Mary Baxter - Lightning Strikes Part 3

The room spun. She had to stop him, she told herself, but she didn’t have the strength or the ammunition, not when he was touching her like this. Besides, her body was betraying her, the softness of her blouse giving way to allow his hand to have freedom to probe, to roam at will.

“You want me. Admit it,” he whispered.

“Noah—”

He ignored his name that came out on a sob, too busy lifting her hand to her breasts, then covering that hand with one of his own.

Oh, God! Amanda felt as if all the air had been sucked from her body.

“Now, can you deny it?” he rasped. “Your nipples are betraying you.”

“Please—” she begged, but for what she didn’t know.

“Please what? Please touch you here? And here?” His voice had taken on a feverish pitch.

He shoved back her coat, then placed his fingers at the top of her blouse and yanked. Buttons popped, then pinged on the floor, freeing her breasts and stomach.

She cried out in protest, but it failed to deter his hands and lips from seeking the bare, heated flesh. Trembling all over, she fought the emotions rising inside her, knowing now she’d already lost the battle.

She ached to give in, especially when his breath mingled with hers at the same time a hand ran down her leg and lifted her skirt.

Her eyes fluttered shut as he continued to tease, to nibble at her lips, feeling confident that he was in control of this sexual game.

But she knew he was not without his own vulnerabilities, that much of his so-called control had underpinnings of clay. Like hers, his senses were boiling, and only when he was inside her would he be satisfied.

And he didn’t let up. He continued to torment them both, thrusting his hips against hers. She felt his arousal hard and full when he began moving, rubbing…

The movement was like a sudden, static shock. Their groans became one as she stopped fighting, giving in to the needs invading her body. He’d won. On fire, and throwing caution to the wind, she imprisoned his tongue in her mouth and sucked.

“Amanda!” he groaned later.

It was in that moment she felt his fingers nudge her legs apart.

“Has anyone heard from Dr. Sloane? Have they found her daughter yet?”

Amanda shook her head at her friend, Doris, then said, “No, and I’m worried, too, even though I haven’t tried to call her.”

“You probably wouldn’t have gotten through,” Nurse Liz Roberts said.

Saturday afternoon’s pace in ER remained slow, despite the fact that the rain continued, though not with the same vengeance as the night before. Still, no one was holding their breath, as at any time a new string of emergencies could erupt.

For now, most of the ER staff, in addition to Doris, were in the lounge having some much-needed refreshments.

“You’re right about that,” Amanda added, “though I can’t believe Victoria hasn’t been rescued by now.”

“Well, she hasn’t.”

All eyes turned and watched as Jerry strode into the room, a smile on his wide, clownlike face. Amanda tried not to concentrate on the skin that hung under his neck like a second chin.

Why hadn’t she noticed that before? If he had been a woman, she mused, he would’ve had plastic surgery. Suddenly angry at her inane meandering, Amanda blurted out, “How do you know she hasn’t been rescued from the cave?” During the night, Karen had gotten a call that her daughter had slipped into a newly-formed cave, created by the mudslides.

“I heard it on the radio just now.” Jerry headed straight for the candy machine. When he’d punched in the number, he turned back around. “Actually, it’s the talk of the town.”

“Gosh, how awful,” Liz said. “I wish there was something we could do.” She made a face. “Karen is part of our extended family, and there’s nothing we can do for her.”

“I know,” Amanda put in. “And like you, I feel so helpless.”

“She does have Cassidy to lean on,” Doris said, dipping into her bag of potato chips, then crunching loudly.

“Don’t be too sure about that,” Liz said in a frank tone. “He’s never been thrilled with this job or the hours.”

“Let’s not get off on their private lives, okay?” Amanda didn’t want to sound like a saint, yet she wasn’t about to gossip about a cohort and her marital problems.

“Besides,” she added, “I can’t imagine them not pulling together in a crisis of this magnitude. My God, their child’s life is in jeopardy.”

“You’re right,” Liz replied, slightly red-faced. “I guess I’m being too judgmental. It’s just that Karen is such a nice person, and I want all the best for her.”

“We all do,” Doris said.

As if he were feeling left out, Jerry chimed in, changing the subject. “The missing Sloane kid’s not the only one who’s making the news.”

Amanda stiffened. “Oh? You haven’t by chance heard anything about Randi Howell, have you?”

“Nope.” Jerry rubbed his burred head. “But that’s right—she’s missing, too. Cut out before the ‘I do’s.’”

Amanda shot him a sharp glance. “I guess that’s one way of putting it.”

Jerry shrugged. “Well, it’s the truth, or at least that’s the story going around.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Amanda said, again uncomfortable discussing hospital personnel or their families. Where Noah was concerned, that doubled. When she thought about him and what had almost taken place between them in the linen closet, she literally panicked.

“Surely Noah knows something by now,” Doris said. “I should make a mental note to ask him.”

“All I can say is that I hope Randi’s all right.” Amanda walked to the window, fighting off the desire to leave the hospital and never come back. That was how disjointed and distraught she was. Noah’s unexpected come-on to her had jerked a knot in her life that she couldn’t seem to untie.

“So do you want to know what else I heard?” Jerry asked, biting into a Milky Way candy bar. “Or don’t you?”

Amanda wanted to tell him it wasn’t nice to talk with his mouth full, but she didn’t. It appeared that everyone and everything was wearing on her nerves. She should tread more carefully.

“Yes, yes, tell us,” Doris said. “We’re waiting with bated breath.”

“Yeah, right,” Jerry responded in a sullen tone.

Doris beckoned with her free hand; the other one was still in the bag of chips. “No, really, I’m listening. Spill your guts.”

“Actually, it’s no big deal,” Jerry said. “Anyone know Paige Summers?”

“I do,” Liz said, “though not personally. A friend of mine works with her. Don’t tell me something bad’s happened to her.”

“I heard she got stuck in an elevator last night.”

Doris shuddered. “Better her than me. Man, I’d have freaked out.”

“Me, too,” Amanda said, turning and moving away from the window. “Was she alone?”

Jerry took another bite of the candy and chomped on it. “Nope, or at least that’s what the announcer led me to believe.”

Amanda watched him, thinking he looked a bit like a cow chewing its cud.

“All I know,” Liz said on a sigh, “is that terrible things are happening to good people. What gets me is there doesn’t seem to be an end in sight, unless the rain does wash us away.”

“Heaven forbid, don’t even think like that,” Doris said.

“I wish that’s all we had to worry about,” Jerry muttered darkly. “My family’s stumbling around in the dark. They got caught without candles.”

“I’m sure yours is not the only one who’s in the same dire straits.”

Following Amanda’s words, the room fell silent. She stared at the clock and noticed that time seemed to be limping along. If only she could sneak home for a while, maybe she could get a better perspective on things, on what was happening inside her. Right now, her thoughts, her body, were obsessed with Noah.