by J. H. Croix
Then, there was the way he looked at me. Oh, and the fact he kissed me and I could hardly stop thinking about it. In fact, I’d had a few hot and bothered fantasies about those strong hands of his all over my body. Just now, here in the sterile break room that doubled as a changing room for surgeons and where anyone could walk in, I flushed straight through. I could feel the slick heat between my thighs and took a shaky breath. The effect Liam had on me was getting ridiculous. I wished he hadn’t kissed me. Better yet, I wished I’d had the will to shove him away. As it was, I hadn’t. All I could do was be grateful I’d managed to keep my cool and operate as I always did. Now came the hard part. I needed to check on him in the recovery room and have a few follow up appointments over the next few weeks. Once those were done, I could turn him over the nursing and physical therapy team.
I was rattled by how much I wanted him. It was all made worse by the fact that I’d never been this attracted to anyone. I’d been so confident in my ability not to be affected by men that I felt like a fool. All Liam had to do was exist in my presence, and my body was electrified with heat and need. With a mental shake, I tugged on a clean set of scrubs and walked down the hall toward the recovery room. Our facility offered private recovery rooms for all patients, a perk most clinics didn’t provide. As I got closer to the door to Liam’s room, my pulse picked up and heat spun inside. This was beyond ridiculous. I was checking on a patient. It was completely inappropriate to be thinking or feeling anything about him. My body had other ideas.
I entered the room to find Liam’s friend Alex slouched in a chair by the bed. He looked up, his brown hair mussed. For the first time, I noticed how he looked. Like Liam, he had a body of pure muscle. He was taller and exuded a powerful sense of quiet. I knew from Daisy that Alex was considered one of the best goalkeepers in the world. I could see why, not because I’d ever seen him play, but more because of the sense of calm alertness he gave off. I doubted he ever lost focus. He stood and gave his shoulders a shake as he rounded the foot of the bed.
I met him there and quickly tapped the screen at the foot of the bed, which contained the data from Liam’s vitals in the hour since the surgery. “Everything looks good,” I said, keeping my voice low.
I looked up into Alex’s brown eyes to see him nodding. “Good then,” he said.
“Bloody hell. You two don’t have to whisper.”
Alex and I swung in unison to look toward Liam. He looked groggy, as he should, but he was definitely awake. Reflexively, I stepped to the side of the bed, resting a hand on his hip. Alex went to the other side of the bed and looked down at Liam.
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
“Thirsty,” Liam replied. Even groggy from surgery, he managed a slight grin.
I turned to the table by his bed and quickly poured a small cup of water. As he took it from me, a phone rang. Well, it didn’t actually ring. A song erupted—to be specific, the Beatles, All You Need is Love. Liam’s weak grin expanded.
Alex muttered something and yanked his phone out. “It’s Dr. Monroe,” he said, flicking his eyes from the screen to Liam and I. “He’ll be expecting an update.”
“Go ahead and tell him the surgery went well, and I’ll call him later,” I replied.
Alex nodded and turned away to answer the phone, stepping to the windows as he did. I glanced down at Liam. “I suspect he’ll want to stop by. He called this morning requesting to come by before your prep. I turned him away.”
Liam’s eyes widened. He gulped the remainder of water in the cup I’d handed him and set it on the bed. I reached to move it to the table, but he caught my hand in his and gave it a squeeze. “I bloody love how bossy you are.”
I flushed and tried to distract myself with a stern look at him. “Now is not the time to flirt, Liam.” Desperate to distract myself from how easily he affected me, I collected my thoughts and focused on the practical matters. “Aside from thirsty, how are you feeling?”
“Fuzzy. Not a bit of pain, not even a wee bit. I suppose this nice woozy feeling will pass though.”
“Soon enough. You shouldn’t have too much pain though. Like I said, the tear wasn’t too bad. You’ll have some soreness and then you’ll need to take it easy for a few days before you start physical therapy.”
For a flash, uncertainty flickered in the back of Liam’s bright blue eyes. This man—this cocky, swoon-worthy man who’d spun me in circles inside and kissed me senseless—elicited a sudden pang of empathy from me. I could only guess at how frightening this experience must be for him. It wasn’t about the pain. A meniscus tear was by no means a life-threatening medical issue, yet for a man whose life was built on his physical prowess and athletic skill, well, it held the potential to thwart his entire career.
I didn’t realize I gave his hand a squeeze until I felt him squeeze in return. At that moment, Alex turned back from the windows. “Dr. Monroe said he’s coming by and he doesn’t give a damn if you want him to wait,” Alex said, his eyes on me.
I slipped my hand free from Liam’s, suddenly aware of just how unprofessional it was to be squeezing his hand. Wishing I wasn’t so prone to blushing, I swallowed and nodded. Normally, I’d be flat annoyed with Dr. Monroe, but I was off kilter due to Liam’s effect on me. I looked down to Liam. “Is that okay with you? If not…”
“Don’t you worry. I can handle Dr. Monroe,” Liam said, his tone cheeky.
How a man who was half out of it from anesthesia managed to be cheeky, I didn’t know. I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “Fine then. I’ll stay with him while he’s here.”
Alex rested his hip on the far side of the bed. “I like you, Dr. Bowen,” he announced suddenly.
Puzzled at his comment, I looked over at him. Before I spoke, he continued. “You’re making sure Liam comes first, not the team. That’s why.” He glanced to Liam. “You need to stop teasing her, mate. She’s your doctor,” he said, his voice somber. His intent gaze swung back to me. “Don’t mind him, he can’t help himself sometimes.”
Liam leaned his head back against the pillows and sighed mightily. “Alex acts like my mum sometimes. That’s why he’s my best mate,” he said matter-of-factly.
At that, his eyes closed, and he promptly fell asleep.
I looked across at Alex and wondered if he sensed I was tossed asunder inside. Here I was, completely accustomed to keeping my cool at all times around athletes of all stripes, and I all a twitter inside over Liam. I wondered if Alex’s warning was as much for me as Liam.
Chapter Seven
Liam
I looked over at Coach and fought the urge to roll my eyes. His steely gaze met mine. “You’ll be here every other practice to observe and meet with the team and that’s final,” Coach said firmly.
It had been a full two weeks since my surgery, and I was bored with sitting on the sidelines at practices. Coach didn’t appear to give a damn. One of the things I liked about him was his absolute commitment to a team mindset. Right about now, that commitment meant he expected me to drag my sorry arse here every other day since I was part of the team.
“You’re not just a player on this team, you’re a leader. Act like it,” Coach said, his words hitting me right in my chest.
I swallowed against the tight feeling in my throat. I didn’t like thinking about how much this bloody knee injury had shaken my confidence. I hadn’t helped lead my last team to a championship by questioning myself. It was brutal to watch the team practice and watch hours of practice tapes, knowing I wouldn’t be back in play for another two months at best. Coach’s confidence in me, and faith I’d have a full recovery was hard to accept. I took a breath and met his gaze with a nod. I’d fake it to make it if I had to.
Coach leaned back in his chair and picked up a snow globe on his desk. He idly turned it in his hands. He was so damn perceptive, it made me want to squirm in my seat, so I was relieved to have him look away finally. I flexed and straightened my knee slightly, noticing the soreness was minimal.
What the hell? I had no idea why Coach chose now to mention my mum. Rubbing salt in the wound was how it felt. I was stumbling, literally and figuratively, around these days, and he had to go and pick now to talk about her. My heart gave a painfully hard thump, and my throat tightened again. I missed her. So damn much. I closed my eyes and blinked back the hot tears pressing there. Bloody hell. I couldn’t cry. Not here. Not now. Not in front of Coach. For once, I honed in on the lingering soreness in my knee. Most of the time, I preferred to pretend it didn’t hurt. But right now, that bit of physical pain was preferable to thinking about my mum and the stroke that had stolen her from us. After another moment, I managed to get a handle on myself and opened my eyes.
Coach’s gaze was no longer steely, but rather understanding. He was quiet and then nodded, almost as if to himself. “I know a bit about losing someone. I know it worries you that it’s affected your concentration. Maybe it has. Can’t say because I wasn’t your coach before. From what I know of you, you’re a good man and you loved your mother—that much is obvious. You can’t turn back the clock. All you can do is move forward with your eye on the ball, so to speak. You’re a helluva a player. If you have any weakness, it’s you don’t draw deep because you never had to. Think on that while you’ve some downtime.”
At that, he stood. He didn’t speak it aloud, but it was clear he understood I didn’t have it in me to respond to him right now. I managed to stand slowly and snagged my crutches on the way down the long hall from his office.
A few hours later, I waited in a chair at Olivia’s clinic. I’d been flat out running in my mind ever since Coach had met with me. Confused and casting about for what the hell he’d meant about me needing to ‘draw deep,’ I’d zoned in on thinking about Olivia. She was a most efficient distraction because she’d been driving me beyond mad. I’d had two appointments with her since the surgery, and she’d been nothing but calm, cool and professional in both despite the air fairly humming with electricity around us. I meant to have her, and I would.
The door to her examining room opened, and another patient exited. Olivia caught my eyes and held a finger up before turning back into the room. She was a bossy one and expected people to follow her orders. I surmised she meant for me to wait, so I didn’t. I stood and walked carefully to the examination room. I was using crutches most of the time, but left them leaning up against the wall. It wasn’t like they were going anywhere.
When I stepped through the door, Olivia was pulling a fresh sheet of paper from the rollers onto the table. I thanked the stars she hadn’t heard me. The rustle of the paper kept her from hearing me quietly close the door. Finally having a moment alone with her sent a lash of lust through me. With her leaning over the table, her delectable bottom was outlined for me. She wore a skirt today, which I liked. Quite a lot. It was a simple fitted skirt that came to her knees, nothing even the slightest bit scandalous about it. But I could imagine shoving it up over her hips and getting a taste of her. She straightened and turned, her eyes widening when she saw me. She wore a white lab coat over her skirt with a blue shirt underneath that stretched tight across her breasts. Oh, it was something to see her out of her scrubs. It wasn’t as if she was dressed to impress, it was just that she tempted me beyond all reason. My cock was rock hard and ready, and she hadn’t done a thing.
Her cheeks flushed, and she reached up to adjust her glasses and brush a random curl out of her eyes. “Liam…” She started to speak, but trailed off after she said my name. I waited, leashing the urge to step to her, lift her onto the table and slide my hands up her legs. She cleared her throat and gave her head a little shake. “How’s the knee feeling?” she asked, her words crisp and clear.
“Right as rain.” I closed the distance between us, stopping beside the table where her hip rested against it. “I hear from my PT guy that this is my last appointment with you unless I experience a delay in my recovery.” I knew I was standing a tad too close for her comfort, but I wanted to rattle her composure. There was that and this overwhelming need to be as close as possible to her. She was a challenge I wanted to win. I also craved being able to lose myself in the raw need she elicited. It was about the only thing that took my mind off worrying about my professional playing and Coach’s out of the blue comments about losing my mum.
I looked down at her and before I knew it, I lifted my hand and trailed a fingertip down her cheek. Her skin was like silk, and the soft flush on her cheeks against her creamy complexion sent a blast of heat through me. She reached up and adjusted her glasses again. Once I’d touched her, I couldn’t stop, so my finger trailed down her cheek and along her neck, brushing past the wild flutter of her pulse, which sent a wash of satisfaction through me. “I think we discussed that you didn’t have to worry about me being your patient soon,” I said, my voice coming out low and gruff.
Olivia’s green eyes slammed into mine as she shook her head. “Liam… We didn’t… We didn’t discuss anything like that. You did, but I didn’t. This isn’t…I can’t…” Her words came in fits and starts, her cheeks flushing deeper by the second.
I knew it bothered her to have me pursuing her, and not only did I not give a damn, but the naughtier she thought it was, the more I wanted her. I also knew, somewhere deep down inside, that the desire between us was like no other, and I had to experience it.
“Olivia, don’t go thinking we can’t do this because it’s not proper. It’s perfectly proper. This is my last appointment with you unless I have some complications, so that’s no good excuse. Let’s get this exam over with, so we can move on.” It took every ounce of discipline I had to step back and slide my hips onto the table when I wanted to turn her around, bend her over and sink inside. The only thing that got me through it was knowing the longer I dragged it out, the more she’d want me. It was hard to fathom wanting her more than I already did, but I was bound and determined to make sure she never, ever thought sex with me was boring. That meant this play had to be my A-game all the way and no rushing.
Olivia took a step back and snatched her computer tablet off the counter. I watched while she clicked through screens. The flush on her cheeks eased, while my cock stayed hard and ready. She barely looked my way as she commented that the latest MRI results looked good and asked a few questions about my physical therapy. Then came the good part. She set down the computer tablet and checked my knee, carefully testing the flexion. Even though her touch was impersonal, I loved having her hands on me. She stepped away and finally met my eyes. I winked, and her cheeks went cherry red again.
“Are we all done with that, doc?”
Olivia nodded. “Everything looks good. Unless you have trouble, you should be all set with your physical therapy schedule.” Her words came out raspy.
I watched her for a minute before sliding off the table. I’d come to know she liked to stand close when I did that, as if she was concerned I’d land wrong on my knee. She quickly stepped to my side and was there when my feet met the floor. Perfect. I slid my hands around her hips and turned, lifting her onto the table. I wasn’t quite sure how I pulled it off, but the angle was just so and I barely had to turn with both of us standing beside the table.
The little squeak that escaped from her lips was like a whip cracking inside me. I was standing between her knees and gave her hips a little tug, just enough that I could feel the heat of her against my cock. As much as I wanted to grind my hips into her, I didn’t. I wasn’t much for planning when it came to women, but I was when it came to Olivia. I wanted her to want me as badly as I wanted her, and I wanted to show her sex was anything but boring.
I let my eyes travel up her body, savoring the lush curves of her breasts, which were rising and falling with her rapid breath. Given that my heart was all but pounding its way out of my body, I was a bit relieved she was in a similar state. When my gaze met hers, her eyes were snapping.
> “Liam, what are you doing?” she asked. It sounded as if she was trying to be stern, but it didn’t quite come out that way. Her voice was breathy instead, the sound of it cracking the whip inside me again.
I reached up and removed her glasses. “I thought I’d give you a taste of something.”
She bit her lip and damn if that didn’t nearly make me lose control and nudge my cock against the heat of her. I clung to the edge of my control—it took all of my strength not to tumble loose into the desire heavy in the air around us.
I set her glasses down on the table beside us and reached up to pull one of those curls. Damn, even her curls made me crazy. She was so tidy and professional. I’d bet she had perfect scores in school and always followed the rules. She was wound so tight that those disobedient curls did something to me. A few had escaped from the tight knot she kept them in. I wound one around my finger and dragged it out before letting it loose where it bounced on her cheek. She was silent, her eyes dark, her pulse fluttering under her skin, and her breath coming in short pants. I gave in and nudged my hips into the cradle of hers, almost groaning aloud at the wet heat I could feel through the thin fabric of her panties. It was splendid that she was wearing a skirt, which had conveniently slid up her hips when I lifted her onto the table.
I gave in and reached one hand down to her ankle, curling around it and sliding up over the bare skin of her leg.
“Liam…” she said on a breath.
I dipped my head and dusted kisses along the side of her neck, savoring the feel of her pulse beating wildly there. “Mmm?” I asked in a mumble against her skin.
I dropped kisses along her collarbone while I slipped my other hand around her hips and pulled her a bit closer. My hand had reached her thigh, and I could feel her trembling. I didn’t stop and kept sliding up over the silk of her skin until I reached the hem of her skirt. For a few beats, I paused and then kept going, letting the fabric bunch over my wrist as I reached the juncture of her thighs. With her trembling under my touch and the feel and scent of her surrounding me, it was a damn miracle I didn’t tear her clothes off and sink into her right then and there. I had a goal and that goal was nothing short of earth shattering pleasure for her. So no rushing, not even a little.
