Hotblooded (13 page)

“Nothing.” She said it firmly but her eyes would not meet his as she answered. She was staring at the clock on the front of her desk instead.

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” He prayed that she would deny it.

“No.”

He felt the relief spread through him swiftly.

“You make me crazy.”

He blinked. He made her crazy? What did that mean? He felt a grin begin to stretch his lips. Crazy could be a positive thing. In many ways, Brooke drove him crazy as well.

“Good crazy or bad crazy?” he asked.

She frowned at him. “Crazy as in I’d like to shake all of that cockiness and charm right out of you. Crazy as in you make me want to scream. Crazy as in I hold my breath every morning waiting to see you.”

He felt his grin widen. He liked the idea that Brooke was anxious to see him each morning. He liked the idea that she woke up thinking about him. Maybe she even dreamed about him at night once in awhile…

She obviously noticed his smug smile because she rushed to amend the statement. “I hold my breath waiting to see what trouble you’ve caused me before the day has even started.”

Well, maybe it wasn’t that she was dreaming about him but he was still getting to her. He rounded the corner of her desk and didn’t stop until he was close enough to make her visibly squirm. He could have counted the number of eyelashes that framed her now-very-wide eyes. “I’m not trying to cause you trouble. I want to help you, but I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Nothing is going on.” She took a deep breath. “You just frustrate me when you don’t respect my space.”

“Oh, your space.” He moved closer and put a hand on the chair back next to hers. She didn’t move away but he could tell she was tense. “You think that I’m stepping over some boundaries, is that it? You’ve got these walls built up pretty high and wide, don’t you?”

“I mean with my patients—”

“I have to tell you.” He moved closer yet, able now to catch the faint scent of her. “Being close to people isn’t such a bad thing. It just takes some getting used to.” He lifted a hand and touched the tip of her hair that lay against her left shoulder.

Her intake of breath was quick and sharp and he was pleased that he was having an effect. Maybe he was just irritating her or maybe he was breaking some dumb rule of etiquette she had in mind, but at least it was a reaction.

“Now are you uncomfortable or crazy?” he asked softly.

Her hair was even softer than cashmere. Jack rubbed the very end between his thumb and forefinger. He watched her swallow hard twice, without blinking.

“Um…” she said hoarsely.

He was close enough that he could easily bend and kiss her. He shouldn’t. He knew that. He’d feel guilty about it later if he did. But it seemed the only time she was real, the only time she let go, the only time she truly gave into emotions was when it was with him. Physically, for sure. She let herself go in their kisses. Yes, they were hot and erotic, but he could feel that she was all there somehow. And she let go emotionally with him. When she was mad or frustrated she let him know. No one else got glares or sarcastic remarks or even hints of temper. With everyone else she was cool and poised all the time.

He loved that he could get her to react when no one else did.

And he intended to do more of it. It wasn’t healthy to keep all that emotion inside. Whatever it took, he’d get Brooke thawed out.

He moved his hand from the strand of her hair to the top button on her blah navy-blue blouse. Watching her face, he unbuttoned it with one hand. “Or both uncomfortable and crazy?” he asked as the top of her shirt came apart.

She pulled in a long, deep breath. “What are you doing?”

“I’m getting to you.” He leaned in next to her ear. “Aren’t I?” He unbuttoned the second button.

She closed her eyes then and shook her head and he pulled back to look at her. Without opening her eyes she said, “I’m unhappy.”

Jack frowned. That wasn’t the response he’d been hoping to get, that was certain. He made her unhappy? Him touching her made her unhappy? Or maybe his presence in general? He couldn’t quite accept that one, not with her breath still coming more rapidly than it should and her inability to look him in the eye as she formed coherent thoughts.

“You’re unhappy because…?”

“You’re making things…complicated.”

He knew the feeling. Things had certainly been complicated in his life since Brooke Donovan showed up in it. But things here with the clinic didn’t need to be complicated. She just needed to show everyone the warm, funny, passionate side he’d seen.

“Complicated can be good.” It at least meant something mattered.

“Jack, I’m aware that—”

“Come on, Brooke, cut the formality.” He was tired of watching her swallow her first reactions. “Tell me off if you want to. Kiss me if you want to. Slap me, rip my shirt off, tell me to go to hell—whatever you’re feeling, just do it. Stop making everything so proper and unemotional.”

She took a deep breath and looked directly into his eyes. She exhaled all at once.

“Fine. I hate how you came barging in here and took everything over. I hate that you can make everyone love you and trust you without even trying. I hate that you are so comfortable here after only a few days while I feel like an outsider in my own hometown.”

She said it all in one breath and then stood, rapidly inhaling and exhaling, watching him, waiting for his reaction.

Jack was fascinated with everything from the raised volume of her voice to the flush in her cheeks. “That’s more like it. How do you feel now?”

“Better.” She sounded as if she resented the fact.

“You should always show your true emotions. You shouldn’t close yourself up. People can tell when you’re holding back and it’s hard for them to trust that. You don’t have to have all the answers or be happy all the time. Just be real.”

“You want real?” she asked. “You want me to just do what I want, whatever I’m feeling, no worries about consequences?”

“I think you should do what makes you happy.”

She licked her lips and nodded, her eyes on his. “Okay. You asked for it.” She shrugged out of her jacket and let it drop to the floor behind her. Then she leaned in, wrapped her arms around his neck and put her lips against his. “Why is it whenever you’re within five feet of me I want to kiss you?”

Ah, consequences.

“Five feet? Hell, girl, I can’t be in the same town without wanting to kiss you.” Then he sealed his mouth over hers.

The moment she stroked her tongue along his, he put both hands under her butt and lifted her, turned, kicked her chair out of the way and set her on the edge of her desk. His fingers went back to the buttons on the front of her shirt and quickly freed them all, spreading the blouse open before pulling back to look at her.

“Every time I see your hands on someone else, I remember the way they felt on me that first day,” she said breathlessly. “Every time you take a drink from your coffee cup I think about how your mouth felt on my nipple. Every time you…”

“Jesus, Brooke.” Jack pulled in a sharp breath as need sliced through him. He was wound so tight that another word or two from her and he’d be a goner. “You have to stop that.”

She leaned back, the white satin of her bra hugging the curves that he remembered too well.

“You’re the one that wants me to make it real, wants me to say what I really feel.” She gave him a naughty smile. “This was your idea, remember?”

“I remember. And I love that this is what you really want deep down.”

She smiled and it was the first time he had seen a truly confident smile from her. She knew just what she was doing to him and she knew that she was good at it. Very good at it.

“I want something deep all right.”

The woman was going to kill him just by talking.

“The door is locked,” she reminded him. “No patients for a while. You can help me with all this tension and emotion and need.”

He couldn’t fight this. He needed to have her need him.

Even if it was only sexually, the idea of giving Brooke something—like a nice hard orgasm right on top of her desk—was something he couldn’t resist. He leaned in and rubbed his jaw against hers. “You need me, Brooke? There’s finally something you’re going to let me give you?”

“What do you think?” She turned her head and kissed him, full and wet and wanton.

But he had to hear it. “Tell me,” he said raggedly, pulling his lips from hers. “Tell me what you want.”

She had a wicked gleam in her eye as she turned on the desk and lay back. “Make this desk my favorite piece of furniture ever.”

Her blouse was spread out around her, her nipples pressing against the soft satin of her bra, her skirt hiked up on her thighs. He leaned in over her. “Tell me how. Exactly.”

“I want your mouth on my nipple, your hand up my skirt, your finger in my—”

He kissed her before she could finish the thought. He didn’t actually need her instruction beyond that point—thank you very much. She was clinging to him when he lifted his head. He looked down the length of her body, on display for him on her desk. It was the most gorgeous sight he’d ever seen.

He reached to push her lamp and pencil holder out of the way. As he slid a coffee mug to the side as well, he noticed it was still half full of room-temperature cappuccino. His second favorite flavor in the clinic—next to Brooke’s skin. The idea to combine them seemed natural.

He reached and dipped his index finger into the liquid. With his wet finger he traced a trail from the valley between her breasts to the waistband of her skirt, then bent his head and followed the path with his tongue. “God, I love cappuccino,” he said huskily.

She chuckled softly, her hand in his hair holding him close. “If you’d told me we were going to use it like this I would have been all for it from the beginning.”

“And this is just the start. This is going to be your favorite beverage in the world when we’re done.”

He hooked his index finger in the waistband of her skirt and tugged it down to reveal her belly button. Which had a dark red gem in it. He stared, then lifted his eyes to hers. “A pierced belly button?”

“Surprised?”

He thought about that. Was he surprised that Brooke Donovan, the woman who could go from ice cap to inferno in under a minute, had a sexy secret? Not in the least. “It fits.” He dipped his finger in the cappuccino again and then let it drip from his finger to her belly button, wetting the stone before bending and sucking it clean.

Her back arched and she moaned, further fueling his desire. He wanted to hear a lot more of that.

“Unhook for me,” he said.

She reached to free the hooks on her bra. The satin cups fell away revealing the breasts he’d been thinking about for days. They were firm, the tips tight, begging for his touch.

Without taking his eyes from her, he dipped his finger again, then ran the pad of his finger around her right nipple. As she arched closer, his eyes went to her face, wanting to see her eyes as he wet the nipple itself. Desire colored her cheeks, her eyes slid closed and his name escaped her lips on a breath.

Making himself go slow, he lowered his head and took the nipple in his mouth. At first he teased with light flicks over the tip, but in response to her sounds he increased the pressure and finally sucked, pulling all the sweet coffee from her and finding the skin underneath was even sweeter.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, holding him closer. “More, Jack. I need more.”

She needed more. From him.

He was happy to oblige.

He kissed his way down her rib cage to her stomach, pausing to paint another stripe of cappuccino along the edge of the white satin panties just barely revealed when he pulled her skirt down. His tongue followed that edge as his hand slid over her skirt to her bare thigh, then between her thighs.

Her legs parted and she arched closer to his hand. “Jack.”

He loved the sound of his name from her. “You sure?”

She gave a half chuckle, half sob. “God, yes. Please.”

The skin on her inner thigh was as silky as her stomach and he paused to stroke his hand up and down a few times. She shifted restlessly and he could feel the heat emanating from only a few inches higher. Drawn to that heat he slid higher, until his middle finger contacted hot, wet silk.

A sharp breath hissed from between her gritted teeth and he smiled. “You really sure?”

“If you stop now,” she said tightly. “You haven’t even begun to see cold and bitchy from me.”

Desire for her, fueled by how much she obviously wanted him too, tightened his gut and his erection swelled, but he actually chuckled softly. “Well, can’t have that. It would be bad for business.” Before she could reply, he slipped his middle finger under the edge of her panties and into the hotter, wetter silk underneath.

She gasped and he couldn’t have stopped for all the money, fame and gratitude in the world. He slid his finger out, then in deep again, before adding a second. His thumb found her clit and he circled, then pressed. Her neck arched and her hands gripped the edge of the desk. Her breasts bounced softly as she met his fingers’ thrusts and her lips were open with the deep ragged breaths she took.

There was no ice queen here, no question about what she was feeling in this moment.

His other hand took her nipple between his thumb and finger, plucking and rolling. “Tell me what you need, Brooke.”
Say it’s me, say that I’m what you need.
The thoughts were clearly lust inspired, but they were loud and impossible to ignore. He wanted her to need him. Only him.

“More. Harder,” she gasped.

He gave it to her.

“Need looks good on you,” he told her huskily.

“Not as good as satisfaction looks,” she managed.

He increased the speed of his thrusts. He wanted to rip open his fly and really satisfy her, but this was good. Really good. He was doing something just for her, in the most personal, intimate way.

Unable not to, he bent and kissed her and she came as his tongue met hers.

Several seconds later, far too short a time, he slipped his fingers from her. Unable to help himself, he sucked the taste of her from his fingers, watching her the entire time. Her eyes widened and she squeezed her thighs together at the sight.