Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 80651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
I didn’t know if she’d come to my room. If she did, I didn’t know when she’d arrive, but I hoped it was soon.
I switched on the TV and flipped through the channels before grabbing a bottle of water from beside the bed. Then I clicked off the TV in case I didn’t hear her knock.
Fuck! What had happened to me? This woman I’d spent one night with was driving me to make decisions that could affect the rest of my career. I knew that. It was a terrible idea if she turned up at my door, but it didn’t stop me wanting her.
My phone told me it was ten minutes since I’d gotten to my room. Twelve minutes since I sent her the message.
How long did I give it before I gave up on her coming after me? An hour? Two? Never?
A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts and my knees weakened at the thought of who was waiting behind it.
I took a breath, strode across the room, and swung the door open.
She glanced sideways and then met my gaze. There was a warmth in her eyes I only saw when she was looking at me. I pulled her inside and she backed up against the closed door.
Finally.
She was here.
Far from feel wrong—it felt exactly right. Being near her was like finding a solution to an impossible puzzle, like finally seeing in focus after being surrounded by a blur of colors.
“What are we doing?” she asked.
“It’s one night,” I said.
She took a breath and shook her head. “You know that’s not true. We’ve had one night. A night of too little sleep and too much great sex isn’t going to change anything. It’s not like we got it out of our systems the first time.”
She was right. I’d not thought beyond having her to myself again in a private space where there weren’t a hundred pairs of eyes on us.
“I want you,” I said, like some kind of sex-crazed neanderthal. It was the only thing I could think to say.
“I want you too,” she said. “But there’s so much at stake.”
“I know,” I said, shoving my hands into my jeans pocket.
“And did you have to open the door shirtless?”
She wrinkled her nose in a way that said she was trying very hard to be turned off by my naked chest but it wasn’t working.
“No one will know,” I said, not even caring if that was true. “It’s one night.”
She stepped toward me and hooked her fingers into the waistband of my jeans. A shudder passed down my spine at her touch. “It’s not though,” she said.
I swept my thumb over her bottom lip and she closed her eyes. I cupped her neck with my hand. “Look at me.” She did what I asked and I recognized the expression of someone who’d given in.
Her rules and reasons why we shouldn’t had been overridden.
For tonight at least.
“Honestly,” I said. “It doesn’t feel like one night is going to . . .”
“Cure you?”
The corners of my lips twitched. “Maybe there is no cure. Maybe all we can do is try and relieve the symptoms.”
“What do you prescribe, Dr. Cove?”
“Kissing,” I replied. I bent down and pressed a kiss to the corner of her lips, groaning at the wave of relief that crashed over me at finally getting to kiss her again. I reached around her waist, down over her arse, and lifted her. Spinning her around, I threw her on the bed and crawled over her. “Lots of kissing.” I dipped to place kisses on her collarbone, up to her neck, then licked over the seam of her lips.
“This isn’t helping,” she said.
I pressed my tongue into her mouth, dipping and exploring, wanting to make the kissing part last as long as possible. I desperately wanted it to dull the ache I’d carried since I’d been with her the first time.
I pulled out her t-shirt from her jeans, my hands enjoying the smooth skin of her stomach. “This was my favorite Madonna era,” I said, working my way down to her stomach, placing kisses like breadcrumbs as I went.
“Me too,” she said. “Borderline is her best work.” She groaned as I unzipped her jeans and pulled them off. “Is nakedness part of the cure?”
“Absolutely. It’s vital for me to perform a thorough examination so I can provide the best treatment.”
I stripped off her underwear and pressed my thumb over her clit and circled. She propped herself up on her elbows and shook her head.
“No?” I asked.
“I’m just so wound up, I think I’ll . . .”
I groaned at the thought of her desperate for me for all these weeks. I stroked down her folds, finding her as wet as rain. “Fuck, Sutton.”
“I know,” she said, shaking her head as if disappointed in herself.