Page 107 of Love Sick

She hums her desire as I deepen the kiss. My arms encircle her, pull her close, and she’s flush against me, but not like that first kiss when she was clad in flimsy, stretchy cotton. Braless. Nothing but warm, soft curves molded to my body.

Now, the starched scrubs scratch as we move. The rainbow pens in her pocket poke my chest. The pager clipped at her waist digs into my hip.

I don’t care.

Her tongue touches mine, and I’m gone. My hand slides beneath her shirt, skimming her ribs, and she steps backward. She retreats. A cold disappointment swells before her hands clench onto the fabric of my shirt and drag me with her.

We reach the bed. She pulls me down on top of her. The kiss has its own motive, running away from me as my body acts on pure instinct. The scent of her skin travels deep into the fabric of my being, weaving throughout.

Her legs part to make room for me. They stretch wide, and we fit together. The scrubs do nothing to hide how much I want her, but she doesn’t balk when I drive that point home against her.

The kiss breaks, and we stare at each other. Hazel eyes have gone forest green, and a fever-bright gleam radiates across her skin. Her hands fall away, landing beside her face, and her body undulates against mine.

She doesn’t break eye contact, but the dazed, thirsty glint in her gaze burns like white-hot steel through my limbs, making me impossibly hard—a torturous pleasure-pain only tolerable because she craves the friction I can give her. She nips my lip and rocks against me, and her breath catches as her eyes flutter closed.

“I was thinking about you all day,” she whispers against my mouth.

“Yeah?” We find a rhythm together. “What were you thinking about?”

“This.”

I stare at her face. “Grace, are you…close?”

“I was close before you even touched me, Julian.”

Fire catches in my bones at that admission. She was hot before she walked in the room just from thoughts of me.

The smallest pressure has her right at the edge. I would rip apart the fabric between us if it could get her there faster. This pleasure on her face is exquisite. Priceless. I need this image burned into my memory, this proof that I can make her want it. Want me.

I move faster, and she stifles a strangled cry, then whispers my name.

My lips find hers again in a messy kiss. Wet. Hot.

A rattle behind me sinks into the cacophony of desire. “Grace—Oh my god!”

We both freeze and twist toward Alesha as she looks everywhere but at us, pink hair flying around her face.

“Oh my god.” She retreats enough that the door closes, but her muted voice filters through. “Stop dry humping my friend at work, you perv.”

Grace turns to ice beneath me. Her wide eyes stare at me. “Shit. We’re at work! What are we doing?”

No, no, no. Don’t panic.

I brush her still-flushed cheek. “Um. I think you were about to come.”

She smacks my shoulder, but the frazzled tension melts from her body. “I was not!”

“Ireallythink you were.”

On the other side of the door, Alesha clears her throat. “I can hear you.”

I roll off Grace and wince at the pressure below.Fuuuuck.“Go away, Alesha.”

Grace’s uncertain hand touches my shoulder. “I’m sorry. Do you need—”

I curl onto my side. “I just need a minute.”

“Can I come in now?” Alesha calls.

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