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.
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.
He wanted her. More than he could remember wanting another woman, ever. He loved making her burn, making her respond, making her need, when it seemed nothing and no one else could do that.
She suddenly sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of the desk and reaching behind her to re-hook her bra. Then she shrugged into her shirt and combed her fingers through her hair—that wasn’t just loose now but was completely disheveled. And incredibly sexy.
“And now you’ve built this clinic up to the point of having patients scheduled this afternoon so you have to go back to work.” She pulled her shirt together and pushed him back so she could slide off the desk. “Too bad about that, because I think I’m going to head to my house. For a shower.”
She was teasing him. He couldn’t believe it. He wouldn’t have believed Brooke Donovan would tease—especially sexually. But he loved it. Because he loved how self-assured she seemed, and he loved that smile. Maybe part of him felt like he shouldn’t be kissing her—or more. But maybe this was something even more he could give her, something she needed. Not just an orgasm or the feeling of being wanted, but the ability to let go, take what she wanted, not worry about consequences. That had been the word she’d used before—consequences. He didn’t know what that meant exactly but maybe she was talking about sex, letting go, getting wild. She’d been without her husband for months now, she was stuck in a town where she obviously had some issues. That might be what this whole thing was about for her—she needed to feel comfortable and confident about something, with someone. If this was the solution, he’d happily help her as often as she wanted him.
He caught her arm as she tried to slip past him and brought her up on tiptoe so he could kiss her again. Then he said, “Anytime you feel the need to express how you really feel, you just let me know. I’ll be there for you.”
She took a shaky breath as he let her go, but said nothing as she started buttoning up. She left first. It took Jack a few extra minutes to be able to leave her office without embarrassing himself.
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