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Dangerous Intentions

Page 10

by Anna Leigh Keaton


  “I hope you don’t really mean that. This wasn’t—”

  She stuck her hand over his mouth to stop his words. “No. It wasn’t a pity fuck.” She sighed and leaned up on her elbow. It was lighter outside now, so she could see him better. “I wanted you. Don’t think otherwise.”

  He took her hand away from his mouth. “That was fucking amazing, what you did.”

  She smiled and gripped his soft cock with her muscles, then laughed when his eyes widened. “Women are supposed to exercise those muscles for medical reasons, but I think I like this reason much better.”

  He chuckled and kissed her. Against her lips, he murmured, “How about a shower?”

  “Do I stink?”

  He laughed and nuzzled his nose against hers in a playful way that made her heart squeeze. “You smell delicious. But I’m determined to make you come before I let you out of my room.”

  “Mmm. Promises, promises.”

  He poked her in the side, and she laughed and slid off of him, careful not to jostle him. “Help the cripple into the bathroom. Then I’ll help you.” He waggled his eyebrows, and that made her laugh even harder.

  In the shower stall, Dex sat on the plastic bench. With her straddling his thigh, he proceeded to lather her all over with soap and make her cry and scream in ecstasy when he brought her to not just one climax but several, with his hands and wicked, wicked mouth. In the end, she wound up on the floor on her knees, his reawakened cock in her mouth. And finally, she got to taste his release as he shouted with his climax and held her head in his big hands, his fingers tangled in her wet hair.

  Panting, she sat on her heels, her cheek resting on his thigh, as she gently stroked his softening penis.

  “Do you have any idea how fucking beautiful you are?” he asked.

  She grinned and tilted her head so she could look up at him.

  “I’m serious, sweetheart.” He smoothed her tangled hair out of her eyes.

  “Thank you,” was all she could say. Her brain was a little mushy from the incredible orgasms, and her body felt boneless.

  A knock on the bathroom door had her yelping and jumping away from Dex, though. Then she slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her embarrassed giggle.

  “Breakfast will be ready in ten,” Kevin called through the door, laughter obvious in his voice.

  “You’re a sick bastard,” Dex called to him. “Get the fuck out of my bedroom.”

  Kevin laughed, but his voice faded as he moved away from the door.

  “Oh, my God,” Shelly muttered as she climbed to her feet.

  Dex shook his head, grinning. “Sorry about that.”

  “Yeah, you sound sorry.” She grabbed the soap from the dish, lathered her hands, and leaned over Dex’s shoulder to soap his back.

  “Hey, ohh…ahh…that feels good. I can finish up here alone though, if you want to get dressed.”

  She massaged the tight muscles of his lower back, where his injuries were, to help loosen them up after last night’s and this morning’s stress on them. “Oh, be quiet. You know you don’t want me to go.”

  He groaned and leaned into her, resting his cheek against her breast, his morning whiskers tickling and sending tingles through her. “Not ever,” he muttered.

  She pretended not to hear, because it was irrelevant. It didn’t matter. This was an impossible situation, and come tomorrow, when she had a new security system and alarm installed in her house…

  How in the hell was she ever going to revert to a patient/doctor relationship with a man whose dick she’d had in her mouth? More importantly, how was she supposed to keep her hands to herself now that she knew how incredible sex with him was?

  “We better get going,” Dex said, putting his hands on her waist and urging her away from him, “or he could come back.”

  She stood up straight and frowned down at him. “How’s the pain?”

  “Three.”

  She pressed her lips together not believing him.

  “Seriously. I feel damn good right now.” He grinned and slid his hands from her waist to her hips, then tipped his thumbs toward her mound. “Don’t you?”

  She snickered and pulled away from his hands. It was almost embarrassing how just the thought of his fingers near her pussy again made her hot and bothered…and wet.

  “Yeah, I feel pretty good, too.” She opened the door and stepped out of the shower stall, while Dex turned off the water.

  She dried herself and watched through the frosted glass of the shower stall how he pulled himself to his feet using the handrails, then carefully walked with tiny steps to the door and stepped out. She moved his wheelchair closer to him, but instead of sitting, he pulled a towel from the bar, leaned against the wall, and dried himself off.

  “You been doing this on your own since you moved here?” she asked.

  He gave her a sideways glance then shook his head. “First month, my parents were here. They moved into one of the rooms upstairs, and Dad had the handrails and stuff put in here for me. Pretty fucking embarrassing to be almost forty and have your daddy helping you in and out of the shower like a baby. This was their room when we were growing up.”

  “You have a sister, right?” She picked up Dex’s comb from the counter and wondered how she’d get it through her tangles of wet hair.

  He nodded. “Lives in Chicago. Married with three boys.” He wrapped the towel around his waist and lowered himself onto the chair. Once she knew he was safe and sound, she turned toward the mirror and started working on the knots in her hair.

  “Anyway. Mom and Dad hung around until they were sure I was capable of surviving on my own here. Mom wanted to hire a private duty nurse, but I refused. I had you three times a week, and that was enough torture. I sure as hell didn’t want someone around here making me feel like even less of a man than you did.”

  Shelly gasped at the insult and turned from the mirror to look at him.

  He grinned then winked. “I’m kidding, sweetheart. Basically, I figured if I couldn’t make it on my own, then I wouldn’t make it. I’d been an invalid for months at the hospital in Germany, and then at Walter Reed. I felt more in control of my situation here on my own.”

  Shelly nodded. She could understand that. A lot of patients she’d seen over the years healed faster and more completely once they were home and out of the hospital. “You do seem to have it all under control here.”

  “Better hurry up,” he said, wheeling toward the door. “Kevin will come back if we’re not out there when he pulls the food off the stove.”

  Chapter Ten

  Shelly juggled two bags of groceries and a gallon of milk while trying to open the door of Dex’s house. Finally, she succeeded and almost cheered when she got it open. After a humongous breakfast consisting of bacon, ham, eggs, potatoes, cheese and who knows what else Kevin had cooked, they’d seen him off on his way to Oregon. After that, she’d headed to the hospital to check on Babs and then stopped off at the grocery store to get something she could make for dinner. Dex had next to no food in his house other than breakfast cereal. Kevin had made a run that morning to fetch the items he’d made.

  “Hey, Shelly,” Dex said from his spot on the sofa when she entered.

  “Hey.” She kicked the door shut and headed for the kitchen.

  “What’cha got there?”

  “I’m going to make us a pot roast for dinner. Is that okay?” She dropped the bags onto the small kitchen table and put the milk in the fridge.

  “I dunno. Does it taste like my mom’s?”

  Shelly laughed. “I have no idea, but I hope it tastes like my mom’s since she taught me how to cook.”

  It was only a little after one, and since she didn’t have to get things in the oven yet, she piled the groceries, bags and all, into the nearly empty fridge and shut the door. She grabbed a cup of coffee from the carafe in the coffee maker and headed into the living room where she locked the front door, kicked off her boots, and then after setting her coff
ee on the end table, peeled off her jacket and hat.

  “Did you like your mother’s pot roast?” Dex asked, giving her a dubious look.

  She laughed and sat down next to him, turned, and set her legs over his thighs, her butt snuggled up against his leg. “Yes. Best pot roast in the Midwest.” She reached for her coffee behind her. “You didn’t like your mom’s?”

  “Not to offend my mother who is practically a saint, but…” He made a face and ran his hands up and down her legs, warming them. “Well, Dad and I spent a lot of time at the pub when I was growing up.”

  She sipped the acrid brew and made a face. “What was so bad about her food?”

  “Nothing, if it came out of a can or box and she followed the directions. It was when she tried to make us a nice homemade meal that everything went to hell. Her pot roasts were the consistency of cardboard, and let’s not even get started on the baked chicken incident of eighty-eight.”

  “Oh, I have to hear about that.”

  “The outside of the chicken was golden brown, and it smelled great. Dad and I actually thought she’d succeeded in making an edible dinner.

  “We all got food poisoning and were sick as dogs. Undercooked inside. She’d had the oven too hot so the outside cooked, but not the inside.”

  Shelly burst out laughing.

  “It wasn’t funny! I’ve never before or since been that sick. God, we were praying for death that night.”

  She patted his arm. “It’s okay, Pete. You survived and everything’s okay now.”

  He chuckled. “You are such a little smartass.”

  She grinned, showing her teeth. “I know.”

  “How’s Babs?”

  She grew serious and shook her head. “Better than yesterday, but…” She sighed and looked into her coffee mug. “She’s fought for a really long time, but the bad days are beginning to outweigh the good ones.” She wanted to change the subject. Babs was in pain, and there wasn’t anything she could do to make it go away. “Would you mind telling me what your nightmare was last night?”

  Dex squeezed her thigh and nodded. “Not a big secret. When I woke up in Germany, I was strapped to the bed on my stomach. Couldn’t move. I’ve never been claustrophobic in my life, but that did something to me. Unable to move, to see anything but the floor through the donut opening in the bed. My night terrors, when they happen, are me reliving those first days when they had me strapped down, unable to move, and drugged out of my mind. I know now it was for my own good, but it was more traumatic than what had landed me in the hospital in the first place.”

  “Oh, my God. That’s horrible. How often do you have them? Is there a trigger? What brings them on?”

  He shook his head and rubbed her thigh, his thumb teasing very close to her crotch, which sent tingles through her body. She tried to ignore it, since she didn’t think his actions were intentional.

  “You sound more like a psychiatrist than a physical therapist right now.”

  “Humph.” He obviously didn’t want to talk about it. Turning her attention to the muted television she asked, “What’re you watching, hockey?”

  “Uh…yeah.” He turned and frowned at her. “That’s the game they play on skates carrying big sticks.”

  She stuck her tongue out at him. “Now who’s the smartass?”

  He laughed. “You don’t watch, I’m guessing.”

  “Nope.”

  “What sports do you like?”

  “None.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Even in high school? You’ve got the body for…swimming, or maybe volleyball.”

  “I sink like a rock, and sprained my wrist the only time I attempted volleyball. But you would have liked me in high school. I was just your type.”

  He wrinkled his brow. “What type was that?”

  She shrugged and grinned. “Kevin said you liked the brainy girls. That was me. Won the Iowa State Spelling Bee when I was in eighth grade. Captain of the debate team in high school—just like your girlfriend,” she added with a cheeky grin. “Graduated valedictorian, too.”

  “And I bet you had scholarships for college.”

  She nodded, grinning proudly. She’d worked damn hard to get where she was and not put any financial burden on her parents.

  “I’m getting turned on.”

  She laughed so hard, she sloshed her coffee on herself. Dex took the mug from her and leaned over her legs to set it on the coffee table. Then he literally lifted her up and moved her over him so she straddled his thighs.

  “Damn,” she gasped.

  “What?” He started unbuttoning the flannel shirt she wore over her T-shirt.

  “You’re stronger than you look.”

  His grin was big, crinkling his eyes in such a sexy way she leaned forward and kissed him.

  “Mmm.”

  “How’s your back?” she asked against his mouth between kisses.

  “What back?”

  She giggled and shrugged out of her shirt when he pushed it off her shoulders.

  “Back’s fine.” His hands went up under her T-shirt to cup her bra-covered breasts, making her moan when he pinched her nipples.

  She lifted the hem of her shirt, brought it over her head, and tossed it onto the floor with her flannel. “You sure we’re alone?”

  Dex leaned forward and captured her nipple through the lace of her bra with his teeth. “Uh huh.”

  Lust shot through her with the slight pain of his bite, and she bucked her hips. “I can’t believe I’m so horny again after this morning.”

  He pulled back a bit and looked into her eyes. “You’re so fucking honest. Do you know how much that’s a turn on for me?”

  She frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “This morning, you told me where to touch you, how to do it, what it did to you, what you wanted from me. I’ve never met anyone like you.”

  Smiling, she reached behind her and unhooked her bra. “And you like that.”

  Watching her chest as she dropped the bra into their laps, he nodded. “Oh, yeah.”

  “Then you want me to tell you want I want right now?”

  He nodded and raised his hands, spanning his palms over her ribs and moving upward, spreading goose bumps as he went. “Tell me.”

  “I want to fuck you hard. Do you think you can take it?”

  He looked up at her face, one eyebrow raised, which made her laugh.

  “I’m serious, Pete,” she murmured, distracted by the soft graze of his thumbs over her nipples. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “What about you, Shelly? Are you worried about getting hurt?”

  She laid her hands on either side of his face, noticing that he’d shaved. “Yes, I am.” And she wasn’t talking physically now. This affair was stupid, and she knew it would lead to heartache somehow.

  “This all ends tomorrow morning, doesn’t it?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “Okay.”

  The only thing that kept her from bursting out in tears was the fact that he looked so miserable over the decision.

  “Fuck me then, Shelly. And fuck me all night long. We’re going to make every damn moment count.”

  Standing up, she shucked her jeans, underwear, and socks, while Dex unbuttoned his jeans and shoved them down his thighs. She resumed her position on his lap and guided his hard cock deep within her. When she didn’t see any signs of pain on his face or in his demeanor, she rose up and thrust back down hard.

  “Yesss…” he hissed.

  She fucked him fast, taking him deep, bouncing on him and crying out when his cock stroked her sweet spot repeatedly. He gripped her waist in his big hands, helping raise and lower her. At one point he reached up and pulled the band from her hair so it flowed over her shoulders.

  “So fucking beautiful,” he said between gritted teeth as his body grew tight with his impending climax.

  He reached between them and pinched her clit, which sent her over the edge into ecstasy, crying out his name
.

  With several sharp, short shouts, he came, filling her with his cum and holding her against his chest in a death grip.

  She wound her arms around his neck and buried her face against his shoulder as she kept moving her hips against him, extending both of their pleasure just a little longer.

  The tears came then, and Dex held her, running his hand up and down her back while she wept. An affair wasn’t worth throwing away her career. She was sure of that fact. But throwing away what could be a budding love hurt so bad she felt as if she were back in high school with her first crush. It had been over a decade since she’d been serious about a man. Pete Dexler would be very easy to get serious about.

  * * * * *

  “I made you a roast beef sandwich for lunch, and I’m taking one for myself.” Shelly sipped her coffee as she slipped a sandwich and a couple cans of diet cola into a plastic bag to take to work.

  “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

  Yes, she did. Because once she got up this morning and had showered, she’d needed something to fill the time before she left for work. Something other than diving back into bed with Dex and never leaving his house.

  She’d packed up her suitcase, made sandwiches out of the leftover pot roast from the night before, and drank half of a pot of coffee. Finally, her watch beeped on the hour, which meant it was eight and time to head to work.

  She downed the last of her coffee, set the mug in the sink, then turned toward Dex who sat at the table in his wheelchair. “I’ve got to go.”

  He nodded. “I’ll be there at one, as usual?”

  He sounded unsure, which made her frown. “Unless you’re uncomfortable with me as your physical therapist now.”

  With a shake of his head, he said, “No. I’m not. Are you?”

  Yes, but not because they’d been intimate. Not because she thought she’d have a problem working with him. “I’ve never crossed this line before, Dex, and my problem doesn’t stem from thinking we can’t still work together. It’s because I did something I have always found morally reprehensible.”

  “It’s not as if you took advantage of me. I’m not someone you used your authority over to coerce into bed.”

 

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