tugged a folded sheaf of papers from his pocket and held them out to her. She took them with a shaking hand and peered down to read.
“A contract?”
He nodded. “To negotiate a new agreement. Make changes, add, delete. Whatever you want to do, do it. I’ll sign. Because I trust that you know yourself and care about me enough to make it fair and good for both of us, if you’ll have me.”
“This says you’re going to learn Greek. And Spanish? Oh, and the end date portion is blank,” she murmured, the words barely making it past her achy throat as she clenched the paper tightly.
“That’s right.” His gaze was nailed to hers and she could feel the tension rolling off him. “Because I don’t ever want to let you go. I want to retire with you and travel the world and speak bad French with you. Tell me you’re in, Court. I dare you.”
She considered letting him sweat a little, but couldn’t bear to be away from him for another second. She closed the distance between them, dropping low in front of him. “We could take it slow like you said, I guess…” She let a hand drift down his chest to his abdomen. “Or we could act like we just met and then take it fast.”
His eyes blazed as he caught her meaning and the warmth that had been blossoming in her chest went white hot.
“I won’t blow it this time. I swear,” he murmured, leaning in to press his lips to hers, tugging her to her feet along with him until they were standing, plastered against each other. She let herself get swept away in the moment, in the man, until a knock at the door sounded.
“Can I come in yet? I’m sorry but I really gotta go.”
They broke apart laughing and she grabbed his hand, dragging him toward the exit. “We’ve got to get out there and watch our friend ride a bull,” she said, smiling so hard it hurt her cheeks. “And then…”
“And then,” he said, yanking her to a stop so he could nip her ear, “we’ll see about setting up a ride of our own.”
Epilogue
Courtney glanced down at her cell for the third time in an hour. Nine forty-five. His note had specifically said nine thirty and not to be late. She blew out a sigh and snagged a breadstick from the basket on the table. When her phone vibrated a second later, she grabbed it from the crisp peach linen cloth and peered down at the screen to see a text message.
Good girl. Five points for punctuality and another ten for that sexy as fuck dress. Now put the breadstick down and slide your hand under the table and between your legs for me, love.
She glanced around wildly, searching the surrounding tables for Rafe. It was a Saturday night, and the place was jammed. Chatter filled the room, and a musical duo played some classic R&B hits in the corner. She scanned the area twice but saw no sign of her man.
Her phone buzzed again.
Stop stalling and do what I told you, or prepare to face the consequences.
She frowned, still wondering where he was hiding, but in spite of her confusion, her body was already warming to his demands.
With a surreptitious glance around to make sure no one was looking her way, she set down her breadstick, brushed the crumbs off on her napkin, and slipped her hand under the tablecloth to settle between her thighs. She’d worn a short dress at his request, and was thankful for it now as she didn’t have to wriggle or move to make room. With a subtle shift of her hips, she spread her legs wide enough to accommodate her fingers and laid them over her quickly heating flesh.
Rub that clit for me now.
Her nipples went tight beneath the lacy bodice of her tank dress and she let out a low hiss. After six months together she should be used to it. The out-of-control, wild lust he inspired. The inventive, “close to the edge but never over it” scenarios he came up with. The man was lethal, and every day was an adventure. She’d never been happier.
For every ten seconds you make me wait, add another lash to your next flogging.
Worst. Warning. Ever. Already, she was wriggling her ass against the seat in anticipation. Still, his texts were making her hotter by the second and suddenly not only did she want to please him, she also wanted to ease the pressure building between her legs at a breakneck speed.
Keeping a watchful eye, thankful he’d booked a table in the corner, she gave in to the need, rubbing the tight bundle of nerves in slow circles. Pinching her bottom lip between her teeth, she held back a groan at the contact.
Could he see her still? Did he know she’d started? A shiver ran through her, and she increased the pressure, letting out an involuntary gasp as her fingertips grew slick.
Beautiful. The waiter is bringing over a glass of merlot for you. I want you to keep touching yourself when he does. Don’t stop. I’ll know if you do, and you’ll be punished. Once you’ve ordered your food and he leaves, drink your wine. All of it, fast. Nod if you understand.
She wet her lips and nodded, still scanning the room for some sign of him. Right then, her waiter rounded the corner, and she froze. How was she going to pull this off?
“Your wine, miss. From the gentleman at the bar.” He set the goblet filled with ruby liquid on the table and tugged a white notepad from his apron with a flourish. “Are you ready to order?”
She couldn’t help but lean forward to peer into the bar, and sure enough, there he was. Rafe, dressed in a pair of her favorite jeans that clung to all his best parts. His gaze locked with hers and the blatant need in his eyes gave her an extra dose of courage.
She cleared her throat and offered a smile at the server, all the while making figure eights over the aching flesh between her thighs. He read the specials as her legs quaked, her heart pounded, her pulse skittered. She felt the heat of Rafe’s stare the whole time and she played to him, making sure to meet his eyes every few seconds for a moment.
“What do you recommend?” she managed, after he’d completed his spiel.
“The rack of lamb is delicious,” he said with a smile.
Her phone buzzed and she glanced down quickly.
Two fingers. Slide them deep.
She deleted the text with one hand and followed Rafe’s instructions with the other, tucking her index and middle fingers into her now pulsing channel.
“The lamb’s fine,” she managed, albeit in a choked voice. He asked a question about salad which she must have answered to his satisfaction because a second later, he was gone and she was two minutes from coming.
Drink.
A fine sheen of sweat beaded on her upper lip and suddenly drinking seemed like a great idea. If he made her get through this whole meal and the ride home without coming, she was going to kill him.
She gulped the wine down until the glass was empty and then wiped her mouth delicately with her napkin as she worked herself closer and closer to the edge. Her phone vibrated again and she snatched it up.
Stop what you’re doing and head toward the restroom, but continue past it to the green door. When you get there, open it and walk through.
She looked up to find his former stool empty, and her pulse careened wildly. After straightening her dress, she stood, picked up her purse, and crossed the room. The wine had gone straight to her head, and the slightly tipsy feeling only amplified her excitement.
When she reached the green door, she took a quick look around and swung it open, adrenaline coursing through her as she waited for an alarm to sound or for someone to come running out and reprimand her.
No one came and no alarm sounded.
She stepped into the cold, dark alleyway, her body aflame with anticipation in spite of the temperature. When two big, rough hands closed over her bare shoulders and shoved her against the wall, she should’ve been terrified. Instead, she was elated.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” he growled against her ear. The warm, earthy scent of his familiar cologne made her senses sing almost as much as the feeling of him grinding against her, putting the pressure right where she needed it.
He swooped down, slanting his lips over hers, and she whimpered into his mouth, already
at point break. Hooking one stiletto-capped leg around his hip, she lined up her overheated core with his bulging erection, tearing her mouth away when he flexed hard in a sinuous rub.
“God, Rafe, please don’t make me wait.”
His voice was stark with want. “Ten minutes, remember Court?” he ground out, yanking at his jeans until his cock sprang free. “I wanted ten minutes in an alley with you and made a promise that kept me awake some nights. Tonight I’m going to make good. You’ll be back inside in time to enjoy your lamb.”
Joy bubbled like champagne inside her. He remembered how they’d begun, took the time to create a scene from their history. Because he loved her. She started to laugh, but her laughter was cut short as the broad, swollen head of his cock butted against her heat.
“That’s my girl,” he whispered softly, his breath a cloud of white in the icy night air. He pinned her more fully against the unyielding brick and swung her other leg up until she was able to lock her ankles around his waist. The move coupled with a swivel of his hips sent him deep and her vision went hazy.
“Y-you feel so good.” And he did. It was sublime, how well they fit. How his body—like Rafe himself—pushed her to the limits, knowing right when to stop. Just don’t stop now, she wanted to scream as he shifted. He cupped her ass in both hands, using the leverage to work her over his cock in long, hard strokes.
She flexed her thighs around him tighter and struggled to keep the wave from sucking her under before it was time. “I’m going to come already. Tell me I can, babe, please.” She didn’t care that she was begging, so long as it worked. There were nights that he made her hold out for longer than she ever thought she could, but if tonight was one of them, she would surely die.
“Fuck yeah,” he bit out through clenched teeth.
His movements became frantic. The scrape of the gritty, cold brick abrading her ass, the slide of his swollen cock filling her to bursting, the knowing grip of the man she loved, it was all too much, and she hurtled toward release.
He kissed her then, a mash of lips and teeth and tongue, and she cried out into his mouth as she splintered into a million pieces. He followed a second later, and they shuddered together, their shared breath coming in gasps.
“That…” He swallowed hard and let out a short laugh, before pressing a kiss to her nose. “That was something right there, Nurse DeLollis.”
She chuckled and let her legs go limp. “You got that right, Detective Davenport.”
He set her down and glanced down at his watch. “With four minutes to spare.” He held up a hand for a high five and she obliged him. He gripped her wrist at the last second and held her gaze, the smile sliding from his face. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, do you know that, Court?”
She nodded, but her cheeks burned with delight anyway. “I’m glad you think so because I love you like crazy.”
“That’s real good. Perfect, in fact.” He cupped her chin in his hand and the grin was back as if by magic. “Now go eat your lamb and make it snappy. It just occurred to me that I live with a nurse, and we’ve never played doctor.”
She straightened her clothes and headed back into the restaurant, a secret smile tugging at her lips. He might not realize it, but he’d played doctor a long time ago, when he’d managed to heal her broken heart.
“Yes, sir,” she said with a curt nod. “Now if we can only find a nurse’s uniform that will fit you.”
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