“No,” I say, cutting her off as my eyes roam her face. God, she’s fucking beautiful. I’m not sure how I ever thought I’d be able to sit across from her and only counsel her. “Don’t doubt it. Don’t doubt that what I’m saying is true.”
“I don’t want to be a burden. I’ve already overstepped. You’re my therapi?—”
I act, because it’s the only thing my brain can think of doing as she tries to convince herself she shouldn’t be here.
This is the only place sheshouldbe.
With me and in an environment that makes her feel validated and safe.
My palms cover her cheeks, and I slowly, but quickly, pull her to me, bringing her to her feet. My mouth is on hers before I can properly taste her breath. My lips press against hers, gliding in perfect harmony as I show her how fucking important she is to me. In this moment and beyond.
I’m not greedy with my tongue. There’s not an urgency that says this needs to move into something more as soon as possible. Instead, it’s a quiet promise that I will keep until my dying day, because I’m not letting her go.
I won’t. Not when she’s the one who’s slowly making my heart beat for something worthwhile again. My ex won’t get the last laugh. There’s happiness out there that belongs to me.
My mouth brushes over her soft lips one more time, and then I pull away, our breaths mingling in quiet tune to the beat of our hearts.
With my eyes closed, I press my forehead to hers and say, “Move in with me.”
I feel the shaky breath she lets out. It caresses my chin and lips, making me fearful that she isn’t feeling what I am.
“Dawson, I?—”
“I can’t be your therapist anymore,” I tell her. “I want to be there for you. I want to help you through what you’re going through now and whatever will come up in the future, but I don’t want to do that from a chair across the room from you.” I inhale her scent and remember the taste of her mouth, how it’s all I’ve wanted since the very beginning.
She should’ve been mine since the moment I laid eyes on her.
“Are you sure?” She says it in a whisper. “I mean, I literally just broke up with my fiancé. Should we really be doing this?”
“Sometimes,” I breathe out, “the best things for us don’t make sense. It’s less about the logic and more about what we feel inside our bodies. So, what’s yours telling you?”
My heart beats rapidly in my chest as I wait for her to answer, as small puffs of air plume out of her mouth and spread over my skin.
Her voice is just barely audible when she says, “It’s telling me that it wants to be around you, Dawson. You make me feel safe, heard, like I’m not crazy for the fears I have and the things I think about.”
That’s the only answer I need. It’s confirmation enough that, while this all seems a little wild, this is exactly what we should be doing. Maybe because this was meant to be the outcome all along. Perhaps fate really did have her falling in that water.
I shift my head, dropping my chin lower so I can press a kiss to her lips. My mouth moves languidly against hers, causing a soft sigh to slip up her throat. I inhale it, using it as oxygen as I allow my lungs to open up and take her in.
I’ll make it my life’s goal to learn every damn thing about her. All the things that make her happy. The things that annoy her. The movies that make up her life, and the moments that make her cry.
When she murmurs my name in a breathy whimper, my muscles tighten, my stomach constricting under the promise of how wildly amazing it would be to be with her. To tease her. To taste her. To drink in every last drop of her arousal as it wets her inner thighs, all due to my hands and mouth on her.
“Keep saying my name like that,” I growl in a low voice, “and I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be able to keep my hands to myself.”
My eyes, hazy in the loss of all sense, watch as she bites down on the corner of her lip. And then she damn near brings me to my knees when she asks, “Do you want to touch me, Dr. Cole?”
A flare of excitement hits me at the way she says it, but also because she uses my working name, title and all. My cock grows as I drag my hand down her arm and lower my mouth to thecrook of her neck. Her skin is soft there, and I bite, sucking it into my mouth with a painful spark that makes her moan.
“I would absolutely love to touch you.” My mouth leaves wet trails across her skin, and that familiar ache that feels so damn good sinks into my balls. I’m hard in less than a minute.
All I can think about is her, the way everything about her takes up all the space in my mind. To say I’m obsessed would be an understatement. Hell, I’ve never been this enamored by someone, nor so quickly.
This intense urge to touch myself takes root, but I won’t do that—not until she’s fully satisfied, and the flavor of that is on my tongue and fingers.
“Then maybe you should,” she says.
“I don’t know how much patience I’m going to have,” I say as I continue to pepper kisses on her. I go as far as pulling her shirt to the side and giving her shoulder attention. I’d lick up and down her entire body if she let me.
