The Surgeon's Secret Baby

by Christopher, Ann

  God knew she couldn’t wait any more. She’d fought the good fight, yeah, but she could only resist for so long when the sexiest man she’d ever known looked at her with those eyes. So now this was it. The moment of truth.

  A bubble of hysteria nearly shot out of her mouth. Poor guy. She’d warned him that she hadn’t had sex in nearly a decade, and therefore had fading skills that were questionable at best, but had he listened? No. Well, he was in for a major disappointment tonight, wasn’t he?

  Much to her horror, the chatter continued, showing no signs of slowing.

  “And I thought you and the Admiral got along pretty well, except for when—”

  “Shh.” Without hesitation, those arms wrapped around her and settled her against a body that was marble hard and yet somehow generated the heat of a blast furnace. The globes of her butt fitted around a rigid erection and, just in case there was any doubt about what he wanted, his hands slid over the silk of her dress, one finding her breasts and the other running up her bare thigh to seek out the V between her legs.

  She shuddered and sagged against him, already lost. “Oh, God,” she gasped.

  “There’s nothing to be scared about.”

  Ha. Easy for him to say.

  The lie popped right out. “I’m not scared.”

  His lips, which had found their way to her neck in a slow nuzzle, curled in an unmistakable smile she was glad she couldn’t see. “Can I tell you something?”

  Ah, man. His hands were causing so much separate turmoil that it was all she could do to breathe. One hand was cupping her breasts, learning their size and weight and circling her aching nipples with a relentless thumb, and the other was wreaking havoc below her waist, edging under her panties to the damp and vulnerable flesh beneath, caressing with a stroke that was rhythmic and unrelenting.

  “Yes,” she said.

  Now his lips were at her ear, whispering words that arrowed straight to her heart. “I hate it when I have to leave here and go home at night. It’s like a punishment.”

  Oh, God. Right there…right there. “It is?”

  “Yes.” He grazed her earlobe, pulling just enough with his sharp teeth. Down below, his hips had begun to swivel, thrusting her swollen sex deeper against those skilled fingers. “Because I belong here with you now, don’t I?”

  She hesitated.

  “Don’t I?” he insisted, nipping at the tender hollow between her neck and shoulder, making her cry out with approaching ecstasy, which was going to barrel her over any second. “Don’t think about lying to me.”

  “Yes.” Her breath was barely a pant; only his strength was keeping her upright now. “Yes.”

  “Yes, what?”

  “Yes, you belong with me.”

  “Inside you.”

  Why argue? “Yes.”

  Another stroke of his fingers, which were slick and hot with her honey, started the first waves of rippling pleasure. Giving herself over to them, she let her head fall back and her eyes roll closed. Her lips began to curl into a smile, but then the ripples sharpened into piercing contractions with no beginning or end, and she exploded with a cry of astonishment.

  His arms tightened around her, anchoring her to his solid weight while she rode it out. The gasping mewls kept coming, too far beyond her control to rein in. She couldn’t help being loud; this was what he’d done to her, and she couldn’t wait for him to do it again.

  Eventually her breath came back, which was an awesome feat with him holding her in a rib-crushing grip, as though Armageddon could come and go before he ever turned her loose. She felt loose and free. Light, as though anything was possible, including, incredibly, happiness.

  Turning her head to look at him over her shoulder, she tried to smile.

  “Thomas,” she began.

  Unsmiling, he never let her finish. “I need you now. You’re part of me. You know that, right?”

  She stilled, too stunned to speak.

  “Some things just are.” He shrugged helplessly, and even in the darkness she could see the flash of turbulence in his eyes, as though he wasn’t happy to find himself in this spot but didn’t plan on making an escape attempt. “They just are.”

  Too many emotions were swirling inside her, threatening to make a break for it, so she put them all on lockdown and trusted herself with just three words: “Come with me.”

  Taking his hands and staring up into his hard, beautiful face, she backed her way down the hall, pulling him into her bedroom.

  Chapter 12

  Need grabbed Thomas in a stranglehold, leaving no room for anything other than the urge to experience everything he’d been waiting for and to do it now. What was it that Gordon Gekko said in the movie Wall Street? “Greed…is good.” If that was true, then he was golden, and this was his moment to gobble up all the things he wanted.

  So this was Lia’s bedroom, and now he was allowed inside.

  He’d glimpsed it several times from the hallway, of course, always feeling like a kid with his nose pressed up against the locked glass door of an ice cream parlor. Now, finally, he was allowed inside this intimate world and could revel in all things Lia. Shutting and locking the door behind them, he took it all in with a swift glance.

  It was warm and cozy, and smelled faintly of the spicy fragrance she wore. He noticed the perfume bottles on the dresser, along with a TV in the armoire, a cookbook on the ottoman in a reading corner complete with rattan chair and a softly glowing lamp. There were pictures of Jalen in expensive frames on every flat surface, vases with flowers, a small bookshelf. And then there was the bed, king-size with one of those fancy wrought-iron headboards and topped with giant decorator pillows and matching duvet, all in earthy shades of green and gold.

  Once he’d taken the edge off his curiosity about the room, he turned to his other driving needs: to touch, taste and posses. Lia was still smiling up at him with those flushed cheeks and smoldering eyes, still loose and languid following her orgasm, still pulling him toward the bed. And he couldn’t touch all of her anywhere close to fast enough.

  And here he’d thought he had a couple skills when it came to sex. Please. Right now, all he had were shaky hands, gasping breath and skittering pulse.

  “Lia.”

  He sank his fingers deep into the silk of her hair, searching for the warmth of her scalp beneath, and tilted her head way back so he could have complete access to her mouth, which he took with deep, thrusting sweeps of his tongue. A remote corner of his brain was aware that his urgency was making him a little rough, and maybe he should ease up and let the poor woman catch her breath, but there was no time for that now. He’d waited too long, and there were too many possible ways for their lips to fit together, tasting and nibbling, stroking and tugging, and the taste of her—a delicious combination of white wine and buttery icing from the cake—was far too delicious for him to slow down.

  More. He needed more.

  Anyway, she wasn’t complaining. Her sounds were a thrilling combination of gasps and mewls, all of them encouraging, and every time he pulled back enough to breathe and dive back in again, discovering her mouth from every possible angle, he saw, through his half-closed eyes, that her lips were curled in one of the most sensual smiles he’d ever seen.

  “I want you.” Jesus, was that him with that guttural and animalistic voice that sounded as though it belonged to a caveman? Too far gone to manage gentle, he grabbed fistfuls of her hair, learning the feel of it, and then ran his fingers over her forehead and dimpled cheeks, and across those lips that were slick and swollen now, but still smiling. “You have no idea how much I want you.”

  “I want you—”

  That was all he let her say before he ran out of patience. This was no time for talking, not when he hadn’t kissed her enough yet. He took her mouth again, yanking her up against his hungry body and rubbing his hands all over her back and then lower, kneading that round ass beneath the silky slide of her dress, and then lower again, searching for her bare thighs.
They were meaty, just the way he liked them, and he stooped a little, just enough to take possession of one of her knees and hike it up around his hip. There. Just like that. He ground against her, his erection so unrelentingly hard and insistent it was a wonder his flesh didn’t split down the middle.

  Her panting murmurs coalesced into his name and her grasping fingers scratched up underneath the bottom of his shirt and across his back. Crazy sounds collected in his throat, rumbles of approval, and that was before she spoke.

  “Thomas. I need you inside me. I need you. Need you… Need it…now. Now.”

  Oh, yeah. He liked hearing his buttoned-up little Lia all hot and bothered despite her cool pronouncements about not needing him or a relationship. She damn sure needed him now, didn’t she? And he wasn’t about to let her forget it.

  “You like this?” He punctuated the end of his sentence with a sharp smack on her ass. “Huh? You need this?”

  Another smile, even as her head fell back and her hips writhed against him with a growing insistence. “Yes.”

  He wasn’t in much of a mood to be merciful. Not yet. He smacked her again with his free hand, keeping that knee wrapped around his waist with the other.

  “Yeah? What about BOB? You want BOB right now?”

  A disbelieving laugh. “No.”

  “No?” That wasn’t quite vehement enough for him, and he did so like the begging. “Convince me.”

  He was feeling pretty powerful right about then, but that stuttered to a halt—along with his pulse—when she extricated herself from his grasping arms and, staring him straight in the face with the flash of a challenge in her eyes, dropped nimbly to her knees.

  Damn.

  His first instinct was to step away before he embarrassed himself with the quickest premature ejaculation ever experienced in the history of mankind. This was too much. He wanted her too much, he was already on a razor’s edge and the reality of seeing her going to work on his belt and zipper with that sort of ferocious intent was a billion times better than his fantasies and way too much for him to handle right now.

  “Lia,” he began, choked. “I don’t think—”

  “Then stop thinking,” she said flatly.

  His brain sent some sort of a message to his body, something about stopping this before it went any further, but it got lost when she pulled down the waistband of his boxers. Cooing with appreciation, she stroked him with her soft but sure hands, and then licked him from bottom to top. That was when his brain checked out altogether.

  “I want this.” Her hot gaze flickered back up, nailing him right between the eyes. “I want all of this.” With no further ado, she sucked him deep into her mouth’s slickness as her hands slid behind him so she could dig her nails into his ass.

  He felt his breath stop after a single, harsh gasp. He staggered back a half step, struggling against the relentless urge to thrust, to come. It was excruciating; it was heaven. Could too much pleasure kill a person? Induce insanity? His hands went to her bobbing head, holding it between his flexing fingers, and he panted. He groaned. He whimpered, undone in a way he’d never been before, because that was Lia on her knees before him, Lia’s hot mouth sucking him and Lia’s humming voice encouraging him.

  His heavy head fell back, and he stared up at the ceiling through half-closed eyes, his vision blurred. The breath hissed out of his lungs and wheezed back in, and his hoarse cries kept coming, louder and louder, and there was nothing he could do to contain them, even if he’d had the strength to try.

  Enough. He needed to be inside her. Now.

  With every muscle in his body now coiled tight with strain, he pulled free of her mouth’s suction. It was hard, almost impossible, given his driving urge to come. His erection strained and jutted, still reaching for her, and he moved with the focused speed of a lightning strike. He stooped and caught her under her arms, hauling her roughly to her feet and trying not to see the unmistakable triumph in the curl of her lips.

  Yeah, she’d won that round, true. He’d give that to her. But the match was far from over.

  Pausing only to give her another frenzied kiss, he pushed her back just enough to give him the room he needed, swept his shirt off over his head and dropped it to the floor. A beat passed; he was excruciatingly aware of her roving gaze, which was hungry as it swept over his chest and arms, and of the way her breasts heaved and her nipples pointed beneath her clothes.

  Yeah, it was past time for him to be inside her.

  “Take your dress off.” Impatient, he bent at the waist to get rid of his pants and boxers, being careful to pull his wallet out of his back pocket and toss it onto the nightstand before he let his clothes fall. “I want to see you. Now.”

  She flushed and hesitated, infuriating him, because why, after all this, wouldn’t she know how beautiful she was to him? Did she not understand how strong his need was right now? How much he wanted her? Was this about her thinking that her waist was too wide or some such nonsense? Why did women do that to themselves?

  “Don’t bother being shy,” he said. “It’s a waste of time.”

  Even now, she didn’t like being bossed around or the suggestion of any weakness. The command seemed to galvanize her, which was the point. Bold as a stripper now, lacking only the pole, she reached behind to unzip her dress and let it fall off her shoulders and down to the floor with a shimmy. He was still reeling from the revelation of all those juicy curves he couldn’t wait to get his hands on, when she released the front clasp of her thin black bra with a flick, letting her breasts bounce free.

  And there she was.

  The lamp’s light made her brown skin gleam with warmth. The small ovals of her breasts were tipped with prominent dark nipples the color of the world’s richest coffee. She had a tiny waist, rounded belly and the kind of swelling hips that would make the perfect place for his hands to grip while she rode him. Down below—

  “Take your panties off, Lia.”

  She complied, never breaking eye contact as she bent and wiggled her way out of a pair of black lace nothings. Then she straightened, letting him look his fill with the slightest curl at the edge of her lips, as though she was finally getting the picture of what she was doing to him and reveled in it.

  Have mercy.

  Down below, she was bare, letting him see that the sweet cleft between her legs was ruddy with engorgement, already slick and ready for him.

  He stared, his brain emptying out. And stared and stared and stared, until there was only one thing he could say, the only thing she needed to know. “You’re perfect.”

  Naturally, she started to shake her head and disagree, but he was having none of it.

  “Lie down,” he told her. “Now.”

  He stepped forward, and they reached for each other, and the next thing he knew, they were tumbling onto the fluffy bed, she beneath him, and the exquisite slide of his bare skin against hers was like heaven come to life. All he could do was marvel. At the softness of her fragrant skin and the way her silky limbs twined around him without needing encouragement. At her primal pants and cries and the way she whispered his name with every gasped breath. At the thrilling way her firm breasts filled his palms and her velvety, erect nipples swelled tighter when he flicked them with his thumb.

  At the unexpected but wonderful turns his life had taken since he first laid eyes on this woman.

  “Lia,” he said over and over again, because he couldn’t stop himself. “Lia.”

  He wedged his way between her legs and slid down the length of her body, running his cheeks and lips all over her warm belly with one ultimate destination in mind. And then he was there, with his face rubbing against her sex and his arms locked around her waist so she could never get away.

  Ignoring the insistent writhing of her hips, he paused, savoring.

  Her body’s fresh musk filled his nostrils, and he felt the wild rush of her scent shoot straight to his brain. Surrounding him on both sides, her thighs cradled his head, and he gave in t
o the urge to use his teeth and bite one. Suck it. Just as he was wondering if he was being too rough, her strangled cries of pleasure hit a new level, and that was that.

  Turning to the other thigh, he sucked harder, working her with his tongue. If he left marks, too bad, so sad; she could wear a long skirt tomorrow. If she didn’t like what he was doing, she wouldn’t sound so ecstatic.

  He had to taste her.

  Dragging his hands lower, between her and the linens, he cupped that ass and angled her hips just right. Her sudden silence above him told him that her breath had caught. Good. Dipping his head, he licked his lips, flicked his tongue out and ran it over that glistening nub in a big swipe that narrowed down to swirling circles.

  “Thomas.”

  She jackknifed, her rigid body doubling up with spasms of pleasure. He’d had it in his mind to suckle her a little, really wring her dry, but he was only human, and he’d waited all he could.

  Crawling back over her, he reached for his wallet on the nightstand and the black foil package inside. Moving as quickly as he could, with hands that were too shaky to work very well—and to think he was a surgeon!—he covered himself, staring into her face the whole time.

  She was panting, sweat-slicked and delicious. Her eyes were fever bright, her face flushed, her lips swollen, and the sultry way she looked at him nearly drove him out of his freaking mind.

  Maybe she knew it, too, because she tried to smile, but the moment was too weighty for that. “This is good, isn’t it?” she whispered. “Between us?”

  Taking himself in hand, he ran the tip of his penis back and forth between the honey slickness of her folds, lubricating them both.

  “Good doesn’t begin to cover it,” he said grimly.

  Lately she’d become way too talented at reading his moods, and she used her mental X-ray skills on him now, brows lowering with concern as she studied him. “What?”

  He hesitated. Did she understand how this one thing ate at him? How it would probably haunt him forever, as though it were an asterisk beside the single greatest achievement of his life?