by Katy Connor
Jack was close. Close enough I could feel the build-up, feel the way his breathing changed.
And I could not believe it when Jack cupped my jaw and stilled my movements. He stroked my cheeks, drawing my lips open, and with a pained moan, withdrew his cock from my mouth. Then he unwrapped my one hand from his length and the other from his balls.
“Wh-what the…?” I was so breathless and sated, and so shocked by his retreat, the words came out as a stunned gasp.
Jack collapsed back on his ass, his hands slapping the ground next to my feet as he landed.
I heard nothing but his agonized exhalations for long seconds.
Chapter Four
I gaped at Jack until his breathing eased and the agony seemed to subside. “Wh-why did you pull away?”
He must have heard the confusion in my voice. “I’m not crazy, I promise,” he rasped into the darkness.
“But you stopped me.” What man in his right mind pulled back on the verge of orgasm? None that I knew.
“Delayed, Bella, not stopped.”
“Huh?”
He leaned forward, found my hand, and held it in his. “The waiting turns me on, pretty one. I crave the pleasure and the pain that comes with anticipating my release.”
I mulled that over for a minute.
Was he hiding some twisted sexual secret I needed to know about?
“You into kinky shit, Dr. Scott?”
His laugh was deep and husky and echoed through my chest, right up close to my heart. “Not kinky, no. But I enjoy the anticipation that comes from postponing an orgasm. It makes the release, when it finally comes, so much sweeter.”
I frowned in Jack’s direction, perplexed.
His quiet chuckle filled the room. “You think I’ve lost my mind.”
“I might be questioning your sanity.”
“Ever held off on an orgasm, Bella?”
I didn’t bother to answer. He knew the answer to that—four times over.
“Ever prolonged the pleasure, put it off time and again, until the pressure is so powerful, so overwhelming, you can’t delay it one…more…second?”
I’d been teased by previous lovers, may even have teased them back. Drawn them to the edge, or been drawn to the edge, then backed off once or twice, just to prolong that pleasure. But I have never denied a man his release, and by God, no one has ever denied me mine. And I sure as hell have never denied myself.
“It’s torturous. Hell.” His voice was a hoarse rasp. “I’m in hell now. But fuck. It’s the sweetest torture. Because I know this isn’t the end. Not even close.”
“You’re nuts.”
He shuffled closer. Pushed my legs aside again and shuffled between them. My eyes must have grown accustomed to the dark, because I could see the outline of his broad shoulders now. Could even see the length of his erection punching the air. He steered my hand to that erection.
“Touch me.” His voice was a rough whisper. “Wrap your hand around my cock again.”
I leaned forward, found his turgid flesh, and closed my fist around it.
A breath shuddered out of him. “Now jerk me off.”
He thrust into my hand, and I instinctively tightened my hold, tugging at him like he’d asked.
We found a rhythm, him thrusting, me tugging. “It’s not a matter of not wanting you. Of not wanting to come.”
Thrust, tug.
“It’s a matter of living in the moment, relishing the build…” His breath heaved, his voice broke, and he jerked in my fist. “And…not giving into it.”
His fist wrapped around mine, squeezing my fingers at the base of his cock. Squeezing his cock. Squeezing hard. Long seconds passed as we squeezed, as his breathing calmed, and then he released my fist and thrust slowly again.
Thrust, tug.
“Try it. See for yourself.”
And damn the man, his fingers were in my pussy. The thrusting rhythm he’d set, he replicated on me, sliding two fingers inside me, then drawing them out again, beginning that heavenly assault all over again.
Thrust, tug.
Slide, withdraw.
Thrust, tug.
Slide, withdraw.
“Whatever you do, Isabella, don’t come. Remember, it’s all about anticipation.”
Jack leaned in and kissed me. A slow, drugging, delicious kiss.
“Don’t come.” He pulled away just long enough to repeat his warning, and then he kissed me again.
It was pure hell. Physical torture.
I tried. I swear to you, I tried to tamper the explosion. To fell the build. I tried but I failed. My orgasm crept up on me so fast, I didn’t have time to warn Jack. One more thrust of his fingers would do it. Complete me. Send me over.
But damn him, he knew. He must have sensed it.
As I teetered on that precipice, about to plummet over the edge, he withdrew his fingers.
They were gone, just like that.
I gasped, gaping at his shadowed face, teetering on that edge for an eternity. I needed just one finger plunged inside me. One, and I’d fly. Soar.
I only realized Jack must be standing on the same precipice when my fingers began to ache under the pressure of his squeezing them. Together we squeezed his cock again, repressing his bubbling orgasm like he’d denied mine.
We sat there, face-to-face, heaving breaths intermingling, both struggling against our innate need to give in to the pressure of release.
And there they were again, a set of intrusive footsteps, just like the ones that had approached the basement door.
Only this time they didn’t recede. This time the door handle creaked as someone twisted it.
I held my breath. More like sucked it in and almost choked on it, such was my fear of discovery. I was paralyzed, unable to move. Unable to even find my panties and pull them on, covering myself. I couldn’t if I’d wanted to. My hand was trapped in Jack’s, both of ours wrapped around the base of his throbbing cock.
“Wrong door,” a disembodied voice called over the music. “That’s the office. You won’t find a bathroom in there.”
The handle creaked again.
“Second on the right,” the voice called. “Not first.”
“Got ya. Thanks.” Another creak, and more footsteps, this time heading away from the door.
I slumped against the wall, the relief of not being discovered almost more than I could handle. Yet the disappointment of remaining hidden whipped my body right back to its pre-orgasmic state.
I swear, if Jack touched me once, just swiped a finger over my clit, I’d go off like a rocket.
He must have guessed the direction of my thoughts or read my subtle body language as I thrust my hips wildly toward him, because his soft chuckle filled the room once against, and a wisp of lace landed in my hand.
“Get dressed. Before I forget every plan I made about denying you and me our release.”
I glared at Jack, driving invisible daggers into his jugular.
He grinned as he poured me a glass of sangria. “Normally, I’d suggest you stop pouting. But with your lips swollen like they are, you look too damn sexy. Keep on glowering, Bella. It’s playing hell with my balls.”
My glare changed to an open-mouthed gawk.
People stood all around us. Anyone could have heard.
The man had me hanging on the end of a very taut thread. My body was so wired and so aware, it would take very little for that thread to snap, sending me over the precipice.
I gulped down mouthfuls of cold, sweet sangria as Jack poured himself a scotch.
He turned his back to the rest of the room. “Know what I’d like to do now?”
I shook my head. His voice was a soft hum, vibrating through me. The background music made it almost impossible for anyone else to hear him.
“Strip off every last piece of your clothing, sink into your wet pussy, and fuck you ’til you come, screaming my name.”
I blinked, stunned by the audacity of the man, and so turned on I
had to squeeze my thighs together.
“Is this part of your pleasure, Jack? Making the wait that much more intolerable?”
“Intolerable or exciting?”
“It’s excruciating.” I’d never stood on the precipice like this. Ready to come, with no way of getting there. It was sheer hell. And maybe a little bit of tantalizing heaven.
“You’re complaining?”
Yeah. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t enjoying the wait or anticipating my release when it finally came. Because it would come. Of that I was sure. And it would come compliments of Dr. Jack Scott. It was just a matter of time.
“I’m frustrated.” I let out a loud huff.
“It’ll be worth it in the end. I promise.”
“You’re enjoying this way too much.”
“I am.” A gleam filled his eyes. “There’s something you should probably know.”
I waited, my breath suspended. I was learning to read some of Jack’s tells. Soon as his eyes glinted like that, I knew he had something up his sleeve.
“Rebecca may not have suggested I bring condoms. That doesn’t mean I don’t carry one around with me.”
For the second time in as many minutes, my jaw dropped.
He touched my nose. “It’s a fact, pretty woman, that most single guys carry condoms on them.”
He had a condom? He’d had it all this time and never thought to mention it?
Sneaky bastard.
Sneaky, sexy, irresistible bastard. “And you’re planning on using it here, in this room full of people?”
He edged ever closer to me. “My balls ache imagining how I’d feel, buried inside you while every single adult here watched.”
Heat seared through me. I gulped down another mouthful of sangria. When that didn’t work, I almost poured the drink down my shirt. Anything to stave off the flames sparking anew from his words.
I settled for holding the glass against my neck, grateful for the ice tinkling inside. “That’s not my problem, sunshine. If you’d let me finish you off when I had you in my mouth, or in my hand, for that matter, you wouldn’t be in this position now.” And neither would I. I wouldn’t be giving serious consideration to the prospect of doing the hot doctor in front of eighty or so of Bec’s closest friends.
“I told you, anticipation makes the grand finale a million times better.”
“Anticipation make me horny and frustrated.”
“And perhaps a little grumpy?” The grin and dimple were back. “I’m curious. Is there anything that doesn’t make you grumpy?”
“Yeah. There is. Not being left hanging by a hot guy.”
The dimple deepened. “You think I’m hot.”
“Correction. I’m hot.” Not just hot. I was burning up. I tugged at my shirt, hoping to get some cool air circulating underneath it.
“Agreed. You’re fucking hot. My hot, grumpy master chef.”
“My? Are we getting possessive?”
“If knowing I’m going to have every inch of you tonight means I’m getting possessive, then I guess so.”
“Let’s get one thing straight here. If you actually do have a condom on you, then I’m the one who’s going to possess every inch of you.” Every rock-solid, velvety inch of him.
“Say the word, Bella. I’m yours.”
The air between us vibrated with repressed sexual tension.
There was something else.
Standing there, engaging in sexy banter with Jack, made my chest ache just a little. I liked him. A lot. I kind of wanted him to be mine. I liked how he aroused me physically and stimulated me mentally.
And I’d just met him.
This was supposed to be a one-time hook up. I took a step back. I needed to put a little distance between us.
“Why are you wearing board shorts in the middle of a Rocky Mountain winter?” He must have noticed the snow falling outside.
It was cold as shit.
Jack raised a brow, telling me he’d noted my change of subject.
“I place responsibility for my poor choice of outfit squarely on your friend’s shoulders.”
“Rebecca?”
“Yes.” Jack nodded. “I was headed to the fitness center next to the hospital to do some laps in the pool when she cornered me in a lift. Told me to get my ass to her party, stat, to meet her friend—or face her wrath.”
I snorted, easily picturing Rebecca threatening him.
He cast a fearful gaze across the room, as though scanning faces for the bossy nurse. “She’s scary, that one. Wouldn’t even give me a chance to change back into my jeans.”
“You’re a swimmer?”
He shrugged. “Prefer it to working out or running.”
Which explained the broad shoulders and muscular chest. Not to mention the toned legs, which I suspect Rebecca had insisted on leaving on show in those shorts…for my benefit.
I made a mental note to thank her later.
“I train most days after work. Helps me shake off any stressful cases.”
“What if you finish late? Or you’re on call through the night?”
“Still swim. My shifts are all over the place anyway. Another hour before I get to sleep isn’t going to make a difference.”
“Do you enjoy it?”
“Swimming? I love it.”
“And work?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “I do. I love the challenge of treating a difficult case, and the satisfaction of easing a patient’s hampered breathing.”
I looked down at his strong, capable hands. “Are you specializing in medicine or surgery?” I’d trust those hands to operate on me.
I’d already trusted those hands to operate on me.
“Surgery’s not my cuppa tea. I prefer interacting with conscious patients.”
Conversation came naturally to him. It was no surprise surgery wasn’t his calling.
“How does an Australian doctor come to specialize in an American hospital?”
“With difficulty,” he huffed. “The paperwork and visa application were a bitch.”
“Yet here you are. In Hardrock, not…Melbourne?”
“Sydney.” A look crossed his face I couldn’t read. A serious look—sad, even. “Lived there my whole life. And, yes, here I am. My sister lives here, so this seemed like a logical place to be. A good hospital to start afresh in.”
“You needed a fresh start?”
And just like that, Jack’s demeanor changed. The light in his eyes flickered out, and his expression became haunted. Grief pulled at the corners of his mouth. For an instant he looked…traumatized.
But only for an instant, and then his smile was back in place, as though not a thing was wrong in the world.
So brief was his distress, I questioned if it had even flashed across his face in the first place. Maybe I’d just imagined it.
“New specialization. New hospital. Prof Aden has a fantastic reputation. It’s a privilege to work under him.”
Though he smiled, the gleam in his eyes had vanished.
“New specialization?”
“I thought emergency work would be my calling. It, er, wasn’t.”
That pain I’d glimpsed had been real.
“Hey.” I placed my hand on his arm. “You okay?”
He stared down at my hand for a long time before answering. “Yeah, no worries.”
“Sure about that? You look like you’ve just lost your best friend.”
And there it was again, anguish and pain, twisting together to darken his beautiful brown eyes. But only for a heartbeat. Jack blinked, and it was gone again.
“Just thinking about what it would be like to sink balls deep into you.”
And just like that I was all melty again, and that playful glint of his was back in his eyes.
Whatever it was that had brought Jack to Hardrock, it was none of my business. Tonight, with him, was about sex. Nothing more. Nothing less.
We were a few spectacular orgasms on a cold night, end of story.
/> Pity.
Physical compatibility aside, I liked the hot doctor. He was funny, charming, respectful, sexy as hell, and he made me smile. Scratch that. He made me glow.
“Promises, promises,” I shot back.
“I could take care of that thing making you grumpy right now.”
“I’m not fucking you in a room full of people.”
“There are always ways around obstacles.” He tapped his forehead. “You’ve just got to get creative.”
“I was creative. In the office, with no one around.”
“So it was the privacy of the situation that helped with your creativity?” Blatant disbelief lurked in his twinkling eyes. “Keep trying to convince yourself of that.”
“Closed door. Total darkness. Doesn’t get more private than that.”
“And the ever-present threat of someone walking in on us?” He leaned in close. “On a scale of one to ten, how hot did you get when we were almost busted?”
Off-the-charts hot. Hot enough to spontaneously combust.
I raised my chin defiantly. “About a one.”
He had the audacity to laugh. “One hundred, maybe.”
“Point five,” I corrected.
“If I’d so much as a laid a finger on you when that door handle creaked, you’d have splintered. Broken into a million tiny pieces.”
“But you didn’t, did you?” Which is why I was grumpy, hot and frustrated. “I could be walking around, basking in the radiance of a healthy afterglow. But no. You had to deny me. Deny us both.”
“What if I told you I won’t deny you next time?”
“What if I told you there won’t be a next time?”
The sexy doc had the audacity to laugh. “We both know that would be a lie.”
“Don’t you have a sick patient to treat?”
“The only thing I need to treat is you.”
“You’re all talk, Doctor Scott. No action.” Well, that wasn’t strictly true, was it? Since I’d gotten more action tonight than I had in the last six months.
“You want me to act?”
“Yeah, big talk. Put your money where your mouth is.”
“Never mind my money, I know where I’d like to put my mouth.”
