him so that his mouth could have its merry way with her.
With one languorous stroke of his tongue after another, he wound her up, tighter and tighter. Her hands were in his hair now, her only anchor in a spinning world as he dragged her into a pool of sheer sensation. “Stone—”
“Yeah, you’re going to be okay. Did you know you taste like heaven?” he murmured against her wet flesh, his talented, greedy mouth very busily driving her to the edge and holding her there with nothing more than his velvety hot tongue. In less than two minutes, she was gasping for breath, panting his name. “Stone, I’m going to—”
“Yes. I want you to.”
She couldn’t have stopped it to save her life. It started in her toes. They curled, and her body tightened like an arrow, and just as he sucked her into his mouth, she exploded. He held her through the most intense orgasm of her life, coaxing her down slowly. Gently.
When her muscles stopped shuddering and finally went still, he raised his head and looked at her with a fierce pleasure and intensity that nearly had her coming again.
He pulled a condom from his pocket and stripped off his shirt. As he unzipped and shucked, she blessed the light because he was so magnificently made, she could have stared at his body all day.
She took his condom and rolled it on him, prompting a few low, roughly moaned oaths from him and a shiver of anticipation from her. He wrapped her legs around his waist and stood up with her in his arms. Pressing her back against the closet wall, where she was cushioned by several hanging coats, he sank into her with one mind-blowing, soul-searing thrust that had them both gasping, swearing, dying.
She was in a closet, closed off from the world except for Stone, and it was the most sensual, erotic thing she’d ever done.
He began to move and it rocked her world. He rocked her world, and she set her head back against the wall, arching to meet him as he pushed into her again.
And again.
He was so deep inside her that she could feel his heart pounding in tune with hers, and still she couldn’t get enough. His mouth claimed hers, hard and deep, and she gave him everything she had, which was new and more than a little terrifying but in that moment she didn’t care. From day one he’d been there for her, always, strong and solid and on her side like no one else ever had. From day one, there’d been a bond, one that had only grown stronger, and she clutched at him, needing him, needing this. She was breathing crazily, and he was too, harsh and rough in her ear as his body moved within hers. “God, Stone.”
“I know.”
“You—I—” She broke off, closing her eyes to better absorb it all. “Again. I’m going to again.”
Apparently the words were all he’d needed. His mouth skimmed her jaw as he tightened his grip on her, pressing his face in the crook of her neck with a low, unintelligible groan as he stiffened, giving himself up to her. He took her with him, and she surrendered everything, every bit of her, heart and soul right there in the closet.
They stayed like that for long moments, him cradling her against him, her muscles still spasming around him, until finally he stirred, pressing a kiss to her jaw. “You okay?”
“Yes.” She let go of him, but his arms tightened on her as he lightly ran his mouth along her throat. “Mmm. You always smell good.”
That was nice, this was all incredibly nice, and it was almost too much for her. If she stayed like this with him, she’d start thinking, and thinking about this, about him, could only lead to hurt. Not wanting that, not wanting to do or say anything to that dark, deep look in his eyes, the one sending warning signals to her still out-to-lunch brain, she stirred.
“Don’t move,” he protested huskily. “Not yet.”
She had to. Had. To. “I have a hanger poking me in the back and my bare ass is against the wall. It’s time to move.”
“In a sec.” His mouth lazily skimmed over her shoulder, making his way toward a nipple that, unbelievably, hardened for him.
Even more unbelievably, her eyes rolled in the back of her head, and of its own accord, her body arched, giving him the access he needed. Even her face lifted, rising up for another kiss.
Good God. Someone send her a raft, she was going down…
Stone was melting in pleasure. Emma’s tongue was warm and sweet, and danced to his, and he was still buried deep inside her. He was loving all of it, until suddenly she put her hand on his chest and started to disentangle herself. He tried to hold onto her but she gave him the look, the one that said back off, and with a sigh, he let her go.
She immediately turned from him, which gave him a fantastic view of her world-class ass as she began looking for her clothing. “This,” she muttered, “is becoming ridiculous. I have got to start taking my clothes off in a more civilized nature.”
“Civilized?”
“Yes.” She shook out her wrinkled, wet blouse. “And hanging things up would be good too.”
“You think you should be able to stop and hang up each piece of clothing as it comes off.” He nodded even though he thought it was the stupidest idea he’d ever heard.
“It would be helpful.”
He laughed at her, at himself, then bent with her when she went for her pants. He put his hands on her arms and kissed her, kissed her long and deep and wet, and when he pulled back, they were both breathing hard again. It would have been pretty damn ego-boosting at how fast he could get her all worked up except she didn’t want to be worked up to begin with. “Tell me how the hell we’re supposed to do that,” he demanded softly, “and think rationally at the same time.”
She blinked, as if surprised at the question. “Well, I’ve never actually had this particular problem before. I’ve always been able to maintain some composure.”
He stared at her, then shook his head. “Who have you been sleeping with? Robots?”
Not the right thing to ask, given the way her eyes cooled. She turned away from him. “Not robots, no.”
He stared at her stiff, proud shoulders and sighed. She hadn’t given herself to anyone else in a long time, and when she had, it’d been Spencer, who while an excellent friend, apparently hadn’t inspired any wild passion. Before that, maybe another doctor, someone fancy and important, maybe someone on a schedule similar to hers. They’d probably booked their sex on their Blackberries, maybe even had their assistants book it, all “civilized.” “Emma.”
She didn’t look at him as she pulled on the dry sweats and hung up her wet things, so he put on his wet clothes with a wince. There was nothing worse than putting on wet clothes after very satisfying sex, except for maybe putting on wet clothes after not having very satisfying sex. “Emma.”
Nothing.
He turned her to face him. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes unhappy, and his stomach clenched as he tried to pull her in.
“Okay, whoa.” She pointed at him. “No more of that.”
“The hugging?”
“The looking at me like I mean something to you. The soft, sexy voice that makes it so I can’t think. The touching. The kissing. The…rest. Most definitely the rest.” She exited the closet, heading to the reception area, where she pulled open the door for him, setting off the ceramic cowbells.
It’d stopped raining, but water still dripped off the eaves. He walked to where she stood in the doorway, purposely crowding her. “Can’t help the looking at you like you mean something, because you do.”
“Stop.”
“Because…?”
“Because it’s a mistake. And because I don’t like to make mistakes. Look,” she said on a sigh, searching for words. “Starting something with you wouldn’t be right. I’ve already got one foot out the door. I’m only here for my father. That’s it.”
“Sure about that?”
“What does that mean?”
“Well, seems to me that you could have told him no. You could have hired another doctor to run the place. But you didn’t. You came. I think you did because you wanted to connect.”
&n
bsp; “I connect plenty. I’m connected to work. I’m connected to Spencer. I was connected with my mom.”
“Your mom is gone,” he said very gently, taking her hand when she whirled away. “Spencer is a man who by your own admissions is someone who doesn’t stick. And—”
“I’ve heard enough.”
“And,” he went on anyway, “work doesn’t count. So the question stands, Emma. How exactly are you connected right now?”
“You think you have me all figured out.” She yanked free. “But you don’t. You don’t know me.”
“I’m starting to know you plenty. I know, for instance, that you swim like a fish, that you’re insanely competitive, a crappy driver, and that you’re amused by people afraid of needles.”
She met his gaze. “That’s all superficial stuff.”
“I’d know more, but you’re pretty careful of yourself.”
“Yeah.” She let out a low breath and looked away. “I guess it’s hard to be insulted by the truth.”
“Look, I know you like challenges,” he said very quietly, stepping close again because he liked being close, lifting her face because he liked to see her eyes. “So here’s a big one for you.”
“I’m not making another bet. I keep losing.”
“You’ll win this one. Let me know you. Let me in.”
“Stone.”
“Try connecting, Emma, with me. Come on, what could it hurt? Unless, of course, you’re afraid.”
Her gaze hit his, inadvertently revealing to him the truth, that she wasn’t afraid of much, but she most definitely was of this.
Them.
“Is that it?” he pressed. “Did I find something the tough, badass New York doc fears?”
“Oh, you want to mock my fears now?” she asked, clearly trying to throw him off the track with her ironic tone. “Really?”
Willing to laugh at himself, he grinned. “Okay, but at least I know mine.”
She made a soft disparaging sound. “This is ridiculous.”
“Uh huh. Because you’re afraid.”
“Say that one more time, say it to my face and see what happens.”
“You’re afraid,” he taunted softly.
“You are impossible.”
“See? You’re getting to know me already.” He smiled when she laughed. “Come on, Emma. Give me a try.”
Staring up at him, she shook her head.
“You might like it. You might like me.”
“Awfully sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Sometimes.” He was also smart enough to know when to back off and let a woman think. With a steady purpose, he leaned in and kissed her once, slowly, with just a hint of heat, and walked away.
He hoped like hell the gamble paid off.
Chapter 19
Emma was still in an odd and conflicting state of arousal and confusion that night when Spencer got back, dropped off by TJ, not Stone, which she knew because she found herself pressing her face to the upstairs living room window to peek.
Give me a try, he’d said. Connect, with me.
And she’d scoffed. She didn’t need to give him a try, she didn’t need to give anyone a try. And connecting? Please. She was only here for a very limited time, and then she was going home, where things were great and nothing was missing from her life.
Nothing.
Except someone to connect with.
Damn him for pointing that out. Damn him for being right.
“Hi honey, I’m home!” Spencer came in the door and tossed down his backpack, opening his arms in great exaggeration for a welcome hug and kiss.
She lifted a brow. “I see a bear didn’t get you.”
“Nope. Miss me?” He was smiling, but it slowly faded, to be replaced by a questioning curiosity. “What’s that look on your face?”
“I don’t know. Nothing.”
“You have a mix of…I’m not sure if it’s a glow, or a temper.”
She covered her cheeks with her hands, knowing it was the damn closet. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“TJ told me about the truck and the ditch. You okay?”
“Completely fine.”
“So what’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.”
“Emma, it’s me. The master of deception when it comes to feelings, remember?”
“Well then, I certainly wouldn’t want to burden you with mine.”
“Nice try.” He pulled off his sweatshirt and tossed it aside. “Look, we could do the whole dance around it thing, but I’m hungry and tired, and don’t have the patience.”
She laughed. “Honestly, it’s touching how into me you are.”
“I’ll drive all the way to South Shore and buy you that Thai if you tell me.”
She’d have done a whole hell of a lot more for Thai, so she caved like a cheap suitcase. “It’s Stone.”
“Ah. You still crushing on the big, bad boy of the mountain?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know. How’s that for a straight answer?”
He tugged affectionately on a strand of her hair. “We’ve always been close.”
“No. Actually, we’ve remained such good friends because we aren’t too close, right?”
He lifted a shoulder in acknowledgment of that. “Fine. But one thing we have always been with each other, is honest. Brutally so.”
“True.”
“So.” He offered her a half smile. “Be honest now. You slept with him. You slept with him and instead of being done as you usually are, you want more.”
She stared at him, stunned at that quick and horrifyingly accurate assessment. “Yes.”
“Well that sucks.” He let out a breath and turned away so she couldn’t see his eyes. “I’m hungry. I don’t suppose you cooked?” He sighed again at the empty kitchen. “Yeah. Didn’t think so.”
“Spence—”
“It’s okay, Emma. I’m a big boy and I asked.” At the unexpected knock on the door, he moved toward it. “Hey, maybe it’s a miraculous Thai food delivery from heaven.”
Instead, it was Serena, wrapped in a wind breaker and a black mini skirt. “I’m looking for the doc,” she said to Spence. “Is she here?”
Emma moved into view. “Right here, Serena. Is there something wrong?”
“Well, I guess you could say it’s that I wasn’t the dweeb and didn’t waste the best years of my life in medical school like you did.”
Spencer leaned against the doorjamb, amused. “So you’re a close friend of Emma’s then.”
Serena sighed, closing her eyes. “Dammit. Was that snippy, because I was actually going for nice. I’m not very good at it.” She opened her eyes, which were just a little glazed over. “I’ll stick with my bitchy self. I need a doc, Sexy Man. So move out of my way.”
Spencer didn’t. “I’m a doctor, too.”
“Wow, God really gave with both hands when it came to you, didn’t he.” She narrowed her eyes as she took him in. “Quick, what are your faults?”
“I leave the toilet seat up and don’t bother with the cap on the toothpaste.”
“Sharp wits, too. Very nice. How are you with the bedside manner?”
He grinned. “Better than Emma.”
From behind him, Emma rolled her eyes, but Serena laughed. “And confident. Okay, I pick you.”
Spencer looked intrigued. “For…?”