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“Whatever you say,” he replies smoothly. “I just can’t fall in love with you, right?” I chuckle as I twist the doorknob to leave. “Oh, Stefan. I think you already are.”
“Trust me, Dr. Thorne, if I had you up against a wall, you’d be the meal.”
“I’ll be better company than a dildo. I promise.” She shakes her head again and swipes her kit off the ground. “Doubtful,” is her reply as she walks away. I can’t help but appreciate the way her cargo pants hug the round globes of her ass. The things I’d do to that ass. “Bet I can make you come harder too.” She laughs, a girlish laugh. Not her usual throaty husk. “I’d like to see you try.” Challenge accepted.
“Good. Because I want to make myself abundantly clear.” We’re so close. I can feel the entire length of his body covering mine. He teases me with the lightest brush of his lips against my ear as he drops his voice and holds me captive. “You are not the pawn, Mira. You are the prize.”
Step one: talk to her. Step two: woo her. Step three: win her.
“Challenge accepted. But I’m not going to fuck you until you’re begging for it.”
“The next person to make that woman cry will wish they hadn’t.” I push my chair back calmly and turn to Nana. “Thank you for the beautiful meal. I look forward to meeting you again.”
“Just before she died, she told me my biological father used to be the bartender in Ruby Creek.”
Is it Hank?!?!
Stefan’s eyes are green. Vibrant green. Like emeralds, and bright spring grass, and like… Hank’s.
I don’t want to tame her; I just want a front-row seat to watch her win the race.
“Absolutely nothing about the way I feel for you is a joke. And I’ll keep telling you that until you believe me.”
Nothing about this feels fake. Our bodies. Our minds. Our hearts. Absolutely everything about being with Mira feels like one of the most real things I’ve ever had in my life. And I won’t let her slip between my fingers now. I’m going to make her come on them instead. I pull away to nip at the lobe of her ear, and she whimpers in protest. “Do you remember what I said I was going to do to you if I had you up against a wall, Dr. Thorne?” “What?” Her voice is pure lust, almost slurred. “I told you that you’d be the meal.”
“I don’t really care what you call me while I do it, sweetheart. So long as you spread those legs and let me worship between them.”
“You have beautiful hands. Almost as beautiful as your mind and heart. Sometimes I find myself staring at them while you work, so elegant and strong all at once. Hands that heal. Hands that save lives.” His voice drops. “Hands that belong in mine.”
“You are mine.” My hands slip on the desk, and my legs shake. “And I am yours.” And as I fall apart beneath his firm body, feeling him move inside of me, I know I’m exactly where I need to be. There’s no uncertainty now.
