She closed her eyes against Houston staring over her shoulder with eyes that saw all of her, inside and out.
“You are a good surgeon.” His hand stroked hers, even when she stiffened at his words.
“And it’s the emotion that I like about you. The way you care is really amazing. You have a way with people that I could never have, not on my best day.”
“That’s not true,” she whispered, eyes still screwed shut, dark spots dancing behind her eyelids. “You’re brilliant.”
“No more brilliant than you.” His hand was caressing across her stomach under the gown, intimately, caring. “I’m just older, more experienced, colder. The emotion thing scares me. That’s why I’m a surgeon.”
Josie felt the gown being brushed down her shoulders and dropped to the floor. She shook her head, but his hand kept moving and his voice was low in her ear, stroking her resistance away.
“That’s why I told you to leave my condo last week. You scare me.”
Lips touched the base of her neck and Josie shuddered, feeling too weak to pull away. He was offering comfort, and God, she needed it. “I wouldn’t scare a flea,” she said, catching her breath when he brushed her nipples.
“You have more power than you realize.” A laugh tickled her ear. “Maybe it’s a good thing you don’t realize how much.”
“Stop.” They were supposed to be friends, not cross this line again, but he didn’t even pause.
Those fingers she remembered so well from their one night together slipped between the waistband of her scrubs and her panties. She jerked back, knowing this was her last moment to halt his hand before it went any farther. But she collided with his erection pressing hot against her backside and she couldn’t remember anymore why she couldn’t do this, why she couldn’t take his reassurance and soak in it.
“Houston ... I don’t...” She trailed off when his thumb found her clit through her panties and rolled over with firm back-and-forth motions. Reason still urged her to pull away, step forward, get out of the locker room.
But her body didn’t agree, and her heart hurt too much to pretend that they were or could ever be friends.
“Shh. Put your arms around my neck. Then open your eyes, Josie.”
It felt good, so deep-down good, the way he was touching and prodding and coaxing her body into desire, into wetness and longing. Taking her from hurt and scared to distracting pleasure. Muscles in her shoulders and calves relaxing, others tensing in anticipated pleasure, tightening and clenching, leaning into him.
She lifted her arms, locked them around his neck, felt her chest heaving and her breasts tingling with need, pressing taut against her shirt. Her legs spread, her hips arched, and that sound, theyes, yes,gasp came rolling out of her mouth.
“Open your eyes. See how gorgeous you look. How smart and caring and beautiful.”
Josie didn’t want to, didn’t want to face herself and all her defects, just wanted to hover in the fuzzy darkness, feeling Houston rock her into pleasure. He slipped a finger inside her panties, teased around her curls, sank in briefly, sparking a flood of moisture, then pulled out.
She gave a groan of disappointment.
“Open your eyes or you can’t have it.” Then his tongue dipped into her ear, hot and wet, making her squirm with want, making her ache to feel him inside her.
With a shuddering breath, she dragged open her eyes. Saw her face flushed with pleasure, saw his dark look of concentration, saw his tongue retreat from her flesh, saw the bulge of his hand in her pants, the dark hairs on the back of his wrist rising from her scrubs. Then watched her own eyes go wide withshock when his finger sank deep inside her, in and out, with a lascivious little wiggle that sent forth another rush of heat from her body.
She felt vulnerable, raw, embarrassed by her body’s quick reaction to him, the obvious soaking wetness of her desire saturating his finger. But it paled to the other feelings Houston drew out of her. The comfort, the want, the freedom to let go, to indulge, and to distance herself from the OR. To revel in having saved her patient’s life, arid to appreciate all that she had.
To enjoy a stolen moment with Houston, where he wasn’t pushing her away from him.
Josie watched herself, arched against Houston, panting, biting her lip, straining forward, and damn, she was pleased with what she saw. She liked herself, her brains, her humor, her generosity, everything that made up who she was, including her less-than-perfect body.
And so did Houston.
He stroked her faster, on and on until she felt nothing but tight, hot pleasure ripping through her, urging her to abandon any reserve and just enjoy.
Then he whispered in her ear with a sort of miraculous awe, “You are so fucking sexy.”
It was all she needed to hear to send her pulsing and pressing and squeezing into his hand, an orgasm ripping through her with shuddering gasps.
She held on to him, fingers gripping his thick black hair.
He didn’t let go.