It was his time and he didn’t have to wait a second longer. He got to his feet, fishing the condom out of his pocket and shoving his pants and boxers down. He was so hard he could barely breathe, but that wasn’t going to stop him.

He managed to get the condom on, managed to shift her up so he could cover her body with his. He wanted to be close to her, wanted to feel her moving against him. Her arms locked around his back, her legs clinging to his hips. She opened herself for him, holding nothing back. When he looked into her eyes, the dreamy quality was gone and replaced with pure need.

“I want you.” She arched her back as though offering even more of herself—all of herself.

He would take it. “Then let me give you what you need.”

He thrust inside her, groaning at the exquisite feel. Heat and silk surrounded him, drawing him in. She was tight and it was a delicious fight to work his way inside. Her nails dug lightly into the flesh of his back and he welcomed it, welcomed every twist and turn of her body as she moved with him.

Their bodies found a rhythm, moving to the music and the beat of their desire. Over and over, he meshed his body with hers until he couldn’t remember where he ended and she began. He didn’t want to remember. He wanted to stay in this place where he was more than himself, where he wasn’t lonely anymore. Damn, but he hadn’t realized how alone he’d been until he’d met her.

He had to find a way to stay with her, to make himself meaningful to her life, because he was fairly certain he’d never felt this way about a woman before and never would again.

She called out his name and her body clamped down around his, throwing him over the edge. He lost control, thrusting in hard again and again, giving her everything he had.

He dropped down, not holding his weight off her, but she didn’t complain, merely held him closer.

“Stay with me,” she whispered. “Spend the night with me.”

Hearing her ask was everything he’d wanted. “Yes.”

He held her, the world warmer than it had been before.

•   •   •

Blood coated her hands, her knees, her legs. Anywhere her body met the cold of the ER floor. She’d been around blood. Blood didn’t bother her. Patients bled. It was part of the process, part of how medical professionals saved a person.

But not this time. This time the blood was merely wasted, like the life of the woman on the ground in front of her.