Page 45 of Extended Bridge

Myself.

He’s awakened something within me I didn’t even know was there. The fact he’s my patient doesn’t mean a thing anymore. With Darren’s blessing, I’m finally ready to let loose.

He uses his body to push me against the refrigerator. With only a few inches between us, he asks, “Can I hug you now?”

I close my eyes. “Yes.”

A growl emanates from him, more compelling than anything he rumbles on stage. “This is it, Jenna. You and me. I’m not going to be able to hold back.”

I gaze into his green eyes, which have taken on a deeper hue. “You’re not healed.”

“Fuck that. I’m healed enough for this.”

His lips crash down on mine, stealing my breath and all of my thoughts. He wraps his arms around my body, pressing his entire body into mine so his growing hardness juts into my stomach. His tongue traces my lips, seeking entrance into my mouth. Which I give him.

Because he’s the man who defends and supports and heals me. As I hope I do him. In this moment, I’m all his.

My hands snake around his neck as I melt into his long, lithe body. We kiss like this for seconds, minutes, hours. Days. Time becomes meaningless.

Bennett breaks away from me, both of us gasping for air. He doesn’t wait more than a couple of beats before kissing down my throat, lingering on the spot where my neck meets my shoulder.

“You smell of bourbon and vanilla.”

I drop my head onto the wall. “It’s my perfume.”

He sniffs. “Plus something uniquely Jenna you can’t get from a bottle. A hint of perfection.”

His description makes my knees weak. But for the fact I’m holding onto him, I’d be a puddle on the floor. I interlace myfingers around his neck and absorb his own unique woodsy scent. “I’m hardly perfect.”

“Maybe you are to me.”

He recaptures my lips, his tongue immediately dancing with mine. More. I want more of this man. My hands slide down his torso to the bottom of his shirt, which I pull up. Our kiss breaks only to rid him of the offending material, then his naked torso presses into mine again.

My fingers skim his muscled arms, reveling in his defined shoulders. Needing air, I break us apart and stare at the way his chest rises and falls rapidly. How his tattoos dance on his muscular arms. I’m doing this to Bennett. Me. A mere physical therapist from Long Island. Which brings me to the reason I’m here. “How’s the thigh?”

“Given all the blood flow to it, the muscle pull is at a zero. My groin, however, is hurting.”

Mentally, I give his pain level a two. As for his perceived injury, I’m sure he’s not feeling any pain there. I cup his junk. “This hurts?”

I’m rewarded by another growl. “You could use your magic on it.” He does a slow blink. “To make it feel all better.”

My fingers tighten around his expanding appendage, causing him to suck in his breath. “Sounds painful,” I murmur. I tighten around him again.

In a whirl of motion, he steps away from me, yanks my shirt over my head and discards my bra. Then, he grabs my hand and directs me toward the back bedroom. Over his shoulder, he says, “But for my stupid injury, I’d have you in my arms right now as I carried you to the bed. Better yet, I’d have picked you up and wrapped your legs around my waist as I navigated to any flat surface so I could get inside of you sooner. So, you see, I am making concessions.”

A giggle bubbles up. “Your physical therapist appreciates it.” A second later I step into the bedroom, both of us half naked and breathing hard.

Bennett pushes hair away from my face. “Damn. The things I want to do to you, Jenna. I want to make you screammyname so loudthe people all the way in New Jersey will hear you. I want to make you forgetyour ownname. I want to make you unable to remember anyone else who’s ever been inside you.”

My head spins at his words. When he closes the gap between us, I whimper. He doesn’t waste a second, rather devours my mouth while his fingers knead both breasts. With one, he circles my nipple while the other squeezes my entire B-cup. With the right bra, though, I can almost be a C-cup. The way he focuses on them makes me feel like I have double-Ds.

“Bennett,” I breathe. My next words are lost as he drops his lips to replace his fingers playing with my pebbled nipple. He takes it between his teeth and nips, shooting streaks of desire directly to my core.

It’s harder and harder for me to stand on my own two feet. “Ah!”

I’m rewarded by a growly chuckle. In the time it takes for him to move from one breast to the other, he murmurs, “You’re getting there. But you still know your name.” He latches onto the twin and repeats his same moves. Sparks of desire intensify.

Not one to be outdone, my fingers undo the button at his fly. With as much care as I can muster given my raging passion, I pull the zipper downward with an electrifying zip.

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