Page 374 of One More Kiss

Side by side we amble toward a side exit of the hospital. Silent. Doctors and nurses run around the emergency department, doing their jobs, but he’s right by my side. Even as someone tells him he’s got a trauma coming in.

“I should let you get back.”

The automatic doors shut behind us, thrusting us into the balmy summer Boston air.

But in a flash, I’m pressed up against the brick wall, his body pinning me, his mouth hovering a centimeter over mine.

“Not yet.”

His mouth lands on mine, his hands up in my hair as he kisses me. My lips part, desperate and hungry as I moan into him. Like a deranged woman with no self-control, one leg hikes up his hip while my hand drags along his chest and arms. I wanted his lips back on me since the second I… well, since the second I left his home early Saturday morning.

Denial only works so well.

“Delaney—”

My name being groaned into my mouth sets me off and suddenly I’m yanking on the drawstring of his scrub pants with my good hand and gripping his hard cock.

“Fuck. What are you doing? Anyone can see us.”

Don’t I know it.

But that doesn’t stop me. I start pumping him in my fist, crazed that I can’t fall to my knees and suck him blind right here. “I want to make you come.”

“Jesus.”

“Please.”

His hand flies up the front of my dress, ripping at my panties and shoving them aside. Suddenly his fingers are inside me, pumping into me, and I’m wet all over him.

“That what you want?”

“Yes.” It’s a fucking moan to end all moans. It’s a thank all that is holy moan.

“This isn’t going to be enough for me. I told myself it was. That Friday night had to be it. But seeing you again today? Touching and kissing and smelling you. I need more. I can’t get enough, I have to have more.”

“Me too,” I pant into him. Kissing at his mouth as I jerk him off in my hand. All the while his fingers masterfully play with and torture my pussy.

Sirens sing out in the distance, and I know that’s for him. He does too as he ups his pace, bringing his thumb in on this game as he rubs it against my swollen clit.

“I want you to come,” he tells me.

“Then you better make me.”

He pumps faster and faster, rubs circles around my clit. The noise is wet and sloppy and there are people in the not-too-far distance from us. I jerk his hard cock toward me, twisting my wrist and rubbing my thumb along his tip, toying with his slit and precum and I want more. So much more. I want to rip his clothes from his body and take his balls in my mouth. I want to lick every line and crevice and ridge of his abs and chest. But in return, I want his mouth and hands all over me. The way they were Friday night.

“I’m going to come,” I warn him seconds before I do. Shaking and writhing and trembling and suffocating my moans and whimpers as my face plants into his shoulder.

“That’s it. You’re coating my fingers. That’s so fucking hot. I’m going to suck them clean after I come all over your hand.”

“Yes!” I cry.

And then he’s coming. Hard. Straight into my palm with a grunt and a growl and my name. It’s all over his tongue. He spurts his hot cum on my dress, and I know I’m going to need to change before I return to work. I’ll blame it on the blood.

We sag, both of us panting and laughing. Simultaneously, we catch the other’s gaze with matching oh shit, what did we just do wide eyes. He pulls his fingers from my pussy and sucks at them. Just as he said he would and my insides spasm one final time.

“I said it would just be Friday. But how do you feel about meeting me again tomorrow night?”

“Where?” I’m hardly breathing. Wanting this more than I can remember wanting anything in such a long time. Maybe it’s the naughty taboo of it. Or maybe it’s just that it’s been so long since I’ve had sex this good. Or maybe it’s just him. Silas. He makes my knees weak with his smile and a pop of dimples.

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