by Carly Keene
EIGHT
June
It feels like the kissing lasts forever, just kissing, but then we’re on the bed and I’m pulling his shirt off, kissing his chest. He’s sliding his tongue over my collarbone and down inside my robe to the upper slopes of my breasts, while his hand makes slow lazy circles on the skin just above my knee. It feels like flying, like gliding in the air. So easy and natural and so very sexy.
And then I unzip his jeans, gasping at the sight of his cock straining against his boxers. I’ve never seen one so big.
“Don’t worry,” he says, and pulls my robe down to expose my boobs. “We’ll go slow.” And then his mouth is on my nipple while his other hand is on my other breast, and I’m moaning again, stroking that monster cock through his underwear with both hands and praying it will fit. There’s no pretending I’m not going to fuck him. I want him so, so badly.
I pull the robe the rest of the way open.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says, and then he pretty much devours me. Neck, breasts, belly, and down to my secret places, where he pushes my thighs apart so gently and kneels between them, to feast on my ladyparts. “Ah, you’re so wet.” He was right: judging by the way he’s licking my clit, he likes the C. It’s a light touch, rhythmic and just the right speed, and his long fingers feel so good inside my pussy, and what feels like no time at all I’m exploding in pleasure, fireworks at the back of my closed eyes.
When I can breathe again, I open them to see him still kneeling between my thighs, those wicked dark eyes of his alight with amusement. “I knew you’d be like this,” he says.
“What, easy?” I ask, a little stunned at how fast we got here.
“Alive,” he says, and the sound of his voice sends another wave of arousal through me. “You want another orgasm like that one?”
I sit up and reach for him. “I want one with your cock inside me this time.”
He shivers, eyes closing briefly. Then he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. “I bought condoms.”
“I’m on the pill.”
If I thought his eyes were hot before, I was wrong. Now they’re blazing like black suns, and my hips wriggle in anticipation. “I’m clean,” he says hoarsely. “They test us regularly at work.”
There’s no going back from here. “Finlay—I’ve never done it without a condom, but we’re safe. I just want to feel you. Please.”
We pull his jeans down over his hips, and I grab the waistband of his boxers. His cock sort of leaps out into my hands, and I moan without meaning to. He really is huge, hard as rock under the tender skin. I lean forward to take the head into my mouth. Fin groans. “No, baby, stop. I won’t last if you do that.”
He pushes me gently onto my back and bends to play with my clit again, blowing on it and then licking it while he slides two fingers inside me. It feels so good, and I thrust my hips up against him. “You want another?” he asks, voice hoarse. I nod, and he adds a third finger to the two inside.
“Oh god,” I cry out, as my need ratchets desperately high. “Now, please!” And then the universe explodes in fireworks again, and he holds me through it. As my pussy spasms slow, I reach for his big beautiful beast of a cock, and line it up with my entrance.
Some evil memory says, Bigdong, inside my head, and I laugh out loud. And then he’s inching it inside me, and every millimeter of my interior walls is alive with sexual delight. It feels like we’re so together, fitting like yin and yang, and it feels so fucking good. It feels so incredibly fucking good that with just a few minutes of his long slow strokes, his hot kisses, I’m exploding in fireworks yet again. His back stiffens under my hands, and he cries out against my neck, and then I feel a hot stream inside my cunt.
I don’t know how it could feel hot, when every part of us is body temperature. But it does. “Wow,” I say.
“You can say that again,” he mutters against my neck.
So I do. “Wow.”
I feel the rumble of his quiet laughter. “Yeah,” he says, and then rolls us to the side and kisses my forehead. “For the record, I don’t usually go off prematurely. It’s just been a long time. And I feel like the foreplay has lasted a whole week.”
I nod. I kiss his mouth again. We’re quiet. He snuggles us into a more comfortable position.
“The minute I saw you,” he says, like he’s thinking.
“Really? I don’t even remember what I was wearing at Lonnie’s.”
“Oh, I didn’t notice the clothes,” he says drily.
“Well, what did you notice?” I prop my head up on his hard chest.
He laughs. “Your ass.”
“Oh, you’re an ass man, huh? It’s a good thing I’ve got all this ass, then.”
He reaches back with one hand and smacks me lightly. “It’s a damn good thing.” Then he sighs. “I know I’m too old for you. I just don’t care.”
“No, you’re not,” I say reflexively. Then, “Wait. How old are you?”
“Thirty-five. And you’re twenty-three. I mean, assuming Wade didn’t lie on his hospital paperwork and you’re the same age. People will call me a cradle-snatcher.”
“No,” I say, and trace little hearts on his chest. “That’s only half a generation. You’re not old enough to be my dad or anything.”
“We probably like different music,” he says. “All your friends will call me Grandpa.”
I raise my head and stare into his eyes. “Are you looking for a reason to dump me, now that you’ve fucked me into the best sex I have ever had in my entire life?”
“What? No. No.” His hands tighten on me. “No, I’m just trying to remind myself that it might not work out.”
“I don’t see why it wouldn’t,” I say. “You like Wade. You’re divorced long enough ago that I’m not a rebound girl. You’re not a serial killer.”
“That you know of,” he says.
“I imagine the hospital would be really surprised if you were.” He snorts. “No, seriously, Fin. Why wouldn’t it? We like each other. We’re both responsible adults. We’re really attracted.”
He doesn’t answer me for several minutes, and now I’m getting nervous. What hasn’t he told me? Finally he sighs. “It was my fault Becky left me.”
NINE
Finlay
It hurts to talk about Becky and the mistakes I made, to be honest. But I realize that’s kind of the point: being honest.
I begin to stroke June’s silky hair. It’s still wet, and all that writhing she was doing while I was eating her out must have messed it up, but it’s so soft. “I fucked up being married.”
“Did you cheat on her?” She sounds cautious.
“No. Never. But then I really never had the time to.” I stop and consider. “Unless you say that I was cheating on her with my job.”
“I don’t get that.”
“We met when I had one year of med school left,” I explained, “and she’d been out of college for a year, had just gotten started on her career. We were both working a lot. But I think I didn’t realize that she expected us to spend time together whenever we weren’t working, and I think she expected I’d have one of those general practices where you go into the office at 8 and go home by 6, and only in rare cases would you be called out after hours.”
“You didn’t do that, I guess.”
“I needed money to pay off my student loans. They were big. I couldn’t ask my parents for more. And hospital ERs pay pretty well. They have to, because they demand a lot in terms of physicians’ time. Night hours, long shifts, stressful work. But before long, I found that I really loved it. And it wasn’t hard to take another shift when somebody asked me to. I was learning a lot, I was making a lot, I was paying off my loans as fast as I could.”
“But she hated it that you were gone all the time?” June asks. She’s writing something on my chest with her fingers. Drawing something, maybe.
“Yes.” I sigh. “And I never noticed, until she told me she wanted a divorce. She said I was
n’t emotionally available, and clearly I didn’t care about her, which she said she finally realized after she started hanging out with Todd. Todd loved her, she said. Todd wanted to be with her all the time, while I obviously cared more about my career.
“And I said stuff I really didn’t mean. Like, didn’t she care that I was making us a financial future? Like, I had no idea that she was such a bitch and only cared about herself.”
“Mm,” June says. I realize that she’s drawing little hearts on my skin. Which is really sweet.
“And then she said that she’d never minded paying the bills. She said what she really minded was not having a husband. That I was never home and she felt alone all the time.”
June nods, slowly.
“You’d feel like that, too?”
“I’d want you. I wouldn’t care about the bills,” she says.
I kiss her. “I finally got it, when she said that. I told her I could change. I could slow down my work schedule, I could be home more. But she said it was too late.”
June strokes a hand over my hair. “Ouch. So just when you were ready to change, she was done?”
“Yeah. I sort of pitched a fit and demanded to know why she didn’t tell me she was that unhappy before she went out and found somebody else. I was pretty much a bastard about it, actually.”
June sits up, and her glorious full breasts sway with the motion. It’s getting increasingly hard to concentrate on what I’m saying to her, because she’s so beautiful and so naked. “You were upset,” she says. “I don’t think it was quite fair. Of either of you, actually. You didn’t pay attention, and she wasn’t honest.”
I nod. “And she wasn’t loyal,” I say in a voice that doesn’t sound like mine. “I made a big mistake, yeah. But I didn’t do it to hurt her. And she betrayed me anyway.”
I lean up and kiss one breast, then the other. The whole bedroom smells like our warm bodies and her perfume and our sex. It’s intoxicating.
“I’d never do that,” June says softly.
“I know,” I say. “I know you. And I’d never be such an asshole to you, either. I finally learned about how to be married.”
“I’d want to be married someday. Not yet, but—well, someday.”
I kiss her breasts again. “Want to practice?”
“Mm-hm,” she says, a smile in her voice. “Can we start with me sucking your cock?”
Just like that, it’s at full attention again, thinking of how her sweet mouth felt on me. “Oh shit yeah.” My head clonks back against the headboard as she goes down on me, stroking my shaft and playing with my balls while she takes as much of me into her hot mouth as she can. And when she looks up at me with her mouth full, I have to stop her before I blow a wad. It’s that erotic.
I’m thirty-five. I can’t go nonstop the way I could when I was twelve years younger. That means the game plan is for lots of foreplay and lots of making her come first, and I am looking forward to it.
“Bring your pussy up here,” I tell her, and slide down a little farther so I can reach up and tongue her pussy, pinch her clit lightly with my fingers.
“This is really—oh. Oh god yes. Oh fuck.”
I get lost in those sweet pink folds, flicking that little button of hers until her pussy clamps down on my hand and she climaxes again. I pull her down my body, holding my cock at the right angle for her to impale herself on. As her cunt takes me in, the heat and wetness of it overwhelms me, and I have to reach down and squeeze my balls. “Fuck, you feel so good, baby. Oh, June.”
As she gets accustomed to my length, she winds up sort of grinding her hips against me, giving her clit stimulation. I reach down to help with that, and it isn’t long before she’s crying out, screaming my name, her sweet pussy clenching down on me with her orgasm. And then she’s riding me hard, taking almost all of my length, and I can feel the little bump of her cervix, the opening to her womb. The thought of fucking a baby into her suddenly occurs, and it is suddenly the fucking sexiest thing I have ever imagined, thinking of my June Rose swelling with my seed, our baby. “Mine,” I growl, and reach up to lick her nipples. She cries out, and then she is coming again, and I can’t hold back, I fill her with jet after jet of my hot sperm.
I want her again. I want more. I can’t wait to be capable again.
“I love how you feel inside me,” she gasps against my chest. “And I think I love you.”
I love you too.
I gather her up in my arms. “You’re sure I’m not too old for you.”
“I’m sure.”
“And it’s not too soon for us to feel like this.”
“It’s probably too soon,” she admits. “I just feel like I know, already.”
“Well,” I say, happier than I ever thought I could be. “Let’s just live like this for a while, and see if we feel like making it forever.”
She raises her head to kiss me, and says something like, “big long,” and “you mythical beast.”
“What?”
June laughs. “Never mind.”
EPILOGUE
Finlay, two months later
I’m nervous.
I mean, I had lunch with Wade last week and told him what I was thinking. And then I swore him to absolute secrecy and threatened to castrate him if he spilled the beans. He crossed his heart and hoped to die, all dramatic, but his eyes were serious. “You love her,” he said.
“Yeah. Ride or die, you know?”
He blinked. Then smiled. “Well, she deserves that.”
“And she’s gonna get it.”
We shook hands. I felt like that was as much permission as I was going to get, and maybe all I needed.
So now I’m here outside Halo, and the backseat of my five-year-old Toyota is packed full of stuff for the evening. I booked a room at the Jefferson downtown, and made plans for room service. I went shopping at Amore Lingerie, too. Then I got Alison Sadler to call and ask for a 5 p.m. appointment for some hair treatment that would last a long time, and to insist that she needed it with June. This morning I told June that I had reservations at a nice restaurant after work, and if she could be ready at 7 when I came to pick her up, that’d be great.
“Sure,” she said, and kissed me. She tasted like vanilla wafers.
I’ve been on pins and needles all day.
I’m nervous, and I’m not. Because it’s my girl June Rose, on both counts.
The clock ticks over to 5:03, and I know that inside, June’s probably wondering why her 5 p.m. appointment is late. I check my pockets.
It’s go time.
I step in and have a word with Makayla, the shop owner. I hand her the cash for June’s appointment, because I don’t want her to miss out on work opportunities just because I got a wild hair to give her a little vacation. From the back of the room, Wade winks at me.
“Hey,” June says, coming up to hug me. “Ooh, you look nice. And you smell nice.” She leans up for a kiss. “You’re a little early. Want to hang out while I give a perm?”
“I don’t think you have a perm,” I say, trying to keep a lid on my smirk.
“Sure I do. Makayla, what’s her name again?”
“Alison Sadler.”
“Yeah,” I say. “You don’t remember Dr. Sadler?” She blinks. “That I work with? Who diagnosed Wade’s appendicitis by sticking her finger in McBurney’s spot and making him scream?”
“Oh,” she says blankly. Then, “Oh. Her?”
“She canceled,” I say. “So you get me instead.”
She puts her hands on her hips and looks me up and down, one eyebrow raised. It’s sexy as hell. “You don’t need a perm.”
“No, I don’t. I don’t even need a haircut.” I grin at her.
“That’s because I cut your hair last week. In your kitchen.”
“Yep.” My grin gets bigger. “So it looks like you’re free for the rest of the day. Go change, if you want.” I know she doesn’t like to go out in her work clothes if she can help it. She shoots me a susp
icious glare, but then she disappears into the back room.
“Let me see it,” Wade says, and winks at me again, holding out his hand.
“No.”
“Oh, come on.”
“No. Do you really think you deserve first look at it?”
Wade shrugs. “Worth a shot, anyway.” I roll my eyes, but I can’t help smiling at him. He’s smiling back. “Ride or die.”
“Absolutely.”
When my June Rose comes out of the back, she’s wearing a silky blue dress that makes her eyes look really warm, and clings to every curve like it loves them. I whistle at her, and she grins. “You clean up nice, yourself, Dr. Gunn.”
“That’s Doc McKnife, to you. Are you ready?”
She pulls her jacket off the hook and turns back to me. “Sure.”
“Oh, you dropped this.” I go to one knee, pulling the box out of my pocket. “June Rose?”
She gasps.
“Will you marry me and be my forever girl?”
Tears spill down her cheeks, but she’s smiling too. “Oh, Finlay,” she says. “Oh, Fin. Yes. A million times yes.”
Ride or die. And I’ll die happy.
ALISON
Heart Doctors Book 5
CARLY KEENE
THISTLE KNOLL PUBLISHING
For the OG Critique Group, because.
ONE
Dr. Alison Sadler
“Hey, hon!” the voice blares out of my cell phone the second I answer it, and my mood instantly gets better.
“Leilani! Where are you?”
“Turn around.”
I twist around in my seat at Everything on Toast, and there she is, peering in the window and waving at me. I point to the table I’ve snagged, and she comes in, straight to me to give me a hug. Heads turn, following her progress, because Leilani is model-gorgeous. Despite her exotic looks, she’s a lawyer in Virginia Beach, two hours’ drive away.
