Page 73 of Dr. Attending

“Coming home to you this week made me realize that you’re that person. You’re my person. And I know it’s selfish as hell to ask you to give me a chance because you have so much on your plate right now, but this is me asking. Give me a chance, princess.”

Caroline shakes her head slowly as if she’s willing me to take back my words, but the faint pressure of her fingers tightening against my neck tells a different story.

It tells me that she’s considering it.

I’ve teased her, danced around my feelings, and joked about my intentions again and again. But there’s no way that she can take this as anything other than a raw admission of desire—a delineation between what we are, and what I know we can be.

Her shimmering-blue eyes betray the battle waging within her, the push and pull between fear and something deeper. Her lips finally part, and for a moment, I hold my breath.

“I . . . I just don’t . . .” She looks away, like she’s searching for words that refuse to come.

“I know, Caroline,” I coo, even though it feels like my heart is shattering into a million pieces. “I know.”

My throat tightens, but I keep my voice steady. “You don’t have to explain. You have your entire career ahead of you. I understand.”

“That’s not . . . I’m not.”

Her voice is a barely audible whisper, and suddenly I wish I had just kept my idiot mouth shut because the last thing I wanted to do was put her in this position. She’s twenty-three years old. She’s at the starting line of everything she’s ever wanted. Being with me would only weigh her down, keep her from chasing those dreams.

When her eyes meet mine again, and they’re glassy with emotion. “I just need time.”

I force a smile because it could be worse. She could do what I would’ve done at her age—bolt in the opposite direction and never look back.

“I’ll leave the porch light on.”

I didn’t tell Caroline my story because I expected her to feel guilty about holding back with me. Or because I wanted to push her into something she wasn’t ready for. I told her because she deserves to know the truth—I’ll be ready whenever she is. And until then, I’ll be waiting.

“Promise?” she asks, her voice nearly a whisper.

“Promise.”

I press a soft kiss to her forehead and scoop her off my lap, setting her gently on her feet in front of me.“And until then . . .”

Her brow furrows as I reach out and trail my fingertips along the outside of her legs. I’m barely grazing her skin as I move higher, but it’s enough to make her breath hitch.

“We’re going to keep doing what we’ve been doing.” My lips twitch into a devious grin as my fingers inch the hem of her shirt higher, finally allowing myself to do what I’ve wanted to allnight. “And you’re going to learn that there are consequences for bratting.”

Chapter 26

Caroline

It’s embarrassing that the first thought running through my head as a leather handcuff gets tightened around my wrist is about how Morgan would be so jealous of me right now. Hell, I’m jealous of myself right now because what’s currently happening feels like an out-of-body experience.

“And if it gets to be too much,” Weston drawls, testing the fit of the cuff with his index finger.

He glances up, quirking his brow expectantly when I don’t respond.

Oh . . . that was a question.

I blink to try to focus, but it’s really hard because he looks ridiculously hot right now, kneeling on the floor between my legs as he prepares me for whatever he has planned.

“I’ll tell you to stop,” I answer, feeling a wave of heat rush down my spine at his nod of approval.

As soon as we finished our conversation in his office, Weston tossed me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing and marchedus to his bedroom. I made a sassy comment or two on the way there, obviously, but I didn’t fight him. It would have been pointless because I want what’s about to happen just as much as he does.

When we made it to his dimly lit bedroom, he silently dropped me on top of his comforter before walking away to grab a slender black trunk that he keeps under his bed. Even though I had a few guesses about what was in there, I couldn’t bring myself to ask as he rolled it over to me. There was something about the anticipation of not knowing that made me even more turned on, especially once he started talking about safeword communication.

Since I’ve never been with a partner where I would have had the opportunity to use a safeword, I fumbled to come up with something that made sense. In the books that I’ve read, they all sound so forced and formal, like I would roll my eyes if I had to say them in real life. Choosing “scalpel” as a safeword? Come on. It makes me cringe just thinking about it.

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