Page 28 of Saving His Heart
“Good thing no one there cares what I look like. Just give me fifteen minutes to shower, and I’ll be ready. I hope Mr. T is there today. I’ve been worried about him.”
Mr. T, as she calls him, is one of her favorite patients. She started sitting with him months ago when we first starting going to the center. He had on a paper gown with no arms and tubes hung all around his neck. She called him Mr. T, and the friendship grew from there.
“How’s he doing?”
I hate the expression on her face when she answers, “I don’t think he’s doing well. He’s all skin and bones. His particular type of colon cancer is about as aggressive as cancer can get. He says he is lucky to have made it this long, but I don’t know. It’s just sad that he’s all alone.”
Staring into her eyes, I tell her honestly, “He’s very lucky to have you, Emory. So am I. In case I forget to tell you that. I will forever be grateful for all you have done for me.”
“You’re welcome,” she whispers.
“I’ll let you get ready. Just text me when you’re done.”
“Sounds good.” Emory walks behind me as I make my way to the door.
Once again, I find myself lost in her eyes.You have to stop this shit, dickhead. I really need to talk to Dex. Eventually, I force myself to open her door and walk toward the elevator.
As I’m pressing the button, I hear her yell down the hall, “Hey, Preston? Want to have breakfast tomorrow?”
Cocking my head, I stare at her, completely confused. “Ah, sure. That sounds good.” I guess that’s what couples would do, right? She must be getting into character.
“Great, should I text you or nudge you?” she says with a wink and a full, throaty laugh.
Fucking hell. She got me again.
Pointing at her as the elevator arrives, I say, “You’re trouble, you know that? You should not know this many bad pick-up lines.” I’m rewarded by her laughter again. Instead of entering, I let the doors slide closed and stalk back toward Emory’s apartment.
Standing right in front of her, I lean down to whisper in her ear. We have to get this over with anyway, right? “Did you know my lips taste like Skittles?” She toggles back and forth from my lips to my eyes before taking the smallest step back. “Emory, you’re about to taste the rainbow.” I lean in, painfully slowly, so she has plenty of time to back away. When she doesn’t, I take her lips with mine.
I only meant to give her a chaste kiss, but the second my lips meet hers, I’m lost. With my hands on either side of her face, I angle it to meet mine. I’m itching to touch her, but I don’t let my hands roam. Instead, I nip at her bottom lip, causing her to inhale in surprise. With her lips open to me, I taste her for the first time. The zing I feel when touching her arm has nothing on the full body lightning strike happening right now.
Emory tastes like peaches and bubbles, my own little bellini. Our tongues dance, slowly, methodically, and the slight whimper that emerges from her sweet lips has me remembering this is all pretend, so I pull away sooner than I’d like. She tumbles forward as I release her, and fuck me if that doesn’t boost my ego from over-inflated to Jolly Green Giant territory.
“Did you have Lucky Charms for breakfast, Goldie?”
“What? I … you made breakfast, I—”
“Because you, sweetheart, are magically delicious.” I wink with the broadest smile I’ve probably ever had as I back away. “One point for Preston. Text me when you’re ready.”
Upstairs, I’m relieved I made it through the apartment without running into Lexi. A raging hard-on in gym shorts is impossible to hide. Magically delicious is the understatement of the century. Christ, if we hadn’t been in the hallway or if she had made the slightest move, I would have mauled her and given two fucks about who saw.
In the privacy of my own room, I strip out of my clothes on the way to the shower. I stare down at the one-eyed monster that’s already leaking, begging for attention. Turning the faucet to scalding, I wait for the water to heat and grab my phone. Opening the Google app, I type: Is it normal for terminal patients to get the hots for their doctors? I scroll through pages and pages of searches and find nothing.
Just me? Great.
After tossing my phone on the counter, I step into the water and do the only thing a man in my position can do. I turn into the fucking creeper, rubbing one out to the vision of Emory’s lips wrapped tightly around my swollen cock.
Closing my eyes, I can picture her so vividly. Ems has her natural red hair in this fantasy, and remembering how sexy she looks, I almost come right then.
“Fuuck.” It comes out on a long, low groan.
Emory is on her knees before me, her hair slicked back from the shower. I can see the droplets of water running down her neck and falling from the hardened tip of her breast. When I envision her hand sliding down her belly, I lose control and come harder than I have in a very long time. I actually see fucking stars and have to take a seat on the bench.
When is the last time I got dizzy from an orgasm? Jesus, if that’s my reaction to the thought of Emory, I wouldn’t survive the real thing.Never one to back down from a challenge, not even one made to myself, I take a few minutes recovering and imagine all the naughty things I would love to do to my little Goldie Locks.
Chapter 10
Emory
