Page 100 of Coming Home Country
“Don’t have time for TV, but your reading sure hasn’t taken a hit.” You could almost hear Tucker’s eye roll.
“Baby.” I placed a hand on his forearm. “Don’t be jealous. Those men are just the warmup. They get me all hot and bothered, sure.” Tucker shot me a death glare. “But they can’t finish the job the way you can.”
The sound of a chair scraping against linoleum reached my ears.
“And that’s my cue to leave.” Felicity balled up her sandwich wrapper and tossed it in the trash. “It was so nice to meet you, Bex. Don’t be a stranger, you hear?”
Tucker stiffened beside me. Even though we refused to talk about it, my departure cast a shadow over us, looming like the executioner with his axe poised to sever our connection.
Mustering up a bright smile to hide the pain that tomorrow would surely bring, I replied, “Pleasure was all mine.”
She dipped her chin before leaving the kitchenette.
Rising from my seat, I settled onto Tucker’s lap. Placing both hands on his face, I whispered, “We were only teasing you about the book boyfriends.”
His blue eyes were cloudy, his mind far away as he nodded. “I know.”
“Hey,” I said gently before pressing my lips to his. “I love you.”
The tension in his shoulders melted away, and his chest expanded on a deep inhale. “I love you too.”
I pulled back, my gaze dipping to the breast of his white lab coat, where his name and qualifications were stitched onto the fabric. I traced the lettering with a fingertip. “Have I told you how proud I am of you?”
Tucker hummed in response.
I gripped his chin, forcing him to meet my eye. “Seriously, Tuck. You grew up here the same as me. Not everyone dreams big, and even those who do often don’t follow through. But you did. You got into the best school in the country, you graduated from med school with honors, and now you make an impact on every person in the community that raised you. Theycome to you when they’re sick or injured, knowing you can help them. That’s a pretty big deal.”
Trying to lighten the mood, I raised my casted right arm with a laugh. “Came in pretty handy this week.”
Concern lit up his features. “It bothering you at all?”
I shook my head. “Barely notice it anymore. Plus, it comes with really cool artwork.” I flipped my arm over so the heart with our initials inside was visible. “Might have to get it set into one of those shadowboxes, a memento of the time the great Dr. Tucker Grant set my broken wrist.”
That got him to crack the tiniest smile. “Please tell me you’re not one of those people who has their appendix removed and wants to keep it in a jar like a trophy.”
Leaning into the ridiculousness, I nodded my head with what I hoped was a serious expression on my face. “Definitely.”
Then I burst out laughing, burying my face in his neck. He held me tight, the rumbling of his own laughter vibrating through his chest.
Yeah, I could definitely get used to this.
Tucker stopped dead at the threshold to the master bedroom, gripping the doorframe for support.
“Jesus, woman,” he breathed out, his hungry gaze roving over where I lay spread on the bed, wearing black lingerie.
I plucked at the lacy one-piece I’d found in the bottom of my suitcase when I was packing earlier. Pursing my lips, I pouted. “You don’t like it?”
The man standing dumbstruck ten feet away dragged a hand down his face. Clearing his throat wasn’t enough to remove the husky quality of his voice when he spoke. “Sorry, you’re going to have to give me a minute. Your mouth is moving, but I can’t process anything you said because all the blood in my brain has migrated south.”
My teeth sank into my lower lip when I dared to peek at the bulge pressing against his fly. Involuntarily, my thighs squeezed together at the memory of his thick cock between them.
We only had one more night together, and I wanted to make it count.
Shifting on the bed, I sat up on my knees and crooked a finger in Tucker’s direction.
He gave in to the magnetic pull between us, closing the gap until he stood directly before me. Unable to help myself, I pressed a palm to his eager erection, rubbing it over the fabric of his pants, causing him to groan.
“Fuck, Bex. I’ll never get enough of you.”
