The Best Medicine (20 page)

Lauren laughed softly, remembering the last time they’d danced together at the club. It had been hot—full of sweat and sensuality. But this . . . this was something different entirely. It was more real. The man who guided her across the dance floor effortlessly was the man who’d gradually emerged over the past two months. And dancing with
that
Scott felt different. She loved that he’d finally let her in a little—let her see the man behind the rigid, cocky curtain.

“Yeah,” she finally said. “I’ve actually never done anything like this before.”

“Well, I’m glad I got to be here for it.”

And so was she.

*   *   *

Lauren and Scott made it back to his apartment a little after midnight. The moment the elevator doors had closed, locking them away from the outside world, Scott couldn’t keep his hands off her. He’d spent the majority of the benefit waiting to move his lips across her neck, down her collarbone, and he’d be damned if he’d have to wait a second longer.

He pulled off his tuxedo jacket, throwing it somewhere before brushing Lo’s soft curls to the side so he could plant a trail of kisses along her jawline. She inhaled a sharp breath as Scott stroked the side of her throat with his thumb and gripped the back of her neck so he could pull her closer. “You like that?” He already knew the answer, but there was something about hearing Lauren’s breathy “yes” that he couldn’t get enough of.

“I love
everything
you do.”

Well, fuck if that didn’t turn him on even more.
“You haven’t even begun to see everything I can do.” He guided her toward his bedroom, sucking on her neck and letting his hands roam over her body the entire way. “This slit pisses me off,” Scott said against her neck as his hands rubbed the exposed skin on her thigh.

“Why?” Lauren panted.

“Because ripping clothes off of your body is a fantasy of mine. But on this dress, the job’s already been done.”

“I’ll choose more carefully next time.”

“Good idea.” Once in his room, Scott left Lo standing while he reclined back on the bed, using his elbows to prop himself up, raising an eyebrow to see if she was as good at reading him as she seemed to be.

He watched a slow, sexy smile overtake her lips. As she reached behind her back and slowly dragged the zipper down, she didn’t try to stop the satin from dropping to the floor. With Lo standing before him in a dark purple, strapless bra with black lace overlaid on the cups with a matching thong, he somehow got harder. And the stilettos she still wore made every muscle in her legs flex in the sexiest ways.

She’s trying to kill me.
As with every time Scott was
with Lo, he felt as though his cock had never been so hard. He felt the precum bead at his tip and soak into his boxers.

Lauren’s hands stayed at her back as she unhooked her bra. But this time, she didn’t let it drop. Instead, she crossed her arms over her breasts as her eyes remained locked on his. Her seductive smirk made his whole body tingle with anticipation. Then she dropped her hands, letting her bra join her dress at her feet.

He watched as her fingers ghosted down her flawless skin until her thumbs hooked into her thong. She lifted her eyebrows at him.

“Do it, baby.”

She immediately pulled the material down her thighs until gravity took it the rest of the way.

“The heels stay on,” he warned.

“I had no intention of taking them off.” She moved toward him, bending over him when she reached the bed. “You have too many clothes on.”

“You’d better do something about that then.”

He watched her tongue dart out and wet her bottom lip as she pulled off his shoes and socks. Then her hands trailed up his legs, over the inside of his thighs, narrowly and purposefully missing his cock. She undid his belt, popped the button on his pants, and unzipped them before freeing his body of them. She then went to work on his shirt, starting with the buttons at the bottom, smoothing her hands up his torso as she worked.

After she’d gotten all of the buttons undone, he sat up to remove his cuff links so she could push the shirt off his shoulders. Lauren gripped his undershirt and lifted it over his head. Only his boxers remained.

Lauren pushed him back onto the bed, rested her weight on one hand beside him, and grazed the fingers of her other hand over his chest, down his muscled abdomen, before caressing the skin just above his waistband.

As much as Scott was enjoying the seductive temptress side of Lo, if he wasn’t inside of her soon, he was going to lose his fucking mind. “Take them off.”

Her eyes lifted to his, her fingers still fluttering across his skin. “Whatever you say, Doctor.” She straightened slightly so that her legs could support her weight as she grabbed the band of his boxers and pulled them down, allowing his cock to finally spring free. Her eyes immediately went to his hard length.

Scott let her ogle him for a moment before he pointed at his bedside table. “Get a condom out of that drawer and then get your sexy ass over here.”

*   *   *

Lo felt the smack of Scott’s palm on her ass as she leaned across the bed to retrieve the condom. Then she settled back over him, straddling his thighs. She ripped the condom open, tossing the wrapper to the floor before slowly dragging the latex down his length as it stretched to accommodate him. He let out a low growl in response. And as she remembered what it was like to sheath Scott’s cock with her own body, she felt her internal muscles clench.

Scott’s hands skated over Lauren’s breasts, feeling their fullness until one hand settled on her nipple and his fingers gave it a sharp pinch. His other hand landed solidly around his erection as he pumped himself slowly. Lo let out a soft moan as she watched him grip himself
tightly, pull on his cock, and drag his palm over his tip in quick circles.

Before long, her own hand slid down her stomach to massage her clit while she ground against the base of Scott’s dick. After a few minutes, Lauren leaned down, her chest almost flush with Scott’s as she pressed her lips to his. Scott reached both hands around to Lauren’s back, his fingertips pressing roughly against her skin to massage her. She felt relaxed, comforted, and more fucking turned on than she’d ever remembered feeling. “This feels so good, Scott.”

Scott let out a soft chuckle against her throat before speaking. “I’ve been aching to be inside you since I saw you walk into that ballroom.” Scott slid his hand between them, pushing Lo’s out of the way so he could be the one to stroke her. “And by how fucking wet you are, I bet you can’t wait much longer either.”

Lauren let out a heavy breath at Scott’s expert touch. “That’s a bet you’d win.” When she felt the tip of Scott’s cock graze her entrance, she wiggled to help him inside her.

Scott seemed to understand her silent plea, and in one movement, he grabbed the base of his cock to direct himself right where Lo wanted him. When she felt his tip push inside her ever so slightly, she couldn’t stop herself from coming down hard on top of him. She took all of Scott at once, and the fullness she felt as his cock rubbed her walls in all the right ways let her know she wouldn’t last long. At least not if she kept grinding on top of him like she was.

Scott’s hands guided her hips back and forth, causing
her orgasm to build rapidly as her clit brushed just above his cock. Then his hands moved to her ass, his fingertips digging into her flesh in the most delicious way.

“Faster, Lo,” he said, moving her so that she had no choice but to comply with his request. His hands moved up to fist in her hair, pulling on it just hard enough to tilt her head back so he could kiss the front of her throat.

She relished the feeling of being on top of him, riding him while his lips and tongue brushed over her skin like they were searching for a spot they hadn’t discovered yet. But Scott already knew every inch of her—knew every touch and movement that would make her come undone.

And she was dangerously close to it. She rocked against him, swiveled her hips in circles, and leaned up until only his tip remained inside her. Then she’d push onto him again, enjoying the feel of him filling her completely.

He plunged in and out of her, letting their rhythm guide his every thrust. Intentionally, she clenched herself tightly around him, feeling how hard he was inside her. She could feel her climax nearing whether she wanted it to or not.

Scott groaned as he sped up, the sound vibrating against Lo’s neck. “You with me?”

And she was. In every way. “Yeah,” she breathed. “I’m with you.”

Scott’s eyes found hers, his gaze settling on her face as she dangled on the verge of release. “Good,” he said as he pumped into her harder, faster until she felt she’d let go at any moment. “Come with me.” His breathing was heavy, and she could tell he was trying to hold off as long as possible. “Right now, Lo. I want to feel it.”

If his movements hadn’t already gotten her so close that there was no turning back, his words would have been her undoing. Waves of pleasure spread through her, and she knew he could feel them too. Then Scott jerked sharply into her a few more times, groaning as she felt his cock twitch with release.

She collapsed on top of him, not wanting to separate her body from his. But realizing she had to, she climbed off of him—holding the ring of the condom so it stayed on—and lay down beside him.

“God, that was so fucking good,” Scott said to her before placing a kiss on her forehead and getting up to remove the condom.

“It always is,” Lauren said so quietly that she wasn’t sure he heard her.

Addiction

The weeks following the benefit were much like the weeks leading up to it: class, work, Scott. Lauren had spent a little time with her friends, but still not as much as usual. They didn’t call her on it, giving Lauren the space to do her own thing. Though she had to admit that she missed them. So when Quinn called to see if Lauren wanted to get together and just putter around town the Sunday after Thanksgiving, she jumped at the chance.

She had just finished pulling her hair into a ponytail and applying a little makeup when her phone rang.

“Hey, I was just about to leave to meet you. What’s up?”

“Don’t kill me, but I need to cancel,” Quinn said, sounding frazzled. “My boss just called and I need to cover some stupid community festival. My job sucks. I swear, as soon as I get home I’m sending my résumé out to every newspaper and magazine I can find. I’m so sorry, Laur.”

Lauren laughed as she plopped down on her bed. “No problem. Maybe one night this week we can all get together.”

“Yes, totally. I’m in. Let’s talk to the girls and see if we can set something up.”

“Okay, sounds good.”

“All righty. Thanks, hooker. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Later, tramp.” Lauren hung up but kept looking down at her phone. She was all dressed with nowhere to go. Scrolling through her contacts, she decided to stop pretending she wanted to hang out with anyone else. She found the number she was looking for and pushed Call.

“Dr. Scott’s Sex Hotline.”

“Aww, you got a second job?” Lauren asked with a laugh.

“It’s more of a hobby. What’s up?”

“I’m bored and am officially appointing
you
in charge of rectifying that.”

“Oh really? I bet I could come up with a few things. I’m actually on my way to my brother’s for dinner if you want to come.”

“I don’t want to intrude,” Lauren drew out.

“Yes, you do. It’s not a big deal. Just a meal and some football watching. I’ll pick you up in twenty minutes.”

*   *   *

As Lauren approached the door to Tim’s apartment building, she found herself getting surprisingly nervous. Though it was just a casual dinner and she had met Tim briefly before, Lauren was starting to realize that she really didn’t know much about him at all. Scott had only mentioned him a handful of times in passing.

“Is this weird? That I’m here, I mean?” She could hear the panic in her voice.

Scott stared at her for a moment, the lines in his
forehead revealing his confusion. “No, why would it be weird? You’re just eating dinner with us.”

“I don’t know . . . I just . . . This all feels very domestic.”

Scott slid his hand around the back of Lauren’s neck, letting his fingers tangle in her hair a moment before using his other hand to tilt her chin up to him so their eyes locked. “It’s dinner. It’s supposed to be. Wait ’til I tell Tim you said he’s domestic.” Scott chuckled as he knocked on the door.

“Come on in,” a deep voice called from inside.

Scott opened the door, gesturing for Lauren to go in first. From the front door, she could see the majority of the apartment. It was small and sparsely furnished, but neat. To their left was a living and dining room combination, which had only a cream sofa and small glass table with four chairs. Several open boxes were scattered around the floor. She could see Tim in the kitchen straight ahead, but he was busy chopping something on a cutting board.

“Smells great,” Scott said. “How can we help?”

“We?” Tim asked, clearly confused as he spun around and grabbed a dishtowel to dry his hands. His eyes seemed to light up at the sight of Lauren, and he took a few quick strides toward her with his hand extended. “Sorry. Scott didn’t tell me he was bringing someone.” He shook Lauren’s hand and gave her a welcoming smile.

Scott shrugged. “What’s one more? Let’s eat. I’m starving.”

“I apologize for my brother’s lack of common courtesy, Lauren,” Tim joked as he headed to the cabinet and set three glasses on the counter.

Lauren laughed, impressed that Tim remembered her
name. “It’s nice to actually get to talk to you this time. Scott’s told me a lot about you.” Lauren had meant for her comment to be standard: a polite greeting. The problem was, it wasn’t the least bit true.

“Oh, he has, has he?” Tim turned toward them again, casually leaning against the dark granite counter.

Lauren felt her stomach drop. “Um—”

“Let me guess,” Tim said as he slid a hand over the strawberry blond scruff on his face. “He told you how ruggedly handsome I am?” And that
was
the truth. Tim looked a little more rough around the edges than Scott, but she had no doubt that he attracted his fair share of women.

Lauren shifted her focus to Scott as Tim opened the fridge. “Guess the cocky gene runs in the family,” she said with a laugh, and the men joined in.

“Now what can I get you to drink?” Tim opened the fridge before waiting for her to reply. “I have iced tea, Coke, water. Sorry. I don’t keep alcohol in the house.”

Lauren’s brain stuttered at his words, trying to figure out if there was a deeper meaning behind them. But she recovered quickly. “Oh, iced tea’s great. Thanks.”

Tim poured the tea and handed her the glass. Then he handed Scott a glass of milk.

Lauren looked at him, disgusted. “Why are you drinking milk?”

Scott shrugged. “Old habits die hard, I guess. My mom used to make me drink it every night for dinner. I still do. Unless we’re at a restaurant. That would just be too embarrassing.”

“For
you
or the people you’re with?” Lauren teased.

Scott smiled. “I guess both.”

“That’s my baby brother for you.” Tim continued to chop up some vegetables. “Make yourselves at home. I’m just finishing up with the salad. Turkey and stuffing should be ready in a few minutes. Do you eat homemade cranberry sauce, Lauren? Or are you one of those weirdos who prefers the canned stuff?” Tim’s expression let her know he was only partially kidding.

“Either really. It all smells delicious,” Lauren replied as she wandered through the living room and plopped down on the couch with Scott, who grabbed the remote to turn on the TV to Sunday football. They relaxed on the couch, Lauren snuggling into Scott’s chest and Scott pulling her in close to him as they watched the Redskins game.

*   *   *

Twenty minutes later the three of them were seated around the table with their plates piled high. “It’s all amazing. Where’d you learn to cook like this, Tim?” Lauren asked after she swallowed a bite of mashed potatoes. “Actually, the better question is if
that
trait’s hereditary like the cockiness gene.” She looked to her left at Scott. “Does your talent extend beyond breakfast foods?”

Scott ignored Tim’s widened eyes and gave Lauren a seductive smirk and laughed. “Oh, I have many talents you’ve yet to enjoy.” He put a hand on Lauren’s thigh under the table. “But unfortunately for you, cooking’s not one of them.”

Tim shot Scott a look of feigned disgust. “Could you at least wait until you leave before you start seducing my guest?”

Scott threw a napkin across the table at Tim.

“My mom taught me to cook,” Tim said, finally answering Lauren’s question. “I used to help her in the kitchen
when this one was still running around in diapers.” He gestured across the table at Scott, who had just started buttering his corn bread. “But I also went to culinary school and work as a chef.” Tim picked up his water and took a sip. “I’m starting to think Scott didn’t tell you as much about me as you insinuated,” he added with a wink.

Lauren felt herself blush and quickly changed the subject. “I can’t believe you made an entire second turkey for just the two of you. I figured you would still have leftovers from Thanksgiving,” Lauren said.

Tim looked across the table at Scott questioningly and then back at Lauren. “Scott, didn’t you tell her?”

“Tell me what?” Lauren asked slowly, and Scott reached his arm around her shoulder to rub the side of her biceps with soft strokes.

“This
is
Tim’s Thanksgiving,” Scott said simply.

Lauren shook her head, confused. “I don’t get it. What about your mom?” she asked Tim.

Again Scott spoke for Tim, who didn’t seem to know how to respond. “She eats with me on Thanksgiving. This is just like a brother thing, I guess. It’s a tradition we do with just the two of us each year. Tim cooks a feast, and I eat it.”

Scott tried to laugh the tension away, but Lauren wasn’t put more at ease. She wanted to ask why their mom wasn’t there, why they had Thanksgiving dinner on Sunday with just the two of them—or in this case three. But thankfully her brain caught up to her mouth for once and kept it from opening.

Tim shifted uncomfortably in his chair and cleared his throat. “So who’s winning the Skins game?”

Lauren could sense Scott’s relief at the subject change.
“They are. About time too. I don’t want to be a bandwagon fan, but they’ve played like shit most of the season. Makes it hard to watch.”

“Yeah, well, you always liked rooting for the underdog anyway,” Tim said.

Once the residual awkwardness from Lauren’s question had diminished, they spent the rest of dinner discussing more benign topics, like Lauren’s upcoming internship and her current job in Scott’s office. She also learned about Tim’s plans to move. He’d recently landed a job as an executive chef at a new restaurant in D.C. He’d gotten a new apartment about thirty minutes from his current place so he would be in between his job and Scott’s house. “Gotta keep an eye on my little brother,” he joked.

When Scott discovered that there was nothing for dessert, he shouted something about Thanksgiving without dessert being unacceptable and stormed off to the store. Lauren stayed behind to help Tim clear the table and wash the dishes. “It’s the least I can do,” she said. “I mean, I pretty much crashed your Thanksgiving,” she joked. But she couldn’t help but feel that there was some truth to it.

“Are you kidding? Scott’s never brought anyone over. Especially to Thanksgiving. He usually keeps his personal life and his . . . personal life separate.” Tim shook his head. “Sorry. That doesn’t really make any sense.”

Lauren stopped drying the plate she had in her hand when she understood the implication of what Tim had said. Everything in Scott’s life was compartmentalized. He kept work separate from his personal life, and he kept the women he slept with separate from the rest of his life too. Although, he hadn’t this time. Not with her.

“It’s great to finally see Scott
with
someone. You know? He’s been alone for so long. I actually never thought he’d find—”

“Oh,” Lauren stopped Tim midsentence, “we’re not together. Scott and I are just . . .” Lauren let her voice trail off. For some reason, hearing herself say the words aloud had an effect on her she hadn’t expected. They felt wrong.

“I’m sorry. I just thought . . .” Tim left his sentence unfinished as well, and he avoided Lauren’s eyes by putting some dishes in the cabinet. “For Scott to bring someone here . . . I just think you should know how huge that is for him.”

Lauren wasn’t sure why, but she felt close to Tim already. She leaned against the corner of the counter, preparing herself to hear what Tim was telling her. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“I’m not sure Scott told you my history. For him to bring you here, I’d think he would have.”

Lauren let her silence answer Tim’s question.

Tim exhaled. “I’ve been clean for seven years.”

Lauren didn’t know how to respond, so she remained silent, certain that Tim would explain.

“Today is the anniversary of my first day sober. I haven’t spoken to my mom since I was twenty-two. Or more accurately,
she
hasn’t spoken to
me
. And I can’t say I blame her. When you steal your mother’s wedding ring and pawn it to pay for drugs, it puts a little bit of a strain on the relationship. And that was the last straw really. I’d been fucking up for a lot of years before that.”

Instantly, things became clear: why Scott hadn’t told her much of anything about his brother, why Tim’s
relationship with his mom seemed so strained, the charity that Scott and his father started. All the pieces began to fit together, and Lauren was finally able to see the puzzle for what it was: complicated. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I deserve whatever I get.” Lauren guessed Tim was trying to portray a level of comfort about the situation that he probably didn’t feel. “They were my decisions. I’ve been in and out of rehab five times since the age of sixteen. They should have reserved a parking spot for me there.” He spit out a humorless laugh before continuing. “I made dumb decision after dumb decision. I lost every decent friend I ever had and most of my family. Scott was the one person who always stuck by me unconditionally.”

Lauren could tell that there was more Tim wanted to say, but just as he opened his mouth to continue, a booming voice came from the hallway. “Pumpkin pie,” Scott announced. “No Thanksgiving’s complete without it.” Scott walked into the kitchen, grabbed a few forks, and returned to the table, cracking open the pie tin and sinking a fork into their dessert.

“What are you, a caveman? I have plates,” Tim offered, though he contradicted his own words as he sat beside his brother and picked up a fork.

“You already cleaned up. Why do more dishes?”

Tim shrugged and dug in, as if that explanation made all the sense in the world.

Lauren watched the brothers for a moment, observing the similar mannerisms, the easy conversation that flowed between them. She felt a sudden pang of jealousy, realizing that she’d never have a moment like that with her own brother again.

Finally, after Lauren wasn’t even sure how long, Scott’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “I’m not saving you any of this. So if you want some, you’d better get over here.”

With a roll of her eyes, Lauren moved to sit with them, grateful that, even if she couldn’t be with her
own
brother, Scott had cared enough about her to share his.

After they’d demolished the pie and talked for a bit longer, it was time for Scott and Lauren to head home.