Page 76 of Night Shift

My eyes widened in disbelief. “You what?! No one is allowed to touch that car—”

Before I could finish my sentence, Samantha silenced me with a hard, unyielding kiss. Our lips locked, and my anger melted as I gave in to her irresistible charm. Damn, what was happening to me?

I growled and slid my hand between her thighs, finding her clitoris swollen and begging for attention. She shuddered beneath my touch, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps as I teased her mercilessly.

“Tell me, Samantha,” I whispered huskily in her ear, my fingers working their magic on her tight bundle of nerves, “do you think this old man can make you come again?”

All she could do was let out a whimper that turned into a groan.

“Fuck, Samantha!” I snarled, then pulled her heels up onto the marble countertop, spreading her legs to reveal her fully to me. I leaned in, breathing in her enticing scent before running my tongue along her slick folds. She tasted like heaven—sweet and tangy—and it drove me fucking insane.

Tossing the spatula aside, I dropped to my knees, burying my face between her thighs and feasting on her like I’d been dying of hunger my entire life. She was intoxicating, like the sweetest nectar, and I couldn’t get enough. For a while, I lapped at her folds, teasing her swollen clitoris. Then I slid two fingers inside her, groaning when she clenched around me. I could feel her pulse racing beneath my lips as I sucked and licked at her sensitive flesh.

“Atticus, oh God,” she moaned, her fingers gripping my hair as I continued my assault on her pussy. Her body trembled, and I could tell she was close.

“Atticus,” she begged, arching her back and grabbing the edge of the countertop. “Oh God, don’t stop.”

As if I could’ve stopped even if I wanted to. I was lost in her, drowning in her. I wanted to make her feel good, make her forget the ghosts of her past. Furiously, I tongued her clitoris, twisting my fingers inside her, and listened to her moans turn into whimpers.

“Oh… Oh… I’m going to… I’m…” She panted, unable to get out a complete thought.

“Come for me, Sam,” I coaxed, increasing the pace of my tongue, wanting to push her over the edge. “I want to feel you clench around my fingers.” I didn’t relent until her entire body tensed and she cried out my name, her walls contracting as she shattered. My fingers held her through her orgasm. I only withdrew them when her trembling subsided.

While her breathing slowly returned to normal, I rose from my knees, wiping my lips with the back of my hand. “Still think I’m just a grumpy old doctor, Nurse Sheridan?”

She panted, her eyes heavy with lust. “Oh, you’re grumpy, Dr. Thorin, but God are you skilled.”

“You’d better get used to this feeling, my little midnight snack,” I whispered. “I hope you’ve got good stamina. After tonight, you might not be able to walk in the morning.”

Pulling the board of snacks closer, I grabbed a couple of grapes and placed them in her mouth, grinning wickedly. “You need to hurry up and eat, Samantha. Because I need to fuck you soon, or I’m going to end up with a case of blue balls.”

While Samantha munched on the grapes, she kept her playful eyes locked on mine. We devoured the last of the snacks and continued to tease each other about our age difference, debating who had more stamina. She tried to hold her own in our sexually charged conversation, but my years of experience allowed me to fire back with wild threats that made her cheeks turn crimson.

“All right, old man,” she teased, wiping her mouth with a kitchen towel. “Let’s see if you really have what it takes.”

“Ah, but don’t forget that I’ve got extensive expertise on my side,” I said, deliberately running my hand up her thigh and brushing my thumb up her folds. “Besides, age has its advantages, darling. Like knowing exactly how to make a woman scream my name.”

“Is that so? Well, maybe I’ll just have to put your claims to the test.”

“Absolutely,” I replied.

With that, Samantha sprang off the counter and darted up the stairs. I chucked the cutting board in the sink and followed close behind her.

By the time I got to the staircase, she had reached the top. I paused on the first step, my eyes drawn to the curve of her perfect ass that led down to her slick slit. A primal hunger surged through me; I couldn’t wait another moment to devour her again. Tonight, we’d push each other, and I was more than ready for the challenge.

The rest of the night was a blur of steamy encounters, with Samantha and I taking turns exploring each other’s bodies. We were insatiable, like starving animals, our moans and cries bouncing off the walls of my bedroom. It was sinful, erotic, and everything we’d ever needed.

Hours later, as the sun rose over the horizon, we surfaced from our passion-fueled haze, drenched in sweat and panting for air. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so alive, so free. My world, which had once been black and white, was now full of vibrant hues of red, yellow, and blue, thanks to her.

“I want more,” I rumbled, running my fingers down her spine and then tracing the delicate tattoo beneath her breast. “I need more of you, Sammich.”

The sun peeked through the blinds, casting its soft golden light on Sam’s creamy skin. For a moment, I just lay there and admired her. Our bodies were entwined, exhausted from the hours of powerful physical intimacy we’d just shared. Her red hair was splayed across the pillow, a gorgeous contrast to the white sheets. How had this exquisite, intelligent, trusting—yes, even though she claimed to have never trusted anyone—woman come into my life? I wanted to earn—no, I wanted to deserve—her trust.

I squeezed her tightly, drawing her to me and inhaling her unique scent. I didn’t want this night to end, but we had to emerge into the real world and deal with things. She was being stalked by what appeared to be the Russian mafia. The injustice of it wrapped around my mind like a suffocating shroud. Sam lay peacefully against me, breathing softly, unaware of the turmoil raging within me. How could I keep her safe when danger lurked in the shadows, threatening to tear her from me?

My thoughts drifted back to the meeting I’d had yesterday with my friend, Colton Davidson, a private detective who lived up in Laurelhurst. The evidence of the attacks, the attempted kidnapping, and the ransacking of her apartment painted a chilling picture of the danger Sam faced, and Colton’s grim warnings echoed in my ears. I hadn’t found the right moment yet to share any of this with her. How could I burden her with the weight of such terror?

But the truth gnawed at me like a ruthless beast. Ignoring the danger wouldn’t make it go away. If anything, it only heightened the peril she was in. The Russian mafia was not to be trifled with, and their continued pursuit of Sam filled me with a paralyzing fear.

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