“Well, you’re in luck, because I just so happen to think that patience is overrated.”
I take in her face, heat evident in her own gaze. She’s turned on, and fuck, if that doesn’t make me throb. “You say that now. You might be singing an entirely different tune once we get started.”
“I think I’ll be okay, and if I’m not?—”
I move my head closer to hers and kiss her hard, our tongues tangling in a delicious mess. “If you’re not, then I’ll make sure you are, Emory. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
She grins, and it’s more lighthearted than the one she gave me earlier. I move higher, pressing kisses to the corners of her eyes. They’re still red and mildly puffy from her crying, but if I have any say over it, it’ll be the last damn time tears stain her pretty skin.
“Promise me,” she says in a voice that does things to me before adding, “Promise that you’ll take care of me in whatever ways I need, Dr. Cole.”
“Keep calling me doctor, and I just might spank you,” I say into her ear a moment before I clamp down on her earlobe, but then it hits me. “You like that, don’t you? You like referring to me asdoctor.”
“There’s something about knowing what we’re doing, and how forbidden it is, that turns me on.”
She hooks her fingers into her sweat bottoms, and she slowly shimmies her hips until they’re a pile on the floor. I suck in a sharp breath and look down, realizing that the underwear she’s wearing are skimpy. I could pull them off in one go. Shred them with my fingertips then plunge my tongue right into her center.
“No matter how close we get, there will be parts of you that’ll always be Dr. Cole to me.”
I drop my hand lower, skimming it over her stomach. My fingertips inch closer to her, dropping below her belly button and into her panties. The first thing I feel is the smoothness of her skin, then comes the roughness of her pubic hair, coarse strands scratching my palm enticingly.
My stomach fucking jumps, and I look down, taking note of the triangular patch of hair just above her clit.Fucking hell.“You were made for me,” I mutter, damn near drooling over the woman in front of me. I’ve always loved hair on a woman down there, especially when it’s well groomed.
My dick throbs a second time—though it’s probably happened more. I’m just too busy paying attention to her to count every single time it jumps in appreciation, in delirious excitement.
I smooth a finger over the hair that's cut short, and when I do, my hand slips, sliding over her sweet pussy at the perfect spot.
Her back arches, and she says, “Dr. Cole, don’t tease me.”
“You having this down here,” I cup her, running my fingertips over the patch, “is a tease in and of its goddamn self. You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”
“I guess you’ll have to find out for yourself.”
“And how do you propose I do that?”
“By continuing on your little scavenger hunt.”
I groan and toss my head back. “Honestly, I don’t know if I’ll survive through the entirety of it. I’m damn near close to coming without even touching myself. Anything more, and I just might fucking blow, honey.”
She smiles. “I like the way that name sounds coming from your mouth when you’re all worked up.”
“I promise you, this won’t be the last time you hear it. Now, tell me what I can do to you.”
Her hands come up, resting on my chest. She’s still standing right in front of me with nothing on her legs. I slowly start to back her up, guiding her to the living room. I want to see how comfortable she is in her own skin.
I drop down onto the sofa once I’m close enough, my hands slipping from her body. When she goes to climb on top of me, I lift a hand to stop her. “Sit down on the coffee table.”
She glances back at the sturdy object. It’s about two or three feet away from the couch. She listens, hesitantly sitting down. My eyes drop to her legs. “Spread them and touch yourself.”
She licks her lips. “You want me to play with myself in front of you?”
I swallow down a hard gulp, my stomach muscles clenching from her saying something so goddamn promiscuous. “Yes, Emory. Show me how much you love yourself.”
19
EMORY
Fire sears my skin, trailing all over my body like a calloused finger. My eyes drop to Dawson’s hands. I can tell, just from a glance, that his palms are nothing but smooth. Like silk.
