by Katy Connor
Detangling myself from his arms, I slowly cross the floor, swaying my hips before stopping and looking at him over my shoulder. “Come shower with me, Tal,” I order with as much seductive innuendo as I can. “And I’ll think about it.”
He grins.
And then charges at me.
A giggling squeal bursts from me, and I run for the shower.
It’s that or contemplate the possibility I could, indeed, fall in love with him.
…
Three weeks of the most intense, raw, horny sex of my life makes me realize I’m a goner.
Three weeks, two days, and twenty-one hours, to be exact.
I know because I’ve counted them. Counting how long it’s been since Tal heard me moaning his name on my balcony is the only way I’ve kept myself sane. The only way I’ve kept myself from blurting out that what I feared could happen has, in fact, happened. Goddamn it.
For the last three weeks, two days, and twenty-one hours, we’ve been going at it like rabbits.
Okay, not every hour. Some of those hours have been spent curled up on my sofa or his, watching television, talking about the books we both like, sharing a bottle of wine or two.
The problem is, those hours—hours spent just existing with each other—are as good as the hours we spend making l—
No. I can’t say the L word, not even in that context. It’s too…daunting. Even if I know that’s what’s going on; that I’ve gone and fallen in—
No. No. No. Not going to say it.
But oh boy, all those hours fucking each other, all those hours just being with each other, all those hours naked together, clothed together, in our condos together, in whatever restaurant we decided to eat in together… All those days and hours.
Three weeks, two days, twenty-one hours, and forty-two minutes.
Goddamn it, I am in love with him.
Oh no. What do I do? I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t want this to happen. It wasn’t my plan.
Should have stop seeing him, then. Should have stopped kissing him, touching him. Should have stopped—
“How do you want your eggs?”
I pull my blank stare from my closet—What was I getting dressed for again? Oh yeah, that’s right. Work—and smile over my shoulder. Can he tell I’m freaking out? “Poached.”
He’s leaning against the doorframe of my bedroom, lips curled in a relaxed smile. “Poached it is.” He runs a slow gaze over my naked body, and I can’t help but catch my breath.
I know that look. I’ve seen it every day. Happens right before he takes me to sexual heaven and back.
The sensible thing to do right now would be to tell him I’m running late. The sane thing to do would be to tell him not to come around tonight when he finishes work at the hospital. I’ve got to shut this down, after all. It’s all fun and games until some poor idiot gets their heart broken, and I’m 99.5 percent certain that poor idiot’s going to be me.
The logical thing to do right now is tell him to leave.
I turn back to my open closet. Okay, I can do this. I can do—
Warm hands smooth around my waist, and I melt into Tal’s hard body.
Goddamn it, I’m screwed.
“How many times did I make you come this morning?” he murmurs against the side of my neck, his lips nuzzling and nipping at my skin.
“Tw-twice,” I breathe. A ripple of anticipation tightens my nipples.
He chuckles, one hand capturing my right breast as his other hand smooths down over my belly to the curve of my sex. His fingers lightly stroke the hood of my clit. “Not enough.”
“Twice is not enough?” I ask, rolling my hips. Right at that moment in time, I want him to touch me there more than I want breath.
“Nope.” He kisses a path down the side of my neck, to the curve of my shoulder, his fingers rolling over my clit and my nipple in exquisite harmony. “Not even close.”
If you let him make love to you now, you’ll never be able to walk away from—
I shut down the little voice in my head. What does it know? Stupid voice.
“Then you better do something about that,” I suggest, parting my thighs a fraction, allowing him easier access.
He moans, returning his lips to the side of my throat as he sinks two fingers into my sex. “So ready for me,” he murmurs.
“Always,” I admit. I’m not lying. I’m ready for him every minute of every day.
“Fuck, beautiful.” He slides his fingers deeper into me as he moves his lips up to my ear. “How did I live before you—”
I turn in his arms and kiss him silent. I’m already in too deep. I won’t survive him making me feel like it’s mutual.
Without hesitation, he hauls me off my feet, holding me hard against his body. I wrap my legs around his hips, not in the least bit self-conscious about it. I stopped being worried about how heavy I was, what I might look like naked, with him weeks ago.
When I’m with him, nothing matters except how incredible he makes me feel. How amazing I feel. It’s like I’ve finally allowing myself to be free, to be me.
Another reason to love him.
Shit, I need to stop thinking of the L word.
I tighten my legs and arms around him and sink even deeper into our kiss.
He moans his approval and carries me to my bed, unceremoniously dumping me on it. Laughing, I grab at him and pull him down on top of me. He doesn’t moan this time; he growls as he snares my wrists and pins them to the mattress beside my head.
“I fucking love it when you take charge.”
My heart skips a beat. How do I survive him using that word?
Fuck him silent.
I throw myself into the plan. It’s good one.
Before he can react, I flip him onto his back and straddle his hips, kissing him as I roll my groin against his. He’s rock-hard and fully erect, his cock trapped by his chinos. I tug his fly down and release his erection without tearing my lips from his.
He fists a fierce hand in my hair as I take his cock in my own tight grip.
It pulses in my hand, demanding action.
Without hesitation, I seal my lips around his cock and slide my mouth down his length, sucking the whole way.
“Holy, fuck!” He slams his hips upward, driving himself deeper into my mouth.
I hum my approval around his erection, and chuckle—mouth full—as he groans. “Fuck, that’s intense.”
I don’t give him any mercy until the shudders begin in his body. When I’ve brought him to the very edge, I release his cock with a pop and scramble up his body to nip at his bottom lip.
“Condom,” I whisper, all too aware how close the head of his cock is to my sex.
We’ve gone through so many packets of them I’m surprised Walgreens has any left in stock. As always, the thought of him thrusting into me, the craving need for his bare skin sliding against mine, almost overwhelms me.
An unreadable emotion flares in his eyes as he gazes up at me. “Do we have to?”
My heart smashes into my throat and I grow still, my stare locked on his.
Do we have to?
“I’m clean, I mean,” he says, the words quick. “Fuck. I didn’t want to scare you. I just…being inside you…without anything between us…” He swallows, brows knitting. “I trust you, Bia. More than anyone I’ve ever—”
I shift my hips, part my pussy lips with the tip of his cock, and slowly impale myself entirely on his length.
Skin on skin.
Flesh to flesh.
“Fuuuck,” he groans, fingers digging into my hips. “Oh fuck, fuck yes.”
I close my eyes. Hold my breath. Wait for the intense rush of sensations to pass. If I don’t, I’ll come straight away, and I don’t want for this to be over in a hurry.
“Fuck,” he breathes, chest heaving, nostrils flaring. “I won’t be able…” He grits his teeth, a ragged laugh bursting from him. “I don’t… I don’t know how long I’ll—”
&nbs
p; I kiss him, sliding up his length to the rim of his crown before taking him all the way inside me again.
He groans into my mouth and grips my hips with more force, helping me find our rhythm. And holy crap, is it incredible.
We move as one, our bodies rocking against each other. Our kiss grows hungrier, more demanding. When the base of my spine begins to tingle and the soles of my feet do the same, I know I’m close.
I press my breasts harder to his chest, squeeze his cock with my inner muscles, and grip the hair on the top of his head, holding on, anchoring myself to him.
If I don’t, I’ll drown. I know before I even come, I’ll be swept away by it.
An exquisite, pleasurable death.
The tingling surges through me. My body erupts in a wave of delicious heat. I shudder as my orgasm detonates… And then the world shatters as Tal comes with me.
I can feel his seed pumping through his cock, emptying into me.
I tear my lips from his, throwing back my head and crying out his name, clinging to his shoulders as the tsunami of pleasure and release destroys me.
“Yes,” I scream.
He slams his hips upward, thrusting deeper and deeper into my pussy, over and over, his rhythm growing erratic, savage. Almost wild.
“Bia,” he grounds out, his fingers clawing at my hips. “My Bia. Fuck, my Bia, I love…oh fuck, I love you. I love you.”
My eyes snap open at his groaned declaration.
I ride his cock, ride his release, coming with him, his hands on my body, his words roaring in my head…
I love you. I love you.
He loves me.
Just like I love him.
We milk each other’s bodies of pleasure, no more words spoken, until I can no longer hold myself upright.
Sated beyond measure, heart pounding, I slump onto him, burying my face into the side of his neck.
Holy crap. He loves me. He loves me.
What do I do? What do I do?
Tender fingers feather up and down the line of my spine. Inside me, his spent cock continues to spasm and pulse.
“Bia?” His voice is barely a whisper. “Bia, I didn’t—I hadn’t planned…”
Butterflies turning my stomach into a churning mess, I lift my head.
His Adam’s apple jerks up and down his throat, his eyes fixed on mine.
“To say that?” I laugh again. I’m so damn nervous I can barely breathe. “I can tell.”
“I…I…” I’ve never heard him sound the way he does, anxious and troubled. How could Tal Bernadi ever feel worried?
Because he didn’t mean it. He didn’t—
“Want to take it back?” I ask.
His smile curls a little more, but his eyes shimmer with a vulnerability that tears at my heart. “No fucking way.”
My heart hammers its way into my throat. I stare down at him.
He lets out a wobbly laugh. “I don’t expect you to feel the same. I don’t want you to feel pressured… Jesus, can I fuck this up any more?”
Smiling, I drop a soft kiss on his lips. “Tal, I know it makes no real sense, given we’d hardly spoken more than a hundred words to each other before you heard me…y’know—”
He chuckles, the sound low but still nervous.
I let out my own soft laugh. “Since you heard me doing that, but in the nearly seven months since I’ve been living next to you, everything I knew about you told me you’re amazing.”
“What did you know about me?”
“That you always stop to pet any dog that happens to be near you. That you take a moment of every morning to lift your face to the sun and just breathe. That you park your car on the street if someone else in the building has taken your spot, rather than make their life hell. That you leave walnuts out for the squirrels even though you think no one knows you do so.”
“My secret’s out, is it?” He looks sheepish, but still nervous.
I smile. “It is, I’m afraid. Although feeding squirrels is damn hot to an animal lover. You know that, right?”
He studies me.
With a shaky sigh, I cup the sides of his face. “Three weeks, two days, and twenty-something hours ago, I would have laughed at the idea I was in love with anyone. But then I forgot to close the balcony door, and you heard me.”
“I heard you,” he echoes, hands smoothing up and down my back before he brushes a knuckle over my cheek.
I close my eyes, my heart crazy. It’s now or never. Shy I may be, but I’ve never been a liar. “You knocked on my door and changed everything.” I open my eyes and gaze into his. Drown in them. “I love you, Tal. Completely and utterly.”
Chapter Nine
TAL
I stare at her, every fiber in my body thrumming in a way no medical knowledge could ever explain.
She loves me.
I feel complete on a level I never have before. Whole. I have worth. Perhaps I’ve been chasing that very thing my whole life? Perhaps I became a surgeon, a heart surgeon, because I’d never fully understood why my heart felt so empty?
I tug her down to me, roll her onto her back, and make love to her again. I can’t help it. She’s all I want in life now. It’s not just sexual obsession or primitive possession.
It’s more than that. A connection beyond my comprehension.
I love her. Completely. Beyond doubt. Irreversibly.
If anyone had asked me a month ago if I’d be in love, I would have laughed in their face. Letting someone into your heart was for the weak. My abusive bipolar father taught me that, mentally, physically, and emotionally. But Bia is in my heart now, and I couldn’t be happier.
Work for me that day passes in a blur. Thankfully I had no surgeries scheduled and no emergencies to attend. I hurry home, back to my condo, at the end of the day, to find Bia waiting at her door.
A secretive smile pulls at her lips as I press my palms to the doorframe either side of her head.
“What are you smiling about?” I ask on a whisper before dipping in for a quick kiss.
She laughs against my lips, takes one of my hands, places it on her inner thigh just below her skirt’s hem, and slides it up higher.
“Oh.” I stroke my fingers over her naked pussy, my blood surging into my dick. “That.”
We don’t even make it into her place before I’ve got her naked and she’s got my cock in her hand.
Much later, we order pizza and turn on Netflix, and she attempts to describe the weird show with the eighties soundtrack she enjoys.
There’s no evidence of her shyness around me now, and I love it. She sits on the floor beside me, naked, a slice of cheese pizza in one hand, face animated as she talks about something called the Upside-Down and a secret government lab.
As much as I love hearing her talk, I eventually pluck the slice from her hand and make love to her again. There on the floor, while scary shit happens on the television.
At some point, we move back to her bedroom and I take her again. As she comes, I rim her anus with my spit-sodden thumb, pressing on her puckered back entry. The stimulation of the sensitive nerve endings there drives her over the edge, and she comes, loud and uninhibited. Fuck, I love it. I love her.
We fall asleep in her bed, our legs tangled, my hand covering one of her breasts.
She’s gone when I wake. The golden beams stretching through the windows and across the floor tell me it’s long past eight—her normal starting time for work.
I climb from her bed, snag a handful of sheet, and bring it up to my face. It smells of our fucking and makes my morning wood twitch. If she were here now I’d wake her by eating her out. And then, after she came on my face, I’d spread her thighs as wide as they could go and plant my cock into her wetness.
“Tomorrow morning,” I promise myself, heading for her shower.
I make it a long, cold one and then, after a quick towel dry, make my way to her kitchen. There’s a handwritten note on the counter, next to a plate on which sits what’s clearly a ho
me-baked blueberry muffin.
I pick up the muffin and take a bite as I read the note. I wasn’t wrong; Bia can cook.
Had to go to work. Animals waiting for me. I hope it’s okay I let you sleep in. See you tonight. B. xo
Finishing off the muffin, I pick up a nearby pen and jot her a response: Is it wrong of me to be jealous of the animals who get to see you all day? Be ready for me to fuck you senseless when you get home.
I lock her door, head into my own condo, and get ready for work myself.
Throughout the morning, as I complete reports, plan upcoming surgeries with Bennett, and discuss patients who may or may not need surgery with Scarlet, the thought of Bia keeps sidetracking me. As does the memory of her declaration—I love you. Three words I never wanted to hear anyone say to me. And yet the second she did, I never wanted to not hear her say them. Or say them more myself.
I really do love her.
Despite the shit I saw my father put my mother through—the emotional abuse, mental abuse; despite the hell my mother put him through in retaliation—affair after affair right under his nose; despite a life of telling myself I would never fall in love because love was for the weak and foolish, I fell in love. With my sweet, kind, innocent, playful neighbor.
So what happens next?
I don’t know. But I’ll figure it out. I love her, she loves me, and that’s all that matters.
Just before lunch, I close my laptop, tent my fingers, and close my eyes. If I call her, will she come to me? So I could make love to her on my desk, so every day I’m at work I can be reminded of the heaven of being inside her…
I reach for the phone on my desk, my pulse already quickening.
The door to my office swings wide, and Donald strides in.
As if he fucking owns the place.
The ghost of what must have been an angry bruise still mars his jaw. The sight of it tempers my rage at his appearance in my office…a little.
“I know who you are now,” he says, crossing to the chair opposite my desk and dropping into it.
Who knew he was still in town?
I should have. With the way he looked at her, I should have kept track of him. I should have made certain he’d left Hardrock, so he couldn’t harass her anymore.
