Page 65 of Caught Up In You

She stills, her chest barely moving.

“Breathe, Wyatt,” I whisper, enjoying the view of her chest heaving as she tries to breathe normally. When she settles into a rhythm, I count. “Ninety-two beats per minute. Good. Steady. Perhaps a touch elevated. Are you experiencing any…excitement, Ms. Hart?”

Wyatt huffs out a tiny laugh. “Well, a tall, dark, and handsome doctor dragged me to a storeroom to have his way with me, so I’d say yes.”

“Mmmmm.” I can practically feel her pulse in my cock. I release her neck and drop my hand immediately to her thigh, enjoying the goose bumps that rise on her skin as I move my hand beneath her skirt. “You know, there’s another spot you can take a pulse.”

“Oh?” she says, playing along, then moaning when I nudge the hem of her panties and press my fingers into the crease at the top of her thigh.

“The femoral pulse,” I say, finding the flutter of her heart. And then I take my other hand and dip into her panties, taking a swipe at the warm, wet, delicate bundle of nerves. Wyatt’s body reacts immediately, her pulse skittering beneath my touch.

I force myself to pause.

To count.

“One hundred and sixteen beats per minute,” I whisper, still circling her clit and pressing kisses along her jaw. “How high do you think we can get it?”

Wyatt lets out a sound that is somehow both a laugh and a moan, then reaches for the drawstring of my scrub pants.“Enough playing,” she says, dipping into my boxer briefs to wrap her hand around my cock. She squeezes, giving me a rough stroke that pulls a growl from deep in my chest. “Fuck me, Doctor.”

The words nearly have me tearing her panties from her body, but I manage to remember that she’s going to have to finish her shift in this skirt. The thought of her walking around the Half Pint bare is the sexiest fucking thing; it practically drives me to madness.

I quickly drag her panties down her thighs, pausing to lick the mess I’ve already made of her pussy with just my hand. The taste of her coats my tongue, and as long as I live, I know my mouth will always water at the thought of Wyatt Hart.

Wyatt seems equally frantic, stepping out of her black lace panties and kicking them into the corner as she yanks on the waistband of my scrub pants.

“Easy, trigger,” I tease, slowing her down so I can retrieve the condom I stashed in my back pocket.

“You can’t drag a girl into a storeroom and bring her seconds from orgasm and then fault her for getting a little frisky,” she says with a dramatic pout.

“You’ll hear no complaints from me,” I tell her as I roll the condom on. Then I grab her hips and lift, her legs wrapping around my waist as I press her into the door and bury myself inside her in one frenzied thrust.

I have to pause for a moment so I don’t come immediately. The feeling of being inside her, her ankles pressing into my back to pull me in deeper, her breasts heaving—it’s all too much. I can’t believe this feisty, funny, dazzling woman is letting me fuck her. Is letting mehaveher, even when I know she hates to give any part of herself away.

I don’t take it for granted. Not for a second.

“You counting heartbeats again, Doc?” Wyatt gasps as she squirms on my cock, urging me to move.

“Give me a second, woman.” I give her ass a squeeze. She responds by squeezing her inner walls until I groan. I lock eyes with her, brows furrowed, trying to hide my grin behind a stern look. “You brat. For that I’m going to fuck you until you scream.”

Wyatt just arches an eyebrow as if to say,Don’t threaten me with a good time.

And so I spare her no mercy as I fuck her against the door of the storeroom at the Half Pint. I fuck her until the glasses rattle on the shelf beside us, fuck her until her lips part, her moans mingling with the muffled sounds from the jukebox, fuck her until a flush climbs her chest and settles into her cheeks. I thrust and roll my hips so I catch her clit with every movement, and when I feel her getting close, I reach down and swipe across it with my thumb.

And just as she comes, I watch her eyes flutter shut, watch her disappear inside herself as she falls apart in my arms.

I want to beg, to plead, to will her to open her eyes. I want to see her—reallyseeher—as she comes, want to connect with her as I make her shatter.

Instead, I press my lips to hers, caressing her tongue with mine, tasting her satisfaction, as my own orgasm roars through me.

When my atoms feel like they’ve arranged themselves into human form again, I put her down and watch her eyes flutter open. They’re wide and sparkling, her pupils dilated, and when she’s finally able to focus on me, she bites her lip and smiles.

“Want to go to a concert?”

CHAPTER 24

OWEN

May 12

---