by Donna Hill
Dina ran the pad of her thumb across the swollen head, teasing out the first dew drops while she cupped the weight of his sack in her palm.
Franklin groaned from the pit of his stomach, grabbed her hand and covered it with his.
“I want to feel you,” Dina whispered, “inside me.” She slid back on the bed, propped up by the thick pillows. She bent her knees, parted her thighs, extended her hand in invitation.
“Damn, woman.”
On his hands and knees he moved up her body, placed kisses along the way until he was braced above her, her knees tight against his waist. He lowered his head and kissed her, long, deep and slow.
There was no turning back now. He reached into the nightstand and took out a condom packet, ripped it open.
Dina’s breathing escalated. She took the condom from him. “Let me,” she whispered, looking him deep in his eyes. Slowly she rolled the thin sheath along the length of him, barely covering him halfway. She smiled, tossed the empty packet aside and slid her arms around his neck. She searched his expression in the moonlight, stroked his lip with the pad of her thumb.
Franklin pressed against the wet slit of her opening. Dina gasped, held him tighter. Her eyes squeezed shut. He filled her in one long stroke that rocked them both, pushed the air out of her lungs.
Dina wrapped herself around him, wanting to melt into him, give him all of her. The feel of Franklin inside her, moving within her, was pure bliss. She whispered his name over and over as waves of pleasure rose higher and higher. She clung tighter, dizzy from the power of his thrusts. Her body was on fire, every nerve tingled.
Damn, it felt good, deep-down-to-the-soul good. He was as skilled in the bed as he was in surgery. He left no part of her unattended. His hands, his mouth pleasured her flesh while the rhythmic strokes pleasured her soul.
“Dina...” he groaned. “So good, baby.” His movements quickened. His fingers raked through her hair, pulled her mouth against his mouth.
She could barely breathe as their pace intensified, the thrill flashed and popped. She never wanted this feeling to end, but the wave grew, gained strength. She couldn’t stop it as it crested, engulfed her, pulled her under with its power. Her insides seized the full length of him, gripping and releasing him as he pushed them both over the edge.
Chapter 19
The force of his release stunned him, left him shaken. He wanted to stay buried deep within the velvet of her warmth. Put the world on hold. He gently stroked her hip, kissed her lightly swollen lips. Her heart pounded against his chest until his seemed to merge with hers into a single heartbeat.
He lowered his head between her neck and the pillow. Just sex. Good sex, but that was all. Simply because it felt damned good didn’t mean that it was anything more than two consenting adults fulfilling a physical attraction. This was merely the endgame to a bet. Her insides flexed around him. Dammit. He was still hard. She lifted her hips.
“I need you again,” she whispered in his ear and draped her legs around his back.
He lifted his head and looked at her. The wet walls gripped him again. He bit down on his lip to keep from hollering.
Dina wound her hips again.
Franklin moaned in pleasure. “Whatever you want...”
* * *
Dina listened to Franklin’s steady breathing, felt the weight of his leg that was flung across hers, holding her in place. His heart thumped against her palm. She wasn’t sure what she expected other than to have sex with a man whom she found utterly tempting. But something else happened. Maybe it had been so long since her last roll in the hay that she was thinking and feeling more than what was really happening. Sure, she’d flirted with him, just a little. She found Franklin Grant sexy, mysterious, complex and those things intrigued her. There was the rebellious part of her that wanted to break through the reserved wall he built around himself. She had no delusions that they could be “a thing.” That wasn’t what she came to DC for. So, whatever this was that she thought she was feeling was no more than afterglow, a fairy tale.
Her lids fluttered, grew heavy. She slept.
* * *
Franklin sat shirtless at his kitchen counter nursing his first cup of coffee while reviewing case notes on an upcoming surgery. It was complicated; the patient was high-risk but the patient along with the family—major hospital donors—insisted that the surgery be done. He didn’t feel good about it, but he was confident that the operation would be successful—difficult but successful.
He sipped his coffee. Surgery, at the moment, was the least of his concerns. This thing with Dina was a different story. Should have never happened. He’d crossed his own invisible line. Not only was she a colleague, now she was a colleague that he was falling for. Double the trouble. If things went wrong it could be problematic for them working together. But he couldn’t escape the fact that it was more than good sex, scratching an itch or winning a bet.
“Good morning.”
He turned halfway on the stool and was hit right in the center of his chest when he saw her. Damn. She was sexier in his oversize shirt than in that turn-on dress from the night before. She had a glow or maybe he was imaging things.
“Hey. Good morning.”
She slowly crossed the room. He tried to ignore those incredible legs that had been wrapped around him. Failed. Images of her moving beneath him flashed in front of him.
“Coffee,” she said, inhaling the aroma. “Please tell me there’s more.”
He chuckled, hopped down from his perch. “You’re in luck.” He took a mug from the cabinet and filled it. “Here ya go.” He placed the mug in front of her. “Half-and-half and sugar right there,” he said, pointing to both on the counter.
“Thanks.” She slid onto a stool and fixed her coffee.
“Sleep okay?”
She glanced at him from beneath her lashes. A teasing smile lifted the corners of her mouth. She leaned her elbows on the counter and slowly brought the cup to her lips. “Like a baby. You?”
“Best night’s sleep I’ve had in quite some time.”
She sipped her coffee, studied him over the rim. “I probably should get going.”
“Oh, I thought we could have breakfast.” He needed to let her leave. “We can go to the restaurant downstairs. They make the best Belgian waffles.”
She laughed. “And have me do the stroll of shame?”
He frowned.
“Prancing around for breakfast still dressed in my party outfit.”
His eyes widened. “Ohhh. Yeah. There’s that.” He hesitated. “We could order. Have them deliver. Pretty sure I have a menu.”
“In that case, I’m starved!”
He chuckled. “I’ll find the menu.” He got up.
“Um, do you mind if I use your shower?”
A vision of her naked and wet materialized in front of him. His groin tightened. “Yeah, yeah sure.”
She finished her coffee, set the cup down and stood.
“Let me get you some clean towels.” He led the way to the bathroom that was more like a spa.
“This bathroom is almost as big as my living room,” she joked.
He chuckled. “Growing up with two brothers and having to share bath time and bedrooms, I always promised myself I’d make up for it when I had the chance.” He opened a closet and took out a thick towel and washcloth.
She took the towels from him. “Seems you’ve come a long way on a lot of fronts.”
He studied her for a moment, reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear. His finger drifted along her jaw. Her lips parted ever so slightly. “It’s been a while since...”
“Since?”
“I woke up with someone in my bed.”
He watched the pulse flutter at the base of her throat.
Her fingers went to the buttons of her shirt, unfastened them one by one
without taking her eyes off him.
His jaw flexed.
She parted the shirt. Her breasts enticingly rose and fell as her breathing elevated.
He slid the shirt off her left shoulder then her right. She let it glide to the floor presenting her nakedness.
Franklin hummed with pleasure deep in his throat, taking a moment to truly feast on her in the light of day.
“You. Are. Incredible.” He leaned in for a kiss.
Dina looped her arms around his neck, curved her body to seal with his. The need that they’d felt the night before to explore, discover, unwrap was now replaced with a hunger from knowing what to anticipate. Knowing what was in store, knowing what the other was capable of, the heights that could be reached. This knowing fueled their need.
Franklin’s mouth, his hands took back what had been his the night before. The feel of her skin beneath his fingertips, the soft scent of her, the sensation of her hair dusting across his chest, the wet welcome between her legs, had him crazed with need. His erection was almost painful, and he nearly burst when Dina began a steady stroking of him. But it took all his self-control not to explode when she slid down to her knees and took him into her mouth.
Franklin groaned in exquisite agony. His long fingers raked through her hair, held her head as he reared back and gave himself over to her. But only for a moment. What she was doing with her mouth was pure witchcraft.
He pulled her to her feet, spun her around, leaned her over the sink and entered her in one deep thrust.
Dina cried out with pleasure, reached behind her and cupped his rear to pull him even tighter.
Their reflection in the oversize mirror was one straight out of a book of erotica and a total turn-on. Their hot, naked, sweaty bodies, wild hair, bouncing breasts and bulging muscles all created the tableau, raised their temperatures and steamed the room.
Moans, sighs and whimpers blended with the sound of damp flesh slapping against damp flesh, the tempo rising.
Franklin grabbed her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh as he pounded into her, riding toward release.
Dina grabbed the edge of the counter, lifted up on her toes and threw him a twerk move that shot them both over the edge.
Their cries echoed off the porcelain walls.
* * *
“Damn,” Franklin groaned, leaning over her. He kissed the back of her neck, slid his arms beneath her to caress her breasts.
Dina sighed as the quickening in her walls calmed and they finally released their hold on Franklin. She slowly turned herself around to face him, looked into his eyes that still held a look of hunger. “I think I’ll take that shower now.” She kissed his lips and sauntered off to the shower, making a show of bending and turning and testing the water.
Franklin savored the perfection of the body that had him still hard with need, and knew he was in deep trouble.
Chapter 20
“You were right,” Dina said, closing her eyes in euphoria. “These are the best waffles I’ve ever tasted in my entire existence.”
Franklin tossed his head back and laughed. “Could it be that we worked up an appetite?”
She gave him a sideways look, wagged her fork at him. “There’s that, too.”
He pushed up from the table and took his empty plate to the sink, then refilled his mug of coffee. He offered more to Dina, but she waved him off.
She picked up her cell phone and checked the time. “I really do need to get home.”
He took her empty plate to the sink. “I’ll drive you.”
“I can take an Uber.”
“I know. But I’ll drive you. Give me ten minutes.” He came around, gave her a light kiss, then walked off toward his bedroom.
Dina drew in a long breath, looked around and tried to take everything in. There was a secret part of her that had imagined herself with Franklin. But nothing prepared her for the actual experience. Franklin was unlike other men she’d been with. He wasn’t the kind of guy who used his status as some sort of magical potion to attract women. If anything, he seemed to downplay who he was and what he’d achieved. It was easy to see why he’d been mislabeled as standoffish, elitist even. Franklin Grant was none of those things.
She rested her chin on her fist. Falling for him did not fit into her plans. Should she be offered a position at Jameson, she didn’t ever want it to appear that there was favoritism because she was sleeping with a powerful man, even if on paper they were equals. She was an outsider and that alone could be seen as an issue for some, combined with an on-the-job relationship. That was not the reputation she wanted for herself. She’d seen what it could do to a career. Her one friend in California, Sydney, was a great doctor with so much potential, but much like Anna, she second-guessed herself. Sydney always believed that as a woman the only way to get ahead was to have the backing of a man, preferably a man in power. The scandal that resulted from Sydney’s affair with the chair of the department led to her dismissal and a slap on the wrist for the chair. She feared the same thing for Anna, and she had no intention of going down that road, which would mean that there was no way that whatever this was between her and Franklin could ever get out. Besides, Franklin didn’t give her any indication that he wanted more, and that was fine with her, which meant that it had to stop.
Her stomach knotted. Being with him, thinking of him, making love with him...how could she stop?
“Ready.”
Her head popped up. He was swinging her sling-backs off the edge of his fingers, and when her gaze landed on him that seesaw, giddy feeling took over. Damn. She got up and nipped the shoes from his hand. “Thanks.” She stepped into her shoes and took her phone from the counter. Her hands were shaking.
* * *
“Safe and sound,” he said when they pulled to a stop in front of her house.
“Thank you.” She focused on her purse because if she looked at him...
“Um, I know that we both agreed that this was temporary—”
She held up her hand. “No. Look, like I said, I’m a big girl and I knew what I was doing. You don’t have to worry.” She forced herself to smile.
He looked at her through narrowed eyes, gave a slight shrug. “All right then.” He pressed a button in the armrest and the seat belt disengaged.
She gripped the door handle, kept her face away from him. “See you at the office.” She hoped she sounded light and airy, and not the way she actually felt. She opened the door and walked down the short path to her house without looking back.
* * *
Franklin sat in the Jag for several minutes, waiting for what, he wasn’t sure. Maybe hoping that she would come back out and tell him she didn’t mean any of what she’d just said. That was not going to happen.
He put the car in Drive and pulled off. From the moment he’d asked her to the party he kept telling himself that it was only a bet with this brothers that he’d wanted to win. Thinking of it that way kept feelings at a distance, made it all very surgical. But he knew how easily even the best-planned surgery could go wrong. Ten years later and that day still haunted him. He thought he’d been prepared. He’d studied the charts, knew the procedure inside and out; the patient was the perfect candidate. None of that mattered. Bad reaction to the anesthesia. He did everything he could to save him.
The board cleared him of any wrongdoing, and the malpractice suit fell flat when the wife revealed that her husband had not been totally honest in his medical history so that he would be eligible for the surgery. Nevertheless, the loss shook him. He questioned not only his skills but his decision-making, his ability to read people. Mastering those skills had been the hallmark of his success. Back then, all that came into question. What that devastating loss did accomplish, however, was to force him to add another layer of distance between himself and others and to be hypervigilant in his assessment of anyone who came into his life. That was
the plan. He’d stumbled once, with Lindsay, dusted himself off and returned to Plan A.
Then came Dina Hamilton. Every rule he’d carved out for himself he broke when it came to her—especially the rule of not getting involved with a colleague. The image of their reflection in the bathroom mirror flashed in front of him. His penis jumped to attention. He groaned deep in his throat.
The blare of a car horn jerked him to attention. He was sitting at a green light. He lifted his hand to signal his apology to the driver behind him and quickly drove across the intersection.
Chapter 21
Dina stretched out on the couch, mindlessly television surfing. She should have asked him to come in. She bit down into an apple, chewed slowly. There were a little more than two months left of her fellowship. The right thing to do was to simply toss last night up to a fling and forget about it.
She couldn’t. She couldn’t ignore the memory of his fingers stroking her skin, the way he tasted or looked at her with such wonder in his eyes, the way she felt with him inside her, the way her chin fit right into the hollow of his neck or how their bodies were pieces that each other needed to be complete.
If anything, being with Franklin last night, the entire evening, actually, right up to when he dropped her off, only solidified the feelings that she’d been trying to ignore for months. But it was clear that he fully expected that there was nothing going on, no commitments, no expectations. She’d agreed—in the beginning. At first it was fun to flirt, to challenge him, to see him react to her. Now she wanted to believe that what they shared last night was more than just a roll in the hay between consenting adults.
She sighed heavily and curled on her side. The Sex and the City movie is on, the part when Miranda is alone on New Year’s Eve and her bestie Carrie travels by train from Manhattan to Brooklyn in the snow to be with her friend. That scene always got to her. That was true friendship, a friendship she longed for.
