Page 52 of Seduction
“The cat and the wolf,” I whispered when we moved our lips apart to take a breath.
Jake chuckled then kissed me again. Something told me that we would be doing a lot of smooching throughout the evening.
* * *
A window separatedthe back seat of the limo from the front, so it felt as if Jake and I were in our own universe. It had been a while since I’d ventured off to admire the mansions in the Garden District of New Orleans. I used to visit the neighborhood often when I was an intern. There used to be days I couldn’t fall asleep after my shift ended to save my life. Exams, surgical procedures, and material from the day’s symposium cluttered my mind. Walking through that neighborhood helped me battle my insomnia. I would stop in front of my favorite properties and stare at the decorative wrought iron gates, the barrier between me and the lush lawns, manicured trees, and white stone mansions with their colossal columns and wrap-around balconies. Even though many of the French colonial manors were being remodeled, I could still envision a lady of the house resting on a red velvet chaise lounge in the cool of the day, full of pampered self-absorption.
That was why it felt so odd that two neurosurgeons who considered discussing surgical techniques foreplay were in a limousine and dressed for a party rooted in fifteenth-century Italy. I had to convince myself that swallowing a bite of Medici family lavishness and Southern extravagance wasn’t too ridiculous.
“This is a lot,” I whispered.
He dipped his tongue into my mouth and kissed me again. Then Jake’s teeth delicately captured my lower lip as he slid his tongue across it. “You deserve more,” he replied breathlessly.
I wondered why he thought so as I gently sucked my bottom lip into my mouth to taste him.
“You’re frowning,” he said, his brow furrowed.
“It’s just…” I sighed. I didn’t want to overthink it or be a Debbie Downer.
“You don’t believe you deserve more?” he asked.
“No more than anyone else,” I replied, happy to get that off my chest.
“To me, you deserve the world,” he said, gazing into my eyes.
I tilted my head and narrowed my eyes suspiciously. “You speak like a man with a lot of money. Are you a man with a lot of money, Jake Sparrow?”
He chortled as he smirked. “I spend where I find it necessary.”
Oh, that was smooth.And the fact that I was so captivated by his gaze made me not want to call him on it.
I asked him how his surgeries had gone, and he said that they went well. He’d almost lost a patient, but the person on his operating table fought like hell to stay with us. But any conversation about work couldn’t last long on such a night. I put a hand on his strong chest, and his lips found mine.
I wanted to know if he was as aroused as I was, so I let my hand slide down his abs and gently caress his dick. Damn, he was as solid as a steel pipe.
Something flashed in his eyes as I shifted my hand up and down his shaft. He took in a deep breath through his nostrils before putting his hand on top of mine.
“Later, baby. I don’t want to cut our night short.” His voice was made thick by lust.
I wiggled my eyebrows, peering at him suggestively. “I’m always game for turning the car around and spending the rest of the evening in bed with you.”
He shook his head. “I want to dance with you tonight,” he said then kissed me softly. “Even though…” He took a gentle breath. “That offer is so fucking hard to refuse. I’ve been thinking about you all day long. And whenever I look at you, my neurons tell my body that I must have you. That’s never happened to me before.”
“Have you ever been in love?” I had never been in love, yet I felt the same way he did.
His brow pulled into an intense frown. “Once.”
I gulped, instantly feeling a pinch of jealousy. It was silly, but I felt it regardless. “With whom?”
“A woman who was in love with my brother.”
I tried to control the way my eyes wanted to dance. He had just revealed something personal to me, and I didn’t want him to realize it and go back to being overly secretive. Instead, I smiled flirtatiously. “Then I’m the second woman your neurons have reacted to.”
“No,” he said immediately. “I didn’t feel the same for her. My love for her was not sexual or romantic. It was born from…”
I hung on to his every word, but it seemed as if he was struggling to continue whatever he was thinking.
“Born from?” I asked, gently encouraging him to speak what was on his mind.
