by Kendall Ryan
“You can have her, buddy. Good fucking luck!” Daniel called, already stomping down the steps and back toward his car.
Once inside, Cannon turned on the light in the foyer, tilting my chin and inspecting me carefully.
“Christ,” he swore under his breath. I could see the tick in his jaw as he bit down, his gaze still tracing my form. “Does this hurt?” He pressed a spot on my forehead.
I shook my head, dislodging his hand. “No, really, I’m fine. It’s just a little bloody nose.”
“Come sit down.” Taking my hand, he led me into the living room and stood over me while I lowered myself onto the couch.
“Don’t you have to get to work?” I asked.
He was dressed in his scrubs, baby blue this time, and damn, the man even made drawstring pants look sexy. The cotton shirt had the slightest V-neck—just a notch, really—but the smooth, tanned skin and hollow of his throat visible in that notch was everything. That tiny peek, that tease of bare skin, was a million times sexier than all of Daniel’s bland flirting combined. I wanted to lick it, suck on it, sniff it . . .
Holy shit, Paige, calm down. I hadn’t felt so out of control since I was a teenager. I seriously needed to get a grip—and no, not on Cannon’s dick. But my hormones held me hostage. I couldn’t help but watch his butt flex as he retreated to the bathroom.
Seconds later, he returned with a box of tissues, withdrew several, and handed them to me. “Yes, but first I need to be sure you’re okay. I’m not leaving for the night when you could have a concussion.”
I snorted, holding a wad of tissue against my nose. “I don’t have a concussion. It was nothing. Clumsiness combined with wine and a dash of self-preservation.”
He sat down beside me, stroking my cheek softly. “Are you telling me the truth? You just bumped heads? He didn’t . . . ?”
I tried to nod and shake my head at the same time. “He tried to kiss me and I panicked.”
“Why did you panic?” Cannon’s gaze was hard and locked on mine.
His attention felt amazing, the rough pads of his fingertips, the worry in his eyes. I wanted to stay in this moment forever. My heart thumped steadily under his concerned gaze. If this was what it was like to be a patient of Dr. Cannon Roth, sign me the fuck up.
I swallowed. “I didn’t want to kiss him. I only went out on that stupid date because . . .”
“Because why?” His posture was tense, but his words were soft.
Because he wasn’t you. Because I’m more hung up on you than I have any right to be.
I swallowed. “Because we never got to finish what we started.”
“We didn’t get to fuck, so you moved on and now you’re dating.”
His direct eye contact was too much, and I found my gaze drifting to the floor between my feet. God, when he said it like that, I sounded like an asshole.
“We dodged a bullet, right?” I meant it to sound calm and certain, but my voice came out shakier than I intended. Clearing my throat, I started again. “We got interrupted. We never even officially had sex, and now we can both move on. It would have been a huge mistake, and besides, according to you, I would have fallen hopelessly in love with you and it would have ended terribly.”
“If you’re too much of a pussy to finish what we started, fine by me, but don’t equate us getting interrupted to dodging a bullet. It would have been fun, and you know it.”
My cheeks heated. Oh, did I ever. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him once. The way he’d felt with his muscular frame atop mine, the restrained power in his hips when he pressed forward the slightest bit, the way he hissed when he felt how tight I was . . . I shivered just thinking of it.
“Is this what you really want? To date some schmuck you met online?” Cannon asked.
“Yes. It’s what I really want.” It was a lie. A total fucking lie that felt bitter on my tongue.
As much as I craved the perks that came with a relationship—affection, intimacy, support, sex—I was even more terrified about giving my heart to anyone. What if they turned out to be like James, and I ended up destroyed in the end?
But I wouldn’t say that to Cannon. He had been a fun fling, a distraction, but he couldn’t be anything more. He had grand plans he needed to focus on, and Allie would never stand for it. Besides, I was about ninety-nine percent sure that Cannon was not at all interested in a steady girlfriend.
His hand fell away from my cheek, and his full lips parted as he appraised me. “I can’t have you going out with a man who doesn’t know how to properly kiss a woman without it ending in a bloody nose.”
I should have said something snappy like, You don’t get to decide who I date. But what came out was, “That’s true.”
The blush on my cheeks spread. Not only did I feel like an idiot, but now Cannon knew just how much I was lusting after him—if he hadn’t known already. For a grown damned woman, I felt totally childish and immature.
“I’m going to be late to work. We’ll figure this out tomorrow.”
I nodded and watched him rise to his feet, my heart still galloping. Figure this out? Like his massive dick and my overly tight you-know-what coming together was some math equation.
He bent down and brushed one hand along my cheek. “You sure you’re okay?”
“I’ll be fine.” As soon as this shame and self-pity wears off.
With one last worried glance cast in my direction, Cannon nodded and headed for the door. “Call me if you need anything, and don’t forget to lock up.”
Placing my head in my hands, I let out a long sigh. I’d ruined the only date I’d had in over a year and rushed home for nothing. I still didn’t know where I stood with Cannon, and now I wasn’t going to find out.
Adulthood was just as shitty as everyone said. Except not if you were Cannon Roth. He still had that bright and shiny hope radiating from his emerald eyes. Belief that something great was out there on the horizon waiting for him—and maybe it was.
I wanted to bask in that feeling, to linger in his presence in the hope that some of his optimism and passion wore off on me. Because right now? My life was a total shit show.
Chapter Fourteen
Cannon
It shouldn’t have, but Paige going out on that date really pissed me off. I knew I had little right to be angry; she didn’t owe me anything, and I’d barely even seen her in the week since our near miss.
But I couldn’t help the jealous rage that boiled through my veins when I found her on the porch with that guy. And when I thought he’d hurt her? I wanted to pummel his face in. I still didn’t know if it was like she’d claimed, that they’d just bumped heads when he tried to kiss her, but Paige had never lied to me, as far as I knew.
On my drive to the hospital, I called to check on Allie, pleased that she’d kicked that scumbag James to the curb. My life these days consisted of obligations. I worked, slept, hit the gym, studied, checked in on my mom and sister, worked some more. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. I knew there was a purpose, knew there was a reason I was doing this, but fuck, some days it was hard to remember what that reason was.
Tonight the urge to stay home and make sure Paige was okay was stronger than ever. Just say fuck it to my never-ending responsibilities and hang out with someone who made me feel comfortable, at ease, and a whole lot turned on.
I wouldn’t push Paige for more, wouldn’t push her on the sex we were supposed to have. Did I want to finish what we started? Of course I did. Getting interrupted that night had almost killed me. Paige had been so hot, so tight, so responsive.
I wanted her. Badly. It didn’t help that I’d fantasized about having her for the last decade. Pulling out before I was even really inside her had been the worst form of torture imaginable. Everything inside me was screaming no from the second I’d heard that pounding at the door. Then less than a week after I’d had her in my bed, wet and eager, she was out on a date with some other guy.
But I had to suck it up and go to work. Eve
n though I knew tonight’s shift would crawl by, since I’d be counting the hours until I could see her this weekend.
Chapter Fifteen
Paige
A whispered voice at the edge of my bed woke me. “Paige?”
“Yeah?” I slurred, blinking in the darkness. The only light came from the hallway, casting the room in shadows.
Cannon’s shadowy form stood a few feet from where I slept. He said nothing, just crossed the room and sat beside me on the bed.
Groggy and confused, I lifted my head. “What time is it?”
“About one in the morning. We were overstaffed and slow, so they sent me home early.”
That didn’t explain what he was doing in my bedroom. I blinked at him slowly.
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he continued.
It took me a second to remember what had happened earlier. I’d gone on a date with Daniel the Douche and ended up with a bloody nose. It hadn’t hurt much, so the blood had surprised me.
“I’m fine,” I said.
Cannon’s warm palm found my cheek, and he brushed the hair back from my face. “Couldn’t sleep till I made sure you were all right.”
I swallowed, leaning into his touch, enjoying the way his strong fingers felt moving through my hair, stroking my scalp. Letting my eyes slip closed, I murmured something unintelligible, and Cannon chuckled.
“Just rest, princess. Sorry I woke you.”
I felt his lips on my forehead, and then the mattress shifted as he rose from the bed. Missing his warm, masculine touch almost immediately, I reached out toward him.
“Don’t go. Not yet,” I whispered.
Normally, I would have been too ashamed to say that. I would have forced myself to be an adult and let him leave. But deep in the night, in the pitch-black darkness, I could ask for what I wanted. I didn’t have to look at his face or worry about what he saw on mine. Nothing that happened between midnight and sunrise counted; I could hide behind the strange darkness that blanketed the world when everyone we knew was asleep. And in the daylight, I could write off this slipup as a dream.
He hesitated for the briefest of moments, and I moved over, making room in the bed.
Then he climbed in beside me, lying down on top of the covers, and in his calming presence, I fell back to sleep almost instantly.
Chapter Sixteen
Cannon
I woke up with a face full of hair and a massive erection. The hell?
Combing back the honey-colored tresses with my fingers, I blinked open one eye and saw that I was still in bed with Paige. I’d fallen asleep listening to her deep, steady breaths, enjoying the closeness long after I should have moved to my own room. It usually took me forever to unwind enough to fall asleep after a shift, but lying there in the darkness and listening to her breathe, I was able to break through the day’s tension and just relax.
But what had started innocently, with me on top of the blankets, somehow had ended with me stripped down to my boxer briefs and under the covers with Paige. I had no idea what time it was, only that it was barely daylight. The T-shirt she’d slept in had ridden up to expose her pink cotton panties printed all over with little donuts, complete with colorful sprinkles.
A wry smile tugged at my mouth. She was sexy without even trying. Most women weren’t sexy first thing in the morning, but there was no black makeup smeared under her eyes, no death-breath emanating from her in an unpleasant wave. There was nothing but soft, sweet female to worship and indulge in.
She stretched her long, toned legs under the blankets, letting out a squeak, then opened her eyes. “Morning, Cannon.”
“Hi, princess.”
“You stayed.” She smiled shyly.
I hadn’t meant to, honestly, but no way was I telling her that. I couldn’t stand to see that smile chased away just yet.
“Yeah, I fell asleep. Is that okay?” I rubbed one hand over my hair and smiled back at her.
“I didn’t take you for the cuddling type.”
“I can be.” I’d never been the type to sleep over or cuddle before in my life. But I didn’t want to think about that right now. “Come here.” I opened my arms, urging her closer, and Paige lifted the corner of the sheet to slide over.
Then she jerked back. “Shit.”
“What is it?” I followed her gaze down to my crotch. Christ! My cock was so hard and eager, standing so tall, that he was peeking at her from the top of my briefs.
Her shy smile fell away, and she bit her lip.
“Ignore it. Come here,” I said again, encouraging her.
She obeyed, cautiously scooting closer until her body was against mine.
“Is that just a normal biological thing, or are you turned on right now?” she asked, her voice hesitant.
“A little of both?”
I was turned on as fuck, but I didn’t want to scare her away or have her thinking I was going to stuff her full of all eight inches . . . unless she was damn sure that was what she wanted. And after last night, I had no idea if it was.
Uneasy laughter was followed by a pat to my chest. “Okay, Cannon.”
She snuggled closer, placing her head next to mine on the pillow, her body touching mine from shoulder to hip. I held her there, enjoying the feel of her warm softness. Perfection.
I wondered if she was thinking the same thing I was. This was the first time we’d been together since our failed attempt at sex.
“I’m actually a little hungry,” I admitted, gripping her hip and tugging her ass back until my dick was nestled right between those soft, plump cheeks.
She let out a strangled noise.
“For donuts,” I continued, enjoying this way too much.
“D-donuts?” she stuttered. I didn’t know if she was thinking about the fact that I usually ate healthy, or was remembering the panties she wore.
The hand I’d rested on her hip drifted lower, and I rubbed my thumb over the fabric of her panties. She looked down and awareness blossomed in her.
“Can I have a taste, princess?”
I wouldn’t do a damn thing without her consent. If she wanted this as badly as I did, she was going to have to tell me. I needed her words. Needed to know she was dying for this like I was. Only then would I cross the line we could never uncross.
“I . . . I haven’t showered.”
The meaning behind her words hit me like a punch to the gut, and for the briefest of moments, I got angry. I wasn’t sure what kind of men she’d been with before, or if they’d made her feel self-conscious about her scent or taste. But her sentiment was foreign to me. No man would ever stop his girl from blowing him because he thought his cock wasn’t worthy of her mouth. No, he’d shove it down her eager throat, taking pleasure in the way his musk marked her. If she wanted him dirty, then by God, she would have him.
Did Paige really have such deep hang-ups about her body . . . or was it because she was afraid of displeasing me specifically?
I took a deep breath through my nostrils, forcing myself to calm down. It didn’t really matter why she’d shied away. It was my duty to reassure her. To show her that she had no reason to be ashamed. Paige might be a few years older, but it had become obvious that I was the more experienced of us two.
“I don’t give a shit about that.” I turned her face toward mine and pressed a kiss to her lips. Her eyes were drunk with lust. I moved down the bed, tugging the sheet with me, until I was eye level with those playful panties.
I pressed my nose against the juncture between her thighs and inhaled sharply. Her scent made my mouth water and my cock throb. “Fuck, you smell good, princess.”
She let out a soft groan. Her hips twitched up, reflexively seeking more.
Deciding I needed a lot more than just her moans, I sat up and placed one hand on the column of her throat, stroking the hollow there and meeting her wide gaze. I needed to know what she was thinking. “When I fuck you with my tongue, there will be no holding back from either of us.�
��
Her pupils were dilated and her lips parted. She looked beautiful like this, vulnerable and very much turned on, and I hadn’t even done anything yet other than accidentally flash her the tip of my cock.
“I want you to tell me everything you’re thinking, everything you’re feeling. Do you understand?”
She gave me a quick nod.
I shook my head. “Use your words, beautiful.”
“Yes. I understand.”
“Good girl.”
I lowered my head again and placed my mouth over her panties in a firm kiss. Tasting those donuts, just like I’d promised.
“Jesus, Cannon.” She squirmed.
Planting my hands firmly on her hips, I held her in place. “You’re not going anywhere, not until I get my fill.”
She raised herself on one elbow, her eyes wide, almost frightened.
I mouthed over her panties, letting her feel the heat of my breath, but nothing more. It wasn’t what she needed, and she let me know by whining in frustration.
“Lift up,” I murmured.
She raised her hips. I slowly slid her panties down over her hips, her thighs, letting my fingertips trail over the curve of her calves as I went. When my eyes met tender pink flesh, I sucked in a breath.
“You have a beautiful vagina.” I parted her with my thumb, stroking softly. Her lips were already plump and flushed, glistening wet with arousal. My mouth watered with desire. I was so hungry to taste her—but I had to be patient. I had to make her tell me what she wanted.
She pressed her palms over her eyes. “Oh my God, did you just say that?”
I brushed my lips against her center, leaving a chaste kiss—well, as chaste as a kiss there could be. In my line of work, I had seen a lot of women who were uncomfortable even saying the words for their own body parts. But they shouldn’t be. Especially not Paige.
“Yes, and I meant it. A perfectly plump little clit, cute pink labia, delicious scent.” I kissed her again, this time letting my tongue slide over her swollen bud.
