I shudder, months of loneliness and repressed desire surging back into painful awareness.Help. Will it still feel like helping in the morning?
But then again, in the morning, I’ll be run off my feet with rounds and consults. In the morning, it won’t matter that I’m lonely. I’ll be too busy to be lonely.
Just like I was too busy for Garrett when he was mine.
“I’d owe you one,” I joke. “That could get complicated.”
He doesn’t laugh.
He just spins me around and presses me against the door. And somehow, he manages not to touch any bare skin until he brushes his fingertips against my wrist.
“You’re wearing a lot of clothes for a girl who wants to come,” he whispers, his breath warm against the back of my neck. “I’m going to take them off you.”
I shiver and nod as he tugs my sleeve off. I help despite the alarm bells going off in my head, pulling my arms in, and then he slides it over my head.
He groans when he sees I’m wearing a lacy tank top underneath it, and I shouldn’t feel a rush of something like pride at having an effect on him, but there it is anyway. A wild, roiling sensation that leaves me feeling reckless.
I twist my head to the side, thinking I might kiss him, but his hand slides into my hair, stopping me. He gently presses my cheek back to the door.
“Hold still for me,” he urges. “Just…feel.”
His other hand trails over my shoulder and down myarm, catching my wrist, tugging it above my head and stretching me onto my tiptoes.
“Okay?”
I nod. Yeah. More than okay. The noise in my head fades to a muzzy static, and he slides his touch down my arm again, down my front this time, into my tank top.
“Fuck,” he whispers when he cups my breast.
I know. I can feel it, too. My nipple is so hard against his palm, straining against his touch.
My thighs shake as I hold myself up on my toes.
Time freezes for a charged, confusing beat. Garrett breathing against the back of my neck, curving over me. My head spinning as he just holds my tit and makes me stay in that stretched up position.
Waiting and wanting.
And then, with a growl, he pulls off my tank top before pressing his hips in against me. I can feel his erection, thick and hard against my butt, and as he cups my bared breasts in his hands, his face falls to the curve of my neck.
It’s a relief knowing he’s turned on, too. But that pulse of awareness is followed immediately by another bolt of irritation, that this is so easy for him.
“You’re so fucking hot.” He drags in a breath, then slides one hand down my bare belly, his fingertips pushing along the waistband of my sleep shorts. “Let’s get you to bed.”
“I don’t need to be tucked in.” The words rush out of me, getting tighter as my throat feels like it’s going to close up.
I can’t handle him in the bed we once shared.
He pushes his hand just into my panties. Still teasing. Unaffected by my flutter of panic. “Couch, then?”
“Here’s just fine by me.” I push my ass back against his erection. “Make it quick against the door?”
He huffs a laugh against my temple. “That eager to kick me out?”
“Just trying to keep it simple.”
“I’ll leave my boots on, then. Any other demands? Lights on or off?”
We’ve always been lights on people, so I’m guessing he’s asking if I want to pretend this is more anonymous or something.
