story to tell, not mine. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I care about him, and I care about you. Very much.”

“Even though I’m going.”

“Even though you’re going.” He forced a smile. “You think if you say it enough times we’ll get used to it?”

“Yes.”

Fair enough. He reached for her, so over fighting with her. They didn’t have enough time left to fight. “Let’s be done rumbling in the parking lot.”

She tried to remain stoic and utterly failed as a small smile crossed her face. “I don’t know. I like to rumble.”

God, he loved her smile. “Let’s kiss and make up instead.” Reaching up, he set his palm on her jaw, then winced.

She pulled his hand down and looked at it. “You have a splinter.”

“It’s no big deal”

“It’s already getting infected.”

“Later.” He tried to lean and kiss her but she slapped a hand to his chest. “Wait here.” She grabbed her bag out of the truck. “Come here. Unless,” she said with a raised brow. “You just want to use a Band-aid or super glue on this too?”

“Ha ha. I’m fine.”

“You will be. I have everything I need right here.” She patted her bag and smiled reassuringly. “And there’s not a needle in the mix, I can promise you.” Without waiting for him, she took his hand again, pulling it closer, turning it to get better light. It also blocked his view of the tweezers she’d pulled from her bag, which amused him. “You think I’m a pansy-ass.”

“No, I know you’re not.” She paused. “I’ve been thinking about what you said last night.”

He felt a very slight tug in his palm. “About…?”

“The letting me inside you thing.” Her gaze lifted from his hand to his eyes. “Specifically the part where I don’t connect.”

“Oh. I like the letting me inside you thing better.”

She laughed, and he felt another slight tug, but then she was leaning in so close that her breast brushed his arm, and he ceased to think at all.

“Did you know when you say it that way?” she murmured. “It sounds…”

Another slight tug, which didn’t bother him in the least since another part of him altogether was once again stirring. “Sounds…?”

“Dirty.”

“You think sex is dirty?”

One more tug and then she ran her thumb over his palm, her gaze direct and intent on what she was looking at. “You heal fast.”

He grabbed her wrist when she would have turned away. “Nice change of subject.”

She smiled. “I’m the master at it.” She pulled her hand free. “Your splinter’s out.”

“Thank you.”

“And no.” She squirmed. “By the way. I don’t think sex is dirty. Although, we had our moments, didn’t we.”

He grinned. “Yeah.” He looked at his palm, while his heart thudded heavily with the weight of pretending that her leaving wasn’t going to destroy him. “Nice bedside manner, Dr. Emma.”

“Working on it.”

He cocked his head and studied her. “Is that what that was? Flirting, to distract me from what you were doing?”

“I didn’t intend for it to be flirting necessarily. But yes, I was trying to distract you.”

“Nicely played. Sex is always distracting. But why the change of tactic?”

She sighed. “I watched Spencer deal with a patient who needed stitches, and he did it better than me.”

“Ah.” Now it all made perfect sense. “It’s a competition thing.”

She winced. “I liked the look on the patient’s face. She…she liked him. She connected with him, because he made her feel better. I wanted that too, wanted to make you feel better.”

Touched, he took her hand. “You know, I like this new you.”

Clearly uncomfortable with that, she looked away. “It’s the same old me.”

“Well whoever it is, I like her. So…back to that connecting thing.”

“Yeah, about that.” She closed up her bag, then looked at him. “Look, we all know that I didn’t want to be here in Wishful. But it takes a lot of energy to hold onto that much resentment. I had no idea.” She shook her head. “I must be burning calories left and right with it, because do you have any idea how many casseroles I’ve eaten in the past few months, and I haven’t gained an ounce. But I can’t do it anymore. No more resentment. Instead, I want to…”

“Connect.”

She smiled, looking relieved that he was following her. “Yeah.”

“Before you leave.”

“Yes.” She took a step into him and set her hand on his chest. “I want to go knowing I learned to fit in. That I learned to be…softer, kinder. More relaxed and laid-back, easygoing. Like you, Stone.”

She hadn’t taken her hand off his chest, which he considered fair game, so he put his hands on her as well, gently squeezing her hips, pulling her in, feeling the tension in her. “You’re not there yet.”

She looked down at their bodies now touching from chest to belly to thighs and everything in between, then back up at him, her eyes heating. “I know. That’s because when I’m with you like this, I don’t feel relaxed so much as…revved up.”

“Is that right?” He slid his hands up her back slowly, past her still slightly aching ribs, letting his fingers dig into her muscles just a little in a massaging pressure. “How about now?”

Her pulse kicked. Her nipples hardened, pressing against her silk top.

“Feel nice?” he murmured.

“Nice makes me think of kittens and flowers.” Her pulse was fluttering like crazy, which he liked. A lot. “I’m not thinking kittens and flowers, Stone.” She pressed into him, and he knew the exact moment she felt how hard he was because her eyes locked on his.

“Yeah,” he said huskily. “My body thinks you’re hot.”

“And your brain?”

“Oh, my brain knows it.” He tilted her head up so that their mouths were only a whisper apart. “Let’s forget everything else, Emma, and connect.”

“And the rest.”

“Right. Let’s teach you to be laid-back. Easygoing. I’ve got just the thing.”

“Well…in the name of personal growth then,” she whispered, letting her fingers play with his hair at the nape of his neck.

“In the name of personal growth.” They kissed, long and deep and so hot he nearly melted.

Eyes still closed, Emma pulled back, breathing hard. “Okay, it’s not working.” When she opened her eyes and met Stone’s dark, heated gaze, she felt…flummoxed. When he looked at her like that, she felt other reactions as well; in her throat, in her belly, in her upper chest, which she told herself was a purely physical response to a gorgeous man, but she knew the truth.

It was her heart, something she wasn’t quite ready to admit. “I’m the opposite of relaxed.”

“We’re getting to it.”

At the sexy confidence in his voice, a shiver of desire shot through her. “We should be over this by now.”

“I don’t feel over it.” Slipping his hand around the back of her neck, he let his fingers play on the delicate skin as he kissed her again, opening his mouth on hers, letting her know how much he wanted her, which was the most amazing thing to her.

He wanted her.

Slowly, he broke off the kiss, taking his damn sweet time about it too, leaving their lips still touching for a long beat before finally pulling away. “Do you?”

She looked into his eyes. Dammit. She’d had lovers. Maybe not a lot of them, but certainly enough. And not one, not a single one, had ever made her feel like Stone did, like if she didn’t have him, nothing was ever going to be right again. “You’re not taking my problem seriously.”

“You know what I think?”

“That sex is the answer to all the planet’s problems?”

He grinned. “Well, yes. I also think you’re trying too hard.”

She stared at him, lifting her hand to touch her still wet, slightly swollen lips. “How do you stop trying to relax?”

“Stop thinking.”

“Yes, but…with us, everything’s so…hot. So wild.”

Looking quite proud of that assessment, he smiled.

“It makes my brain race.”

All she could think about was him, the way his body moved against hers, how he was made of pure corded sinew, how warm his smooth, tanned flesh felt against hers. And then there were his eyes.

And his mouth.

God, his mouth. “How? You’re pretty potent, you know.”

“Same goes, Emma. Come on, I have an idea.” Taking her hand, he tugged her around the side of the big lodge to the first of two equipment garages. Opening the first door, he led her inside, where there was a large snowcat, several quads, a snowmobile, and a whole bunch of other outdoor equipment she couldn’t quite catch because he turned her toward the small office to the right.

“Nick’s,” he said, and opened the door. The room had a metal desk and an old, beat-up couch. Skis, poles, boots, bikes and other various parts were scattered everywhere except the one spot where a large basket sat next to the couch. In it was a watchful Chuck, and her four soft, fuzzy, wiggly kittens.

“Oh,” Emma murmured, her heart melting in a puddle as she dropped to her knees by the basket. “Oh, look at them.”

“Their eyes just opened this morning. See that soft gray one?” Stone crouched just behind her, speaking softly, pointing to the one kitten she’d already spotted, the one that was just a little bit separate from the others. “She’s the youngest.”

“The runt.”

“No, she’s not weak. She’s a fighter. Look at those eyes. She’s fierce, intense, and just a little bit pissy.” His voice was full of both amusement and pride, and Emma turned her head to meet his gaze.

“She reminds me of you.”

“Hey,” she said with a laugh. “Pissy?”

He smiled, and she sighed. “Okay, so we share a few traits. Are you sure she’s a she? Because Chuck surprised all of you.”

“She’s a she.” His gaze ran over the features of Emma’s face, which felt like a caress, and her entire body reacted.

“You know,” she said unevenly. “It’s a pretty cheesy move on your part to use kittens to soften the female into having sex with you.”

“So it’s working then?”

“No,” she said on a laugh.

He lifted a kitten and nuzzled it to his jaw, and every hormone in her body stood up and tap-danced. Apparently in agreement, the kitten “mewed” softly, let out a huge yawn, and cuddled against him.

Emma’s heart, already melted, twisted hard. Dammit. “It’s hard to think too much when you’re holding one of those.”

“Okay.” Shifting, he set the kitten in her arms, who happily snuggled in, and Emma sighed, definitely falling for the sweet little thing.

And maybe, just a little, for the man as well.

Or a lot…

As she thought it, as she leaned over the kitten to kiss Stone, to crawl into his arms and burrow in much like the kitten had, the door behind them opened.

Stone sighed and looked up at Nick, standing there holding the door open for Spencer and Serena.

Nick lifted a brow at the sight of Stone holding Emma, who was holding the kitten. “Bad timing, huh?”