by Isabel Morin
I push through the door to Taylor a little more forcefully than necessary and have to apologize for almost nailing a guy coming the other way. I’m just about to head for the stairs when I remember I haven’t checked the mail today. Bending down, I peer inside my box and see a long white rectangle lying in there. I order myself to calm down—it could be anything—and slide my key in the lock.
It’s a letter from Johns Hopkins. Either I’m being invited down for an interview, or this is the end of the road. I wish there was someone else around to read it first and give me the news.
Except of course I’d never let anyone read it before me.
I fumble as I tear it open, and it takes several seconds for me to comprehend what I’m reading. “The faculty and Office of Admissions cordially invite you to Johns Hopkins School of Medicine for an interview…”
I’m smiling like a lunatic as I race upstairs, the letter clutched in my hand. First, I’ll call Mom, then I’ll text Dad, Jen, and Audrey. Mom can let the family—
“If the date was that great, why are you back so soon?”
I look up to find Casey scowling down at me from the stairs. A completely different happiness blooms in my chest at the sight of him. It takes me a minute to catch up with his meaning, and for the second time tonight I wonder if he’s jealous. But the thought is so presumptuous there’s no way I can voice it.
I’ve reached the step he’s on.
“I’m happy because I got invited to interview at Johns Hopkins.” And because you’re here in front of me.
Joy lights up his face, crinkling his eyes and making them inexplicably bluer. Just like that he goes from sulky to heart-meltingly delighted for me.
“That’s fantastic,” he says, pulling me into a hug.
My feet leave the floor, and then I’m absorbing the warmth of him. This is all I wanted, exactly this, all evening.
“When is it?” he asks, putting me back down.
“I have to set something up. Hopefully soon, though.”
“So where’s Brian?”
“That’s not going anywhere, so you can stop worrying about him.”
“I wasn’t worried.”
Whatever he was, he looks relieved.
“I’m heading to Sweeney’s,” he says. “Want to come?”
“I can’t. I have to work at the clinic early tomorrow.”
“Bummer.” His eyes get that really focused look they get when we’re messing around, like he’s zeroing in on me. “I could skip it and we could have another lesson right now.”
Heat sweeps over me, prickling the backs of my knees. “Now?”
He puts one hand on my hip and whispers in my ear. “Now.”
Chapter Thirteen
Casey takes my hand, pulling me down the hall after him. Then we’re safe in his room, though I’m not sure “safe” is how I should describe what I feel. He moves away to turn the lava lamp on. It glows a soft blue, enough to see by but not entirely revealing.
I lean against the door, looking at him, waiting. He gives me a smile that’s somehow sheepish and sexy at the same time.
“Can I take your coat?” he asks, all formal.
He helps me slide it off, his hands skimming my shoulders, the way I’ve seen men do in restaurants. He’s in control, contained, and apparently in no rush. Even though he’s about to kiss me, I can’t wait any longer. I grab fistfuls of his shirt and pull him toward me.
His breath huffs out in surprise, but it takes only a split second for him to catch up. One hand comes up to cup the back of my head, and his other arm wraps around my back as he takes control of the kiss. I moan and pull him closer, but there is no closer. My fingers curl into his shirt, and I press my hips into his. I’m already so worked up, so needy.
But I’m not the only one. Casey’s breath is ragged, and he’s already hard for me.
“Take this off,” I say, pushing his jacket from his shoulders.
He shrugs it off and we let it drop to the floor.
I practically snarl at the shirt he’s got on underneath. “This, too.”
His eyebrows go up in surprise, but he complies, pulling the shirt over his head to reveal a dark blue T-shirt.
I run my hands up his arms, my thumbs gliding over his biceps. “Mmm, that’s better,” I murmur in approval.
He sucks in a breath. “Hannah,” he says. But he stands there as if spellbound, letting me touch him.
His skin is warm, smooth over hard muscle. I’m practically panting as I slip my hands under the hem of his shirt and skim along his waist and abs, then higher to his chest. He sucks in another breath, and I freeze, uncertain.
“Is this okay?” I ask, my voice no louder than a whisper.
“Hell, yes,” he says, and takes my mouth again, the kiss hard and demanding, both hands in my hair. Then his hands slide down to cup my ass, pressing me into him, his demand answered by the throb between my legs. The wanting I felt a moment ago is nothing to the hunger that opens up in me.
He pulls me to the bed, coming down on top of me for a slow, fervent kiss. Then he’s moving lower. I watch, breathless, as he unzips each boot and pulls it off. On his way back up his hands trace the place where my stockings stop, mid-thigh.
“These make me insane,” he whispers, kissing the skin just above them. “I’ve been thinking about them ever since you left.”
His thumbs skim along my bare skin, and I draw my knees up, letting him get closer. My skirt falls to my waist, and he stares at the tiny pink triangle of my underwear. Leaning down, he puts his nose to me and breathes.
“Casey,” I gasp, my hips lifting into him.
He gives a strangled moan and comes back up to me. He settles between my thighs, his weight balanced on his forearms, and it feels so good and right. When his mouth comes back to mine, he takes the kiss deep again, but slow and rhythmic, an echo of the throb between my legs.
Everything’s happening faster than I expected it to, my need closer to the surface than before. Then he rolls, taking me with him. I’m sprawled across his hard, aroused body, his hands on my hips anchoring me there.
“Why’d you do that?” I pant. “I liked it before.”
His hands slide beneath my shirt, thumbs skimming the underside of each breast. “I needed to slow down. Plus, this way you can figure out what you want. On top I can’t help running the show.”
“I like the way you run the show,” I say, my voice breathless from what his hands are doing to me.
He groans, and I realize that I’m pressing myself into him where our bodies come together. He thrusts his hips, and the feeling is so incredible my head falls forward. I do what he did and lean on my forearms and kiss him, enjoying the freedom I have to move the way I want.
I drop light teasing kisses and then deeper ones, experimenting to feel his reactions. Moving lower, I kiss his neck like I’ve been wanting to do. I even take a tiny lick to see what he tastes like and find a trace of salt. I breathe him in, working my way down his chest, raking my fingers through the golden hair sprinkled over hard muscle until I get to his flat abs. He groans when I drag his zipper down over his huge hard-on, and his eyes when they look at me are deep blue and filled with such intensity, I lose a breath.
“Take these off,” I say, rolling to the side. My voice catches a bit, out of nerves, but he’s definitely ready to comply.
He hooks his thumbs in the waistband. “Just my jeans, or everything?”
“Just the jeans, for now.”
Sitting up, he quickly shucks shoes, socks, and pants. Then he lies back down in his black boxer briefs, like an ad for Ralph Lauren. My own crazy hot man lying stretched out and waiting, slumberous eyes and all.
“Hannah.”
Just that, my name, but it’s a warning and a plea all at once. I climb back on him, and his hands run up my arms and in
to my hair, restless and urgent. Then I’m touching him, skimming over his muscled thigh to cup him in my palm. His hips jerk and he groans as I move my hand, rubbing, feeling him through the soft fabric. He’s so hard and clearly ready for more.
I love how he focuses on me like there’s nothing else in the world. That’s how I feel when I’m with him. Everything else fades away—my fears, my shyness, my ideas about myself. I’m too busy taking in every breath and heartbeat and moan.
Brian never stood a chance.
I nuzzle into his neck, reveling in his salty taste and thrumming pulse. His hands slide down to cup my ass, and I push myself up so I can look down at his beautiful face. My eyes have adjusted, and I can make out the tense lines of his jaw. Those blue eyes are a deep indigo in the dim light. And his mouth, dear God.
And then we’re kissing like it’s the last thing we’ll ever do. Deep, open-mouthed kisses and I’m melting into him, our bodies moving together, after the same thing. I want to touch every inch of his skin, taste every inch, the need so sharp I can barely breathe.
“Casey, please.”
I’m not sure what I’m begging for, but I know he can give it to me.
He turns us so I’m beneath him and pushes my legs apart with his knee, kissing me senseless as he grinds against me. Cupping my breast in one big hand, he lightly rubs his thumb back and forth until my nipple pebbles, the feeling so exquisite I buck against him. Then his mouth replaces his hand, and I pull my knees up and wrap my arms around him.
Every move he makes rubs right against my core, until all I can think is more.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he pants.
I watch him, breathless with excitement, as his face gets hard and his eyes close. Each thrust brings me closer to the edge, the friction against my damp underwear making me insane.
My nails are biting into his back and I’m gasping for breath when he groans and shudders against me.
I hold him tight as he lies there on top of me, warm and delicious in my arms.
When he lifts his head and looks at me his eyes are dazed. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t hold it back.”
“Was that…did you just come?”
He gives a gentle laugh. “Yeah. I hope that wasn’t too weird.”
“I’m glad I make you feel good.”
He rolls so that he’s facing me and slides a hand over my hip. “Now it’s your turn.”
I move until I’m right up against him.
“You close?” he asks.
I nod and squirm a little.
“Mmm. Let’s see what we can do about that.”
He’s watching me, taking everything in. Pushing up my skirt, his fingers slide up my thigh and trace along the top of my stocking. I want it to go on forever, and I want it to stop so he’ll give me what I really need.
“Do you have any idea how much you turn me on?” he asks, looking up from where his fingers are tormenting me. “When I saw you in the hallway, I thought I’d lose it.”
I curl my fingers around his biceps and rock toward him. He must see I’m well past teasing. His hand slips under the elastic of my underwear, and oh God, his fingers. They dip between my legs, cupping me. I let out a moan and instinctively press into his hand. He rewards me with the stroke of his finger, first light and then with more pressure.
“Casey…”
“Don’t worry, babe. I’ve got you.” He grabs my leg and stretches it over his thigh, opening me up even more. I’ve never felt so vulnerable, so cherished and needy.
Within seconds I’m clutching his arm as heat rushes through me. He stokes me higher, his rough voice praising how wet I am, how sexy. His finger slides into my folds and then deeper, slipping inside and back out, and the feeling’s so acute it’s almost painful.
“Does that feel good?” he asks, his voice an aching whisper in my ear.
“Yes, please don’t stop,” I gasp. “Please, Casey.”
In answer, he bends down and sucks on my nipple, scraping lightly with his teeth. I hang there, taut and throbbing and desperate, a little terrified to be so out of control. Then his finger slides against me again and I break over the edge. Shaking and gasping, I moan as pleasure pulses through me like waves of sound.
He kisses my neck and pulls me close, stroking my back as I tremble against him. “You’re amazing.”
I’m boneless as a rag doll, my limbs shaky and useless. When I can finally speak, I’m not sure what to say. I’ve never been naked and panting and delirious with anyone before.
“Thank you,” I finally manage. “That was amazing.”
“Thank you?” he says, looking amused.
“I’m just trying to be polite. You went to a lot of trouble.”
“I’d do just about anything to hear you say my name like that.”
“I didn’t…” But it’s no use. I totally did.
He runs a finger lightly between my breasts. “You worked up a pretty good sweat.”
I push my hair back from my face and look down at myself. Yep, I’m pretty sweaty. So is he. His hair is darker at the hairline, and there’s a sheen of perspiration on his cheeks. A strange ache opens up in my chest.
I brush a thumb over his cheekbone. “I didn’t expect it to be like that.”
“Oh yeah? What did you expect?”
“I didn’t think I’d feel so…so crazed.”
He laughs and kisses me on the mouth. “Tell me about it. You’ve pretty much discovered the secret to the human condition.”
I stroke a hand down his side. “I think I might be a sex addict. I really want to do it again.”
Casey laughs so hard he has tears in his eyes. “I’ve created a monster,” he says, in between fits of laughter.
“It’s not that funny.”
Eventually he manages to calm himself down. Rolling on top of me, he gives me a slow, devastating smile. “Just you wait. We haven’t even gotten to the best stuff yet.”
“You mean, like sex?”
“Well, yeah, but other things. Like licking you until you scream.”
“Oh. Right. Is that, um…is that next?”
“God, you’re adorable,” he says, smiling at me, like I’m something truly unique. “I’ve never seen anyone blush like you do.”
“I can’t help it.”
“You don’t have to. It’s nice.”
“I hate it. It makes me feel even more virginy.”
He’s looking at me with something like tenderness mixed with amusement and maybe a shot of lust. “Speaking of being virginy, I didn’t mean we have to have sex. I mean, I’d love to have sex with you. It’s pretty much all I think about. But what we’ve been doing is awesome.”
“I think about it, too. When I’m with you like this and we’re all hot and heavy, it seems like a great idea. But I’m not sure yet if we should. You know, since we’re technically not a thing.”
He rolls onto his back and looks at the ceiling. “Right. That makes sense.”
“I wanted to get it out of the way, so I don’t know why I’m getting all hung up on it. But it seems like a big deal to me, even more now than it did before.”
He turns back toward me, his eyes serious but warm. “It is a big deal, Hannah. We’ll only do it if you’re sure. It would kill me if you regretted it.”
“Okay,” I say, relieved that I haven’t ruined anything. “You’ll be the first to know.”
We lay there another minute, not saying anything. He’s so close I can feel—or maybe sense—his slow breaths in and out.
“I never pictured this part.” My voice is low, like I’m telling him a secret. Maybe I am.
“You mean the after part?” He sounds a little sleepy, and his eyes are dark and heavy-lidded.
“I’ve always been so busy trying to imagine all the other stuff. But this is…”
>
“Yeah?”
“This is pretty nice, too.”
His smile is so sweet, my heart bumps a couple extra times in response. His hand slides over the sheets and takes mine.
An emotion I don’t recognize swells in my chest—filling me up and hollowing me out at the same time. I close my eyes to ward off tears—and to hide from Casey. I’m not sure what’s happening, I only know I’ve felt more in the last hour than I have in my entire lifetime.
If I stay here much longer, I’ll start thinking we’re something we’re not.
When I open my eyes again, he’s looking at me.
“I’d better go.”
He lets go of my hand to sit up. “Right, it’s getting late.”
I slide out of bed and start pulling on my clothes. I don’t look at him again until I’m fully dressed.
“Good night, Casey.”
His expression is pensive, but then he smiles and everything’s all right again.
“’Night, Hannah.”
Chapter Fourteen
Monday morning I call the Johns Hopkins office to schedule my interview. My choices are two Fridays from now or right before Thanksgiving, so I take the Friday.
“Any chance you can drive to Baltimore with me next Friday?” I ask Audrey when she comes in a little while later.
“I totally would, but I have interviews that day for a story, and they took forever to nail down. I’m really sorry.”
I’m kind of dreading the thought of doing the drive by myself, but that’s probably what I’ll end up doing. Who—besides Audrey—would give up their Friday to go on a boring, nine-hour round trip drive to Baltimore?
“Don’t worry about it,” I tell her. “Want to get lunch?”
We get to the dining room and head for our favorite food stations. Miraculously, I find Casey sitting alone at a table, a textbook open in front of him while he eats some kind of stew. I haven’t seen him since Thursday night, and in the bright light of day I don’t know how I should act.
“Hey, Casey. Are you busy?”
He looks up, his instantaneous smile reassuring me at once. “Nah. I can read this later,” he says, closing the book.
