The ER's Newest Dad. Janice Lynn
you think the answer isn’t any of my business. Maybe you’re right that it’s not. But what you do feels as if it’s my business.” He sighed and it sounded so weary that she opened her eyes, her gaze instantly colliding with his intense blue one.
“I want what you do to be my business, Brielle.”
His admission surprised her.
“Tell me how to make that happen.”
Oh, how sweetly seductive his words were to her heart and yet… “Because you’re here, I’m here, and you have three months to kill?”
“I’m here because of you,” he owned up, his gaze not wavering from hers. “You have to know you’re why I’m here. The only reason I’m here.”
She knew that. On some level she had known. Yet her heart did a jiggly dance in her chest all the same.
“I sought you out, took this job just to be near you, and my sole purpose for being in Bean’s Creek is you.”
Thud. Thud. Thud. Her heart pounded against her ribs. “Why?”
“You know why.”
He was wrong. She didn’t know.
“Sex?” she guessed. Their chemistry seemed to zap as strongly as ever, promising just as volcanic a ride. They’d had a great sex life. A great life period, but physically they’d have won Olympic gold once upon a time. If she were honest with herself, she’d admit that she couldn’t be near him without wanting to rip his clothes off, without wanting to touch him and re-familiarize herself with every aspect of his body.
“If all I wanted was sex, I wouldn’t have had to leave Boston.”
That she didn’t doubt. Of course a gorgeous successful doctor with his looks, charm, and sex appeal would have women falling at his feet. No doubt he’d had many women during the time they’d been apart. Her heart clenched into a tight, painful ball.
“I want you.”
“You want sex with me?”
“Not just sex.” He paused, looked torn. “At least, I don’t think so.” He ran his fingers through his hair then squatted down next to the sofa, met her gaze with his usual confidence. “I want you, Brielle. I want you to look at me the way you used to look at me. I want you to beg me to make love to you over and over until we both collapse in exhaustion and then I want you to tell me you want me again.”
Barely breathing, she shook her head. “Impossible. You can’t have that. Those feelings are gone.”
Yet even as she said the words the urge to beg him to do all those things drummed louder and louder through her head. Lord help her, she wanted that sweet exhaustion he spoke of, that sweet exhaustion she knew he had the power to deliver.
“Are they?” He traced his finger over her lips as if to pound home his question. “I think the attraction is as strong as ever between us.”
That she couldn’t deny. Just his lightest touch had her entire body tingling as if every cell had suddenly woken up after a long hibernation.
“That’s just physical.” Please, let it just be physical. “I’m a grown woman now and know better than acting on just physical.”
Hadn’t she learned that lesson? He’d been a good teacher. So why did recalling all the other things he’d taught her seem so much easier at the moment?
“There was a lot more than just physical between us.”
“Was there?” she asked perversely. “I remember things differently.”
His gaze settled on her mouth. His finger toyed with her lower lip, barely grazing the inner moisture of her mouth. “Tell me what you remember, Brielle. Tell me you remember how your body came alive when I kissed you, how you responded to my slightest touch.” He lifted his finger to his mouth, supped off the taste of her lips. “Tell me you want me to kiss you right now because I see how your pulse is racing, how your breathing is ragged, and how your eyes are eating me up.”
“I don’t want you to kiss me.” She closed her eyes and held her breath, but she couldn’t do a thing about her crazy racing pulse. “Even if I did, all you’ve done is proved my point. Physical. Physical. Physical. Nothing more.”
Ross laughed. A sweet, relaxed, real laugh that sounded so familiar to her aching heart that everything in her went a little haywire.
Or maybe it was the light sweep of his mouth over hers that caused everything to go haywire.
“You taste of heaven, Brielle,” he whispered against her lips. “Sweet, sweet heaven.”
If she tasted of heaven, then he tasted of hell.
His lips were full, sure, full of temptation, hot.
Every cell in her body buzzed alive as if a direct connection had been made to where his lips met hers and he’d taken control of her nerve endings and demanded they deliver ultimate pleasure.
When he pushed his tongue into her mouth, for the briefest moment she considered biting him. But what purpose would that serve? If she wanted him to stop, she’d have stopped him. Instead, she’d parted her lips, let him have his blasted way.
He was right. She wanted this kiss. Had wanted his kiss from the first moment she’d spotted him in the emergency room on his first day at Bean’s Creek.
Who was she kidding?
She’d never stopped wanting him. Not from their very first kiss years ago.
It’s only curiosity, she assured herself as she opened her mouth to his exploration. She just wanted to know if his kisses still set her on fire, if he still pushed her body beyond pleasure and into ecstasy.
The sensual movement of his mouth over hers assured that he did. And more.
His hands threaded into her hair. His fingers caressed her scalp, holding her to him. His touch was gentle, not forcing the embrace, allowing her the freedom to stop him if she desired. He was probably gloating that she wasn’t, that she was so weak that the first time they were alone she was flat on her back, making love to him with her mouth.
Then again, one could argue that it was his mouth loving hers.
That it was his hands moving over her shoulders, down her arms, caressing her as if she were the most prized treasure.
His body that had leaned to hover just above hers.
Kissing her, he stared directly into her eyes. When his mouth lifted from hers, his breath came hard and fast against her lips. “I missed you, Brielle. So much.”
She didn’t answer, because what could she say? He’d been the one to leave, the one to be in the arms of another woman when she’d gone after him mere months later.
Memories of the last time she’d seen him, of his lips on the other woman’s, of how quickly he’d moved on, gave her the strength to push against his chest.
“Stop,” she ordered, wriggling to sit up on his sofa. “That wasn’t appropriate.”
He wiped his finger across his lips. Whether he was savoring their kiss or wiping it away, she wasn’t sure. “You were as curious as I was. Admit it.”
Curious? He had no idea.
“No.”
“Not admitting to the attraction between us doesn’t make it any less real,” he pointed out, with way too much logic when her head was spinning.
“Doesn’t matter.” Why could she still feel his kiss? Taste him? She didn’t want to remember. Didn’t want to have new memories of him. “None of this matters. There are others involved.”
His brows formed a V. “I’m not seeing anyone.”
Wondering if she’d said too much, she