His tongue slides over me, finding my clit, circling my entrance. I’ve had this done a few times before and it was never particularly memorable, but this is different. Better. Crazy. Wild.
My hands go in his hair and I fight to still my hips, but I can’t resist arching into the silky stroke of his tongue.
He groans against me and lifts me up to his mouth, his fingers curling into my flesh as he devours me. It’s raw and it’s hot, and it’s crazier than anything I’ve ever done, but it’s so good.
I hear myself whimpering, “Please.” I don’t mean to say anything, but I’m lost to this tightening inside me, this aching squeeze, this need for more.
He slides two fingers inside me and then I’m slipping. My entire day has had me at the edge of an awful precipice, and half the hurt has come from trying to hold on.
I let go.
When I climb onto the couch with her and pull her into my arms, I’m sure of two things: one, Nic falling apart from my mouth is one of the most beautiful things I’ve seen in my life, and two, if I’m even a fraction as noble as she thinks I am, I’ll make sure our wild night ends here.
My heart is racing and my cock is rock-hard, but something about the way she reacted to my touch reinforced the impression of innocence I got from her earlier. Whatever happened to her today has left her vulnerable, and I can’t take advantage of that more than I already have.
She nuzzles my bare chest and releases a low, throaty moan that sounds like a purr and sends an electric shock of pleasure up my spine. She lazily follows the outline of the phoenix on my left pec, then dips her hand down to trace the line of hair beneath my navel to my waistband.
When she palms my cock through my jeans, I groan. “Jesus, Nic . . .” I press my head into the cushions, and my hips buck into her touch. “You don’t have to.”
“I want to.”
“But tomorrow . . .”
“Tomorrow, I’ll remember this as the hottest night of my life.” She licks her lips and shifts over me, slowly unzipping my fly, and despite all my better judgment, I’m helpless to stop her. When she tugs my jeans and boxer briefs down my hips, my dick springs free, and she wraps her hand around me.
I hiss at the contact. The pressure. “Fuck, that feels good.”
She strokes and squeezes, and I close my eyes, trying not to blow this like a teenager getting his first hand-job.
She puts her mouth to mine, her hand working between our bodies. “We need a condom.”
I pull in a shaky breath, and before I can decide whether a condom is a good idea or a bad one, my phone rings.
Ring one, I ignore, my mind on the condom I don’t have and shouldn’t want. But at the second ring, I come to my senses. “I have to get that.” I cup her face in my hands and kiss her hard before reaching into my pocket to take the call. I don’t want her thinking I’m blowing her off, so when she tilts her head and deepens the kiss, I slide my tongue against hers and thread my hands into her hair.
She clings to me. “Ignore it.”
Fuck. I wish I could, but I already know by the ringtone that it’s the answering service, which means it’s about a patient and I need to take it. “I can’t,” I whisper against her mouth. “It’s work. I’m sorry.”
She climbs off me. My jeans have fallen to the floor, and I pull them back on as I answer the call. “Hello?” I stand. I have to step away from Nic if I want to have any chance of hearing what the answering service has to tell me.
“Dr. Jackson, Penny Gibson was just admitted. She’s already at eight centimeters and feels like she wants to push.”
After three babies, she’ll go from eight to ten in no time. “Thank you. I’ll be there in five minutes.” I end the call, slide the phone into my pocket, and turn to Nic. “I have to go.”
She flinches and pulls her knees to her chest, covering her naked body. “Okay. Sure.”
I shake my head. “It’s not like that. I swear to you.” I pull on my tee, then shove my arms into my dress shirt. “You have no idea how much I want to stay here, but it’s work.”
“I understand,” she says. “You don’t owe me an explanation.”
I find a piece of the hotel stationery on the desk and scribble down my name and number. “If you need anything at all while you’re in Jackson Harbor . . .” God, that sounds like I’m writing her off. I take a breath. “I’d like to see you again. Maybe we could do it right next time. Dinner, a movie, something like that?” Maybe I’ll regret those words tomorrow. I don’t do dates. But with this woman . . .