The Drake Restrained Compete Collection: Part 1 - 4 (The Drake Series Book 7) (42 page)

"I know. I like seeing you shake because of what I did to you."

Finally, I turned her around and cleaned her using some tissues from my desk. After she was clean, I pushed her down on the couch and lay on top of her.

"This won't affect your surgical performance, will it?" she said, her voice playful, a cheeky grin on her lips.

I laughed out loud. "Probably. Might improve it."

"I thought men got all sleepy after an orgasm."

"Sometimes, but it depends on the time of day. Right now, I feel great. I was feeling very
deprived
, Ms. Bennet. Very unhappy so a few extra pleasure endorphins will only help." I closed my eyes and sighed, pressing my forehead against hers. "You have no idea how relieved I am. When I went up to your apartment, I made poor Mrs. Kropotkin so frantic I thought she was going to call the police. It took every neuron I ever made studying Russian to convince her I didn't have ill-intent. I was really worried about you."

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice soft. "Lara asked me to think about what was more important—my happiness or your career. I left the apartment because she told me you were coming over."

"You were planning on not seeing me ever again?" I asked, shaking my head at her sense of honor.

"I was afraid I'd hate myself if I did meet with you. I knew I wouldn't be able to resist you if I got within a foot of you. I was right."

I smiled. "I can't resist
you
. I don't want to. Kate, I can't leave this thing between us hanging. I have to
know
. I have to know how far I can go with you. If anything happens, it will be because someone else made the wrong choice, not either of us. It will be because you're important enough to me to take that risk." I kissed her and stroked her cheek. "Your father was glad to see me and even he encouraged me to go to your apartment and not give up."

She smiled. "He said he thought we were really intense with each other and well-matched."

I nodded in agreement. "We are." I kissed her once more, unable to get enough of her soft lips.

"Maybe I should leave you alone for a while before your next surgery."

I sighed. "Probably. I don't want you out of my sight though."

"I'll go back to my father's for the rest of the afternoon. I'll make an excuse to go back to my apartment for the night. Then, we can meet at the apartment on 8th Avenue after your practice."

"Maybe I'll cancel tonight."

"
Don't
because of me,” she said, her tone insistent. “Your music is important to you."

I stroked her cheek with the backs of my fingers. "I don't want you out of arm's reach, Kate."

"I can't stay here all day," she said, smiling. "We can spend the evening together at your secret hideaway.
After
your practice."

"Tonight." I kissed her again, softly.

"I should go now," she said and stood up. "Let you focus before your next surgery."

"I wish I could cancel that, but I can't. Poor man's been waiting for a while to get the procedure."

She started dressing and I helped, handing over her jean skirt, zipping it up for her, buttoning the button. I helped her with her bra and fastened the front clasp. Then I pulled the sweater on and around her shoulders and buttoned it up.

"You like dressing me?" she said, eyeing me with a smile.

"Dressing and undressing a woman is a total turn on and pleasure." Finally, I smoothed her hair before leaning down to kiss her once more. "Where should I pick you up tonight?"

"I can meet you. It's probably better that I don't get a ride with you anywhere. I'll take a taxi."

"I don't like leaving you alone. I don't like loose ends, Kate."

"Just give me the address and I'll meet you there."

"Give me your iPhone."

She handed me her cell and I called up my address on GPS, getting directions from Ethan’s apartment.

"There," I said. "You can find your way there easily with that."

After she took the phone back, I walked her to the door of my office. "Are you sure I can't drive you back to your apartment?"

She shook her head. "No. I can take a taxi. I don't want to be seen in your car just in case we run into anyone. We already risked a lot coming here."

I exhaled in frustration. " Okay, but I don't like leaving you alone now. You can always call me and I can pick you up if you change your mind. Text me and let me know you're on your way, okay? Otherwise, I'll worry."

"I will."

I kissed her once more before she left. Then I watched her from my office door as she walked down the long hallway to the exit.

I turned back to my desk, and the stack of patient files on the surface, with a smile.

CHAPTER TWO

My next case was complex and I needed every ounce of focus to perform. My afternoon delight with Kate hadn’t stunted my skill so the operation went off without a hitch and I was able to tell the husband that his wife’s tremor was vastly reduced and might even disappear completely in time.

 After I finished dictating notes on the surgery, I went to my apartment, had a quick shower and changed clothes. I listened to my messages and checked my email but there was nothing of much interest, except for an invitation to play a game of racquetball the following week with another surgeon.

Then, I drove over meet the guys for practice at O’Riley’s. I should have cancelled the practice because all I could think of was seeing Kate at 8
^th
Avenue, but I forced myself to play and sing. Even Ken noticed my distraction.

“What’s up with you tonight?” he said, frowning at me when we were putting our instruments away for the night.

“Have a date,” I said and smiled. “Sorry.”

Ken grinned. “Hey, say no more. Is it that new girl?”

“The very one.”

Ken raised his eyebrows knowingly. “Bring her to Mom’s for dinner on Sunday. Seriously. Mom would love to meet her.”

I shook my head. “Maybe.”

Ken laughed. “You really do like her if you almost agree to bring her.”

“I do,” I said and pulled on my coat, eager to leave. “Now, stop with the questions and let me get to her, okay?”

Ken slapped me on the back and nodded. “Understood. Have a good one.”

“More than one, I hope.” I ducked away from his playful punch and left the pub for my car.

I drove to the apartment on 8
^th
Avenue and parked my car in a parking garage and walked down the street to the old building, seeing it for the first time in a couple of weeks. I tried to see it as Kate would -- a corner brownstone walk-up with ornate windows and wrought iron window boxes with faded ivy, the building very old. Browning ivy crept up the building's façade. My father bought it for me when I was at Columbia and I never sold it. It had too many good memories of my life in medical school and the times my father would come up to Manhattan to visit. He would sleep on the couch rather than in a hotel, despite how uncomfortable it was because he wanted to wake up and make coffee, fry some bacon and eat brunch with me over the newspaper. Those are some of my very best memories of my father and there were far too few and far too late.

I needed those kind of memories when I was a child, not when I was already a grown man.

I climbed the stairs to the third floor and entered the cramped living room, filled with boxes from my father’s apartment that I had shipped here after he died. His old furniture competed with my college-edition sofa and coffee table. It bore no resemblance to the wealth my father, or I, had accumulated. It wasn’t that I couldn’t afford to buy new furniture and have the apartment professionally renovated and decorated. It was the only thing I had left of my father.

The apartment was a one bedroom that was open-plan except for the bedroom off to the rear of the building. Bookshelves covered most of the walls, filled with thousands of books I had collected during my years in school. There were windows on three walls, providing ample light during the day. The floors were hardwood planks with faded Persian carpets covering the most worn parts of the surface. I was thinking of getting the floors refinished but had let it slide, not wanting to make any decisions about the place. The living room led to a combined kitchen and dining room.

I went to the windows and opened one to let in some fresh air. The windows were huge and looked out over the streets on either side. In the living room stood my collection of six old guitars on their stands. I’d covered the walls without bookshelves in posters of old bands – the Beatles, Led Zeppelin, Deep Purple, The Who. So much of my life was shaped by my father and it showed in the contents of my apartment.

8
^th
Avenue was my refuge from everything, and I went there to practice and when I needed an evening alone with my music and memories. Bringing Kate there was probably a mistake, but I was already so in over my head, one more transgression of my rules would make no real difference.

Before she arrived, I spent some time tidying up. Since I hadn’t used it for anything other than a practice space for some time, it was dusty and a bit messy. While I was cleaning up, I came across the sheet music Ethan had given to my father years earlier, with a photograph of them attached. Wearing fatigues and dog tags around their necks from their time in ‘Nam, they stood side by side smiling at the camera, their arms around each other's shoulders.

Kate would probably really enjoy seeing it, so I left it on top of the desk. I wouldn’t show it to her unless she seemed interested, but it was there to be found if she was curious.

I’d only been there for less than half an hour when my cell chimed and I checked my messages.

I'm on my way. Be there in 2. 

I texted back immediately.

I am so ready for you, Ms. Bennet…

I went to the window overlooking the street and watched for her, excitement in my gut, a surge of adrenaline going through me when I saw her taxi drive up and she got out and looked up at the building. I’d left the door open so I went to the landing to wait for her, listening as she walked up the steps. The old wooden staircase creaked as she climbed up to me.

When our eyes met, I couldn’t help but smile. "There you
are
," I said and went to her, pulling her into my arms. She laid her head on my shoulder and hugged me back warmly. I tilted her face up and kissed her, a rush of blood to my dick when our tongues touched, my body ready for more.

"You may have to carry me up the rest of the way," she said, her voice shaking a bit from nerves. "I feel a bit weak-kneed."

"Ms. Bennet, are you nervous to be alone with me?" I smiled, pleased that she was excited even though she was still a bit shy.

"Yes," she said. "But the good kind of nervous."

"Good. I want you a little nervous." Then I bent down and picked her up, one arm under hers, the other under her legs.

"Oh, no,
don't
," she said when I started up the stairs. "I was just kidding! Put me down, please! Let me walk."

"I don't
think
so,
Katherine
. I think I
want
to carry you up and into my
lair
." I grinned at her, enjoying the look of helplessness on her face.

She buried her face in my shoulder as I carried her up the rest of the way to my floor and through the doorway.

"Are you going to put me down?"

I smiled. "I don't know
what
I'm going to do with you, Ms. Bennet. I haven’t decided yet. One thing I
might
have to do, if memory serves me, is kiss you to keep you from talking."

I kissed her, a soft kiss, just lips on lips, my mind already imagining the rest of the night to come.

"I
must
be getting heavy…" she said, a slight hint of protest in her voice.

"You're light as a feather."

She relaxed in my arms and glanced around the apartment. "You have so many books. And all these guitars…I want to explore your apartment."

"I want to explore
you
."

Her eyes widened. "You do, do you? I think you already did after lunch…"

"Ms. Bennet, there's so much more of you to explore. So much more of your body. So much more of your mind."

I put her down finally and removed her coat. She took off her boots, leaving them on the mat by the front door.

"Take a look around. I'll get us a drink."

She put her bag down on the table and walked around while I went to my sideboard in the living room to get us a drink. I kept glasses inside and old bottles of liqueurs and scotch. Vodka I kept in the refrigerator. I watched Kate wander around, examining my things, sorting through the piles and piles of magazines including
Guitar
,
Rolling Stone
,
Bass Player
, and then scientific journals –
Annals of Internal Medicine, Lancet, JAMA
and others.

She peeked into the bedroom, probably wondering when she’d end up there. Soon, if I had my way, a delicious stab of desire running through me when I thought about her lying naked on my bed. When she returned to the living room, I had two shot glasses of Anisovaya ready for us.