Healing Touch: Play Doctor, Book 2 (17 page)

“Prickly,” she tried to mutter into his mouth.

“Should I shave?” He smiled. “It was part of my dark period. But I think those times are over, now that you’re with me.”

“It just doesn’t seem to fit with you at all. I think you’d be even more handsome without it.” She scratched his chin, nearly making him groan. If he had a tail, it’d be wagging. The damn beard
was
uncomfortable. Tomorrow, he’d surprise her. Then he’d show her the difference, his smooth chin less abrasive as he went down on her again.

For a long while, they enjoyed simple pleasures—kissing, touching, laughing. But all too soon, the need for something deeper prodded him to action. His hand slipped lower, cupping her breast. He pinched her nipple gently, rolling the hard peak between his fingers.

Brielle squirmed against him until their legs intertwined. Her pantyless pussy rode his thigh, spreading evidence of her arousal along his quad. Tentatively, she reached out to stroke his side. Though somewhat ticklish, he held still for her exploration. He loved that she felt comfortable enough to seek the sensations she craved.

The light drag of her fingertips over his muscles had them both ramping up.

After she’d petted his abdomen, she advanced. Her wandering hand gripped his ass, holding him in place as she shimmied closer until they were pressed together for the full length of their bodies. His erection nestled into the softness of her belly.

“You feel…substantial.” She nipped his lip when he laughed. “Hey, that wasn’t some make-your-head-bigger bullshit.”

“Keep biting me and the head’s going to get bigger for sure.” His hips flexed, showing her just what effect she had on him.

“Then maybe you’d better put it inside me.” Reaching between them, she cupped her hand around empty air, a tiny fraction of an inch from actually grasping him. “Maybe I’ll have a chance at taking all of you if we expand together.”

“We’ll make it work, Brielle. However we have to.” Silent promises arced between them.

“Let’s start tonight,” she whispered.

“Are you sure?” Luke refused to risk injuring her further.

“Make me forget.” In the artificial twilight, her eyes glimmered. Pain, loneliness, fear and sadness radiated from her. For a hint of time, her shutters flew open and he could see just how badly she hurt. Screaming in agony, his empathetic nature whisked her away from the present and everything in the world that would dare to fuck with her happiness.

He slipped his hand beneath the pillow and removed one of the foil packets he’d stashed there earlier.

“Does that make-a-wish pillow work for winning lotto tickets and ice cream too?” Attempting to peek under the cushion, she exposed the pale column of her neck. “I might need some later. You know, since I don’t smoke either.”

“Sorry, no.” He kissed her while he ripped open the packet and rolled thin latex over his erection, a little concerned to find it didn’t fit quite as easily as usual. “But I am capable of calling room service.”

“Okay then, you’re on.” She shifted until his covered erection nudged the opening to her pussy. The contact made her clench the muscles there, which hugged his cock.

“I’d rather be in.” He flexed.

Luke penetrated the outer circle of her pussy. Resistance met his light pushes against the moist folds of her core. Damn, she was tight.

“Don’t chicken out now.” She grabbed his ass, pricking him with sharp crescents that sank into his skin. The muscles below approved of her rough handling. They contracted, shoving his hard-on a tiny bit deeper.

He wrapped his hand around her knee and lifted, spreading her wide before him. After aligning his shaft, he fucked, mostly using his hips. This time he tunneled an inch or two deep. “That’s better.”

“Much.” Brielle sighed.

“Is this okay?” He monitored her for signs of distress.

“Perfect.” A soft smile accompanied her response. “Thank you for making concessions. For me. And my drama.”

He couldn’t prevent the growl that rumbled through his chest. Or the companion thrust that worked him farther into her channel. She rippled around him as if intending to distract him from the lesson he planned to teach.

“I watch enough reality TV to know there’s something a hell of a lot more legitimate than bullshit going on here.” He cupped her cheek in his palm. “Your fears are valid. And yes, sometimes they define you. Over time, I think that will change. But I’ll take you any way I can get you and be glad for the chance.”

“Part of me thinks I’m dreaming when you say things like that. Except, I only have nightmares. You are real, right?” Her lashes fluttered closed as he retreated to the verge of falling from her clasp. Then he returned, plunging an inch or two deeper than before.

“Maybe I’m not doing this right.” A chuckle mixed with a groan when he ground them together. “It feels pretty damn corporeal to me.”

“Do it again so I can be sure.”

They both moaned when he bottomed out. She took all of him, holding him completely within her.

“If it’s a fantasy, it’s one I wouldn’t mind being stuck on repeat.” Brielle kissed him, the hand not pinned by her body roaming everywhere she could reach, as if memorizing every bit of him.

“Even if I can’t always be this gentle?” Luke worried he might snap in the face of her temptation. Concentrating, he kept his strokes even—short and smooth—when he began to fuck her. Soaked, she made it effortless for him to glide within her.

“Yes!” She shouted when he slid home. By feeding her more, inch by inch, he’d helped her adjust remarkably well. Somehow Brielle always did. Flexible, resilient and tough—she awed him. “More.”

Luke couldn’t deny her when he craved the same thing. Their position limited his thrusting movement, but opened the door to a sensual dance choreographed to feature grinding, the press of flesh on flesh and precise placement of his pelvic bone. He enjoyed not having to separate from her even a tiny bit.

“Is this enough for you?” He rotated his hips.

“Too much more and I think my head might explode.” Humor sparkled in her eyes. Blended with passion, the combination intoxicated him.

“I know what you mean.” Kisses distracted him for a minute or ten. “I think my fate is sealed. You feel amazing.”

Brielle rubbed against the full length of his body like a cat. Her breasts teased his chest and the softness of her stomach caressed his.

When he shifted slightly, lifting her leg higher, she gasped.

He froze.

“No!” She looked at him, eyes wild. “Don’t stop. Not now. Do that again.”

“Like this?” Luke experimented. It was obvious when he tapped her G-spot. She moaned and arched in his hold. Relentless, he stroked her again and again. The superb placement for her, unsurprisingly, worked wonders for him.

Cries filled the room as Brielle surrendered herself to rapture. She stopped thinking and simply reacted to the ecstasy he delivered. When he feared he couldn’t hold back a moment longer, she stiffened. Her eyes flew open and her gaze clashed with his.

She didn’t ask for permission.

Instead, she took and gave freely. And when her body spasmed around Luke, she pulled him along with her into a pool of endless euphoria that rippled outward from where their bodies intersected.

He poured himself into the condom, shuddering in her arms, which tightened around him and refused to let go.

A long time later, Brielle hadn’t stopped staring into his eyes as if he mesmerized her half as much as she did him. Wonder reflected in her gaze.

“Aren’t you tired, sweetheart?” His fingers combed through her hair.

“Exhausted.” Eyelids drooping, she wrestled the slide into unconsciousness.

“Afraid to sleep? I’m right here. I have you. I swear.”

“I don’t want anything to ruin how I feel right now.” She kissed him, making him wish he had supersexual powers of recovery. “Go to bed. I’ll be okay.”

“I’d rather stay up and talk in that case.” Luke rubbed their noses together. “Hold that thought, okay?”

He twisted, picking up the phone. “Good evening. Yes, morning, you’re right. Could you bring a bottle of champagne and a big-ass ice cream sundae to room 3347?”

Brielle giggled behind him.

“Are you a vanilla kind of girl?” he asked over his shoulder. “Or would you prefer another flavor?”

“You tell me.” Her stare dared him.

“Some of both, please,” he responded. “Don’t bother with a little whipped cream on top, either. We’ll take the whole can. Thanks.”

She looked at him and burst out laughing. The sight and sound fascinated him. It had him wondering just how much time they had before the staff knocked on their door.

Screw it. Semi-melted ice cream never hurt anyone.

Maybe this connection growing between them made him more than a mere mortal after all.

Dessert tasted delicious.

And when Brielle surrendered to sleep, it was with a smile and a bit of chocolate sauce on her face. She didn’t stir until long after daybreak.

Chapter Eleven

Brielle peeked beyond the edge of her curtains. A squirrel dashed across the space beneath the oak tree in the courtyard. She abandoned her post at the window for the interior of her apartment. Funny how it had never seemed so quiet—empty—until Luke’s laughter, charm and sexy body had occupied the space then gone missing.

Ignoring the disappointment zinging through her, she put together a strategy for surviving the night alone. Since Luke wasn’t there to ply her with hot fudge and orgasms by the baker’s dozen, she couldn’t count on ultimate relaxation to guarantee her a dream-free slumber.

This morning she’d woken to sunshine.

Groggy but calm, blissfully unaware of any shenanigans her subconscious might have been pulling while she slept. Unfortunately, it had been the unrelenting banging on the suite door that had roused Luke and stolen him from her clinging grasp. The cold left in his swath had stirred her as well.

After questioning them both separately, and then together, the detectives—Mason and Ty, they’d insisted she call them—had documented the nasty bruises on her arms with an endless series of photographs. Each exposure had seemed to agitate Luke more until he growled, “Enough,” through clenched teeth.

They both signed affidavits and agreed to testify against the ex-Doctor Wexford, who was being charged with assault and violation of an order of protection.

Around noon, Luke had dropped her off at work. Thank God Becca and Kurt had her covered. They’d notified her boss of the incident and that she would be late. Hell, Luke had encouraged her to take the day off, but she felt crappy enough for her lack of responsibility, never mind the fact that her apartment held no solace at the moment.

Brielle had sworn to keep stoic when Luke had regretfully informed her of his packed schedule. With the delayed start and his extended caseload, he projected he’d finish his paperwork sometime after midnight if he was lucky.

She’d already consumed so much of his precious time. She hadn’t dared to appeal for more. They both knew she’d likely still be up then, or soon after. Maybe he’d simply needed a break. Some space from the intensity they’d generated. Or maybe he could tell she was holding back still. She found it hard to believe he carried this same yearning for her.

Every second ticked by as slowly as the tender strokes he’d employed when he’d fucked her to sleep the night before. Hardly moving, he’d introduced her to an entirely new flavor of sex. One that was more about emotional interfacing than basic physics.

Quality versus quantity.

If only she had some way to repay him. In one week, he’d taught her more about herself than she’d reasoned out in the last decade. Seeing things from his perspective had radically altered her outlook. From this vantage, things looked so different.

Her phone rang

She dashed for the cheap plastic beside her bed. When she reached the device, its screen didn’t display Luke’s name and number, but an unlisted one instead.

Brielle couldn’t imagine anyone contacting her at this time of night unless it was Luke. She figured it was a wrong number and let it go to voice mail. Before the caller could have bothered to leave a message, the thing rang again.

Maybe it was Luke’s office.

Damn, why hadn’t she thought of that? She flipped open the phone and pressed it to her ear. “Hello?”

No warm voice chased away her fears. Instead, scratchy laughter assaulted her.

“Who is this?” She gathered her anger, at what was probably a prank or maybe a drunk dial gone wrong, in an attempt to stifle the instinctive fear that raced up her spine.

“Don’t call here again,” she snapped before disconnecting.

Brielle rubbed her neck, sure she’d never fall asleep now. She wandered into the main living space and double-checked her door was locked. Along the way, she spotted a blaze of color.

The flowers Luke had sent her cheered her whole kitchen. Each time she cruised past in her pacing circuit, she paused, smelled the riotous blossoms, then sighed before repeating the pattern. Her disappointment tinged with nerves ensured she’d be up all night. At least she wouldn’t have to face nightmares.