Page 31 of Sweet Heart

When her teeth sink into my skin—harder than feels pleasurable—I buck up against her and pull her even closer. The pain is sharp, and she presses down even harder. Would Cat even recognize you like this? I throw my head back to give the woman better access, gritting my teeth. Slowly, she presses all my thoughts into the background until all I can think about is the shape of her teeth. I hiss.

She breaks away from me, that smile still curving her lips. Something primal simmers between us, and I instinctively bare my neck to her even further. She smirks and trails her hand up to the column of my throat, wrapping her fingers around it.

“You like it rough,” she murmurs, pressing her thigh between mine.

I hum. Right now, I will be whatever she wants me to be, as long as she keeps me here. Away from my thoughts.

“You are wet for me,” she states, her teeth nipping at my ear. “Can’t let that go to waste.”

She grabs my wrist again, an iron grip this time, and leads me outside. Away from the crowd, away from the bodies passing us by in that narrow hallway, away from the noise. The small alleyway between the club and the office building next to it isn’t well lit, but she walks down a bit farther regardless. I know I shouldn’t follow her, that I am just acting out because my ego got dented, but my feet keep moving.

She presses me up against the wall again in one smooth motion, the texture of the brick biting into my skin. Her teeth find another spot to sink into, and I welcome the heat spreading underneath them. My legs open for her when she slides her hand between my thighs, and I let her in. Her fingers thrust, rough and precise, and I am panting against her shoulder within seconds.

Instead of being pressed away, the thoughts now flood in. Those dark umber eyes, the curve of her lips when she grins so cockily, how warm her laughter sounds. So warm that it fills my entire body.

The woman growls against my skin, pulling my attention back to her, and presses her thumb against my clit. I come hard, shuddering on her fingers, my voice hoarse as I cry out.

“Cat—”

She raises an eyebrow when she finally steps away from me, but she doesn’t ask. Instead, she grins again, satisfied, and rests her hand against my lower back as we exit the alley. She smiles almost tentatively before she lets go and walks the other way. We will never see each other again. Perfect.

Something pulls me from my sleep, and for a moment I am disoriented. The sheets are tangled around my legs, and my back sticks to the mattress. My body feels wrung out and heavy. I groan and throw my arm over my face to block out the rays of sunlight streaming through my window. Last night was crazy. It probably wasn’t the healthiest coping mechanism, but at least it turned my brain off for a few moments.

My fingers trail to my neck, where I can feel the heated skin. There is no doubt that there are bruises. Perfect. Let them see someone chose you. Even if it was just this once. I scoff at myself and roll my eyes at the thought as I hear a low hum vibrating from beside my bed.

I hold my breath and clench my jaw while I push myself upright, suddenly fully awake. I fumble to find my phone as my heart races. It’s wedged between the bed and my bedside table, dangling at a dangerous angle. I wrap my fingers around it, and the screen lights up when I pull it toward me. 1 message. Cat.

All the feelings come rushing back. The anger, the betrayal, the shame—she treated me as if I were a guilty pleasure to be disposed of before anyone found out.

My mouth runs dry as my thumb hovers over the notification. For a beat, it is suspended in the air, but then I bring it down rapidly and swipe left to remove her text without even reading it. My whole body seems to recoil at that action, my throat tightening, my shoulders cramping, and my stomach twisting. But I don’t regret it. I can’t let her pull me back into her orbit when there is nowhere there for me to land. But, fuck, does it hurt.

I glare at my phone, roll my shoulders back, and press my finger against the button until the screen turns off. Then I turn it face down on my nightstand, sling my legs over the edge of the bed, and get myself to the bathroom for a shower. Enough wallowing over a woman I barely even know. I am better than that. Or at least I used to be, until I let myself get drawn in by that emotionally detached ice queen.

The thought tastes bitter the moment it forms, partly because it is unfair to Cat, who owes me nothing, and partly because I don’t actually know her. Not really. If anything, I got to see those sharp edges soften for a moment, which is probably more than most people get to see. But still, we shared a few glasses of wine and a meal, nothing more than that. You totally overreacted. Even if that spark was mutual, it doesn’t put Cat under any obligation. Attraction doesn’t equal a promise or give me any reason to unravel the way that I did.

I stare at my phone again and frown. My fingers twitch to pick it up and text her back, but I pause. Maybe I did overreact, but the fact that my feelings came so fast and so strong also tells me that I lost track of who I am. That hasn’t happened to me in a long time. I’ve been pursuing a woman who tried to keep a professional distance from me from the start. I probed her, prodded her, and challenged her until she caved. How is that fair to her? How is that fair to me? Even though she texted me first, I put that seed in her mind.

No. Deleting that message might just have been the kindest thing I could’ve done for both of us. Connections should not come with this kind of stress. I let a stranger fuck me in a back alley because a woman I barely know didn’t respond the way I expected her to. Wow. That is embarrassingly childish.

I shake my head and smile a little bit at my own silliness. It’s not the end of the world. Just a little bruise on my ego. Like the ones on your neck. I laugh at myself and shake my head again as I step out of my sleep shirt and into the shower. Let’s start this day by washing off what lies behind.

By the time I step out of the shower, the fog in my brain has lifted. The dull ache of the rejection has sharpened into a clarity with clean edges that I can now accept for what it is. It wasn’t Catherine’s response to my presence that hurt, but the old wounds she accidentally pressed on. She was only trying to protect herself, her reputation and career, and I have to respect that. And myself.

I was doing just fine before her, more than fine, actually. My focus was on my health and writing. On growing and shaping myself into the woman I want to become. I only got distracted for a moment, but that’s okay. I am allowed to mess up, as long as I keep returning to myself.

When I slip into my sneakers, I am smiling again. I refuse to let myself be defined by things that have happened in the past. My fingers twitch when I reach for my phone, and something low in my stomach swoops. No, you’re not there yet. I leave it on the nightstand, turn on my heel, take a deep breath, and smile again.

Today will be a beautiful day. I have already decided that.

Chapter 12

Cat

“There is a difference between not knowing something and not using your brain,” I snap at the shaking resident in front of me. “Your notes are sloppy. They lack important information about treatment, and you write in vague terms.”

Her lip trembles and she swallows hard, but her fists are clenched and her chin is lifted. Maybe I should go easier on her, but what good would that do her? This is a hospital. People’s lives depend on her. Her performance is below average, and I don’t even tolerate average.

“You will join Marcella for your next three shifts, and you will process every single note with her. You will only turn them in with her approval. Is that clear?”