Page 9 of Healed By Doc
“Do you?”
“Hmm,” I hum, wetting my dry lips as I stare up at his, and I realize that I want to feel them on me with a desperation that floors me. One that promises to wreck me to the core. I realize a second too late that my breathing has turned shallow, and the thickening ridge under my ass tells me I’m not alone in these new feelings.
I…I shouldn’t want this.
Not with him.
I know it to my core that Doc is an honest man; if he says he won’t hurt me, I believe him. That doesn’t change the fact that I ruined his life, though. I should stop this, nip it in the bud before it blooms into something I can’t live without. Andsomehow, I know with absolute certainty that if I let this go further, I won’t want to live without it, without him ever again.
Still, I let my thoughts wander to how his mouth would feel on mine. I’ve seen people kiss before, heard other women reminisce that it can be as sweet and seductive as the soft scent of a rose or as dark and dangerous as a summer night. Heaven above, I want both. I want it all.
Just this once.
I’ll allow myself to get lost in these feelings just this once.
“How are you feeling now? Better?” he asks, and I bite down a whimper as those long fingers move down to the back of my knees and then back up, traveling up my inner thighs, those dark eyes daring me to protest his touch. “Your breathing is still a little off.”
“I’m fine, I…” My mouth parts with a gasp when his fingertips brush over my jean-clad sex. My eyes blur for a second at the delicious heat that shoots up my tummy. “James—”
“I haven’t heard that name in so many years,” he rasps, slowly rubbing his middle finger over the dampening spot. “No one calls me that anymore.”
My breathing is ragged when he slides his hand up and pops the button of my jeans, slowly sliding the zipper down. Every inch of me is aching when he eases my jeans and panties down my thighs, and then his hand is between my legs.
“D-Doc?” I cry out when his middle finger brushes over my damp slit. My cheeks are flushed with both arousal and mortification. Christ, what the heck am I doing—allowing to be done to me?
“I don’t want you to call me that,” he growls, moving his middle finger back and forth my slit, sending little sparks ofpleasure all over my body. My head falls back, mouth parting as harsh tremors roll through my body. “I’m Loxley to people who knew me before, Doc to the MC and everyone else, but not to you.” I feel his lips on my neck, causing my eyes to flutter closed. The harsh beating of my heart makes me dizzy, a feeling that intensifies when he kisses my sensitive skin, trailing his mouth up my throat, the hand between my legs stroking my clit in slow circles as the rest of the world falls away.
He becomes everything.
My senses tune to those sinful hands, that maddening brush of lips over skin, and a closeness that floods my nose with his intoxicating scent. He’s everywhere, engulfing me completely.
“Daddy!” I cry out, as he presses a thick finger to my entrance. I have no idea where that came from or why I said it, but I’m too far gone to feel embarrassed, though I’m sure that I will later. He goes still for a beat, and I manage to pull in a ragged breath, preparing to take it back, to apologize, when he interrupts.
“That’s it,” he growls. “Call me Daddy.”
Then his lips are on mine.
We both moan into the kiss, his body shuddering against mine as his mouth parts, slanting slightly, and then he’s moving. I open up for him, a tremor rocking through me when his tongue grazes mine. My hand flies to his neck, and I press against him, whimpering as his tongue strokes into my mouth in a kiss that sends pleasure rolling down my body to the tips of my toes.
Is this it? The soft and seductive feel of a rose petal?
“James,” tumbles past my lips, and it seems to have an effect on him as the hand between my legs stills, but only fora second before he strokes my sensitive bud harder, faster. “Oh God, Daddy!”
“Say it again,” he growls against my lips. “I want to hear you say again.”
I didn’t mean to say it the first time. I shouldn’t repeat the word, but I can barely grasp onto my thoughts to dig into all the reasons why this is a bad idea. “Daddy,” I sob, my body writhing and lifting to meet his fingers, chasing the promise of a nirvana I’ve never experienced. “Faster, oh God…”
Every muscle in my body stiffens a second before they lose tension with a rough shudder. My eyes go blind for a second and my mouth parts on a sob. I cry out, thrashing about as an intense storm crashes through my body. His mouth closes over mine again, swallowing my cries as his thumb strums my clit until I’m too sensitive and can’t handle more.
There is a knocking in my head, harsh and insistent that remains even when I’m nothing but a trembling mess in his arms. I’m still panting when he pulls back to look at me, and I realize a little too late that the knocking is not in my head but on the sitting room door.
“Cara, are you in there?” Samantha’s voice barely penetrates my lagging brain, and when it does, I suddenly push against James’s arms, blushing fiercely when I realize I’m on the man’s lap with my jeans around my thighs. “Cara?”
“I’m here. I just needed a minute to…regroup. I’ll be right there,” I choke out, climbing off James and turning away from the man to tug up my jeans.
Oh God, what did I just do?
I hear him climb to his feet behind me, but I don’t turn around as I force my trembling fingers to work so I canbutton the darn jeans. A shudder runs down my back when his hand brushes my hair to the side and he leans in, “You’re not panicking after I worked so hard to calm you down, are you?”
